Modern Chinese Courtship. Is it really that modern?

Now that I have lived in China for two years, I have had the opportunity to witness how the practice of dating and the relationship dynamic between the two sexes works. Still, I feel I need to make a preemptive disclaimer to this blog posting so that no one gets the wrong idea. My reflection on modern Chinese courtship is by no means meant to be a criticism of how things are done nor is it reflective of how it works in all relationships in this country of 1.3 billion people. I live in an affluent, modern city in China and the people I have the most contact with are students as well as well-to-do Chinese- many of whom have traveled outside the country and been exposed to ideas and lifestyles of different cultures. I am taking a critical look at how I understand courtship to work in China (albeit from a limited perspective) and am sharing my honest curiosity with how it is different from the expectations and experiences of my own cultural background in this very day and age. In learning about how dