foreigners in China | Speaking of China

Ask the Yangxifu: Does Dating Past (And More) Matter to Chinese Men?

Anonymous asks:

im from europe, i really like a chinese man, and he seems to like me, but i dont know if he will if he gets to know me better. we met in china at work, get along well, both in mid-twenties. but i am not a virgin. ive had many boyfriends before too.

im afraid if he gets to know me, he will think badly of me. ive heard chinese men cant accept a girl who isnt virgin. i really need advice — please help! and please dont use my name/email! Continue reading “Ask the Yangxifu: Does Dating Past (And More) Matter to Chinese Men?”

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Chapter 15: Climbing Back Into Love With John

John brought me to Tonglu, his hometown in the Chinese countryside, to climb Daqi Mountain. If only I knew I’d have to do more than just climb the mountain — I’d have to climb out of the mess I created this morning.

John didn’t see the best of me on that bus, complaining about the indirect, circuitous route, the precipitous driving, the secondhand smoke, the unpredictable pickups and drop-offs. It was only a couple of hours — why did I say anything at all? After my display of intolerance and impatience with China, did John wonder if the girl he fell in love with — the girl who opened herself to China, who wanted to understand — was still there?

As we sat down at one of Tonglu’s restaurants, dining on a feast of vegetarian delicacies for lunch, I laid myself out — with all of my flaws — like the dishes before us. “I’m so sorry about this morning. I don’t know what I was thinking. I may have been here in China for two years, but I don’t understand everything. I should have been more understanding.” I exposed myself for what I behaved like: a foreigner who only saw the shadows of China. But all I seemed to eat during lunch was shame, and the deep, persistent feeling that I was pushing John away. Continue reading “Chapter 15: Climbing Back Into Love With John”

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Chapter 14: The China Road of Misunderstanding

I really want to be on the new highway leading to Tonglu, John’s hometown in theÂ Chinese countryside. The smooth concrete is perfect, unblemished by potholes or cracks. Each side of the highway has a new guardrail, with newly transplanted trees beside it, propped up by four wooden supports and rope tied around the trunk. And on the highway, a bus cannot stop to pick up new passengers — it must go nonstop to its destination, so the passengers know when it will arrive. It is China’s future, right next to me.

I, however, am currently in the present on this Sunday in early September, 2002

The present is a rickety minibus on road etched with cracks and potholes — as the minibus hits them, the feeling becomes amplified through the floor and seats like a cacophonous sound in an auditorium. Everything on the bus, from the exterior to the furniture, is stained by a brown veneer, like the patina of a dirty teacup.

The bus rambles along this road next to the highway — stopping every now and then to pick up a passenger, or drop someone off — and with each passing moment, my patience rambles along towards anger. Continue reading “Chapter 14: The China Road of Misunderstanding”

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Chapter 13: Different Eggplant, Different Cultural Expectations

John and I had barely been together for a month, and here we were, arguing about food.

I had offered to cook John, my Chinese boyfriend, dinner, and decided to make my famous “Italian-style eggplant,” an East-West fusion of the standard fish-fragrant eggplant recipe, with tomatoes added to give it that Italian feel. I’d made this dish hundreds of times, for many other Chinese friends. Everyone loved the recipe. Everyone, that is, except for John.

He’s going to love it, I thought, as I sat across from him, watching him choose a few morsels of eggplant with his chopsticks, and eating them with a small helping of rice. I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say — until he said it. Continue reading “Chapter 13: Different Eggplant, Different Cultural Expectations”

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Chapter 12: What is Buried Beneath Our Hearts, and Lakes, in China

Chinese poets once praised the Xin’an River in Zhejiang Province as a mirror, so clean and clear you could see the bottom. But the Xin’an River is no more. It was dammed in 1958 to create 1,000 Island Lake, where John takes me in August 2002 to visit the country of his ancestors.

His ancestors, and all of the beauty that inspired the poets, are buried beneath 1,000 Island Lake. But we are interested in one ancestor in particular — John’s grandfather, who died in 1948, the same year John’s father was born. This grandfather never saw Communist China or 1,000 Island Lake, only knowing the clarity, the lucidity that was Xin’an River. Maybe he is lucky for that.

“I once tried to find my grandfather’s grave,” John confessed. “I rowed all around this one area, the area where he supposedly was buried. But I never found it.” Today, we hope to find his grandfather’s grave, because John, like many Chinese, still believes in ancestor worship, in the importance of the connection to his past. We only hope it isn’t lost for good.

But we are lost on the lake. Continue reading “Chapter 12: What is Buried Beneath Our Hearts, and Lakes, in China”

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Ask the Yangxifu: How to impress your Chinese boyfriend’s (or girlfriend’s) family during Chinese New Year

Kelley asks:

I started teaching English in China this past fall, and met a wonderful Chinese man. I never expected to have a Chinese boyfriend, or expected it so soon! But we’ve been dating since October, and are very much in love.

However, I am really starting to freak out because he asked me to spend Chinese New Year at his parents home. I am so concerned about meeting his parents. I know family is a really big deal in China, and it seems that if they don’t like me, my boyfriend and I don’t have a future. I really need to impress them! I’ve only started learning Mandarin, so I’m barely proficient, but I guess a little is better than none at all.

I’m definitely going to bring gifts (thanks so much for the great suggestions!).

But I was wondering what other advice you might have — specifically, what should I do to make the visit go smoothly? I really could use some help! Thanks!
—– Continue reading “Ask the Yangxifu: How to impress your Chinese boyfriend’s (or girlfriend’s) family during Chinese New Year”

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Chapter 11: Exes in China Make Bad Friends

“Do you realize how you hurt Frank?” Xiao Yu, one of my coworkers and friends from the Internet company, confronted me one afternoon, nearly a week after my birthday party. He didn’t even have to point a finger at me — I could feel the judgment in his large, almond eyes, framed by a mane of short hair parted severely down the middle. “You flaunted your relationship in front of Frank, who sat right next to you. You even let him photograph you and John together.”

As I listened to Xiao Yu chastize me, I realized one thing: I’d never thought about Frank that evening. Continue reading “Chapter 11: Exes in China Make Bad Friends”

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Chapter 10: Did I Ask John to Move In?

There it was, a tiny blue duffel bag on the floor of the guest room. I found it Tuesday evening, after returning home from work.

It was John’s suitcase, of course. In a way, it was natural he would bring his things here. We hadn’t spent a day apart since that Friday, my birthday, when we first kissed. My apartment — with two bedrooms, a full bathroom and kitchen, dining room, TV and A/C — was far nicer than the cramped, sparse room in the peasant house that John shared with his friend. And, I had given John the keys — wasn’t that an open invitation?

Still, I couldn’t help wondering how he came to the conclusion — moving in — when we’d never really agreed on it.Â Continue reading “Chapter 10: Did I Ask John to Move In?”

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Chapter 9: Of Birthday Stares and Undeniable Love for John

“Everyone in this entire teahouse is staring at you,” giggled my Chinese tutor Mandy, as she clutched my arm on the way to the restroom.

We were at the Good Moon, a teahouse near Hangzhou University, celebrating my birthday with friends. As I scanned the people we passed in the teahouse, I saw Mandy was right. And, later, my friend Joshua would say the same. “You commanded the casual glances of almost everyone in the teahouse.”

I wore a tailored burgundy qipao, glittering with golden plum blossoms, my hair folded upon my head like a wreath of curls, and my face perfectly made up with the help of Swallow, one of the translators in our company.

But it wasn’t just my hair or clothes or makeup. There was something else about me — a certain intangible radiance. The radiance of someone in love.

If the casual onlookers could read love in my face, then what would Frank think when he saw me? Continue reading “Chapter 9: Of Birthday Stares and Undeniable Love for John”

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Chapter 8: John is My Chinese Boyfriend

The West Lake, framed by a glittering night sky and the willow tendrils hanging over our bench, could probably turn any young couple into lovers on such an evening. Especially this Western woman and Chinese man sitting beside its taciturn waters, watching the bats dip and sway to catch mosquitoes to the tune of the humming cicadas in the trees and bushes.

The shroud of night is like a blanket around us, giving us warmth and protection to take the next step, as we sit on a bench along the Su Causeway. We still live in a China where our presence together — as lovers — is a spectacle. But in the forgiving crepuscular light, no one can see that I am a Western woman and he is a Chinese man. For once, we are just another young couple, inexorably inching towards love.

But that does not pacify my mind or heart. I’m not sure anything could on this night, a night that has built up with fervor from the first friendly flirtations John and I had during our trip to Yiwu. A night that has turned me, a young woman who has loved before, into a high school girl on her first date all over again, dressed in a long black flowery skirt and lavender shirt, with a row of tiny clips across my head like a tiara. Continue reading “Chapter 8: John is My Chinese Boyfriend”

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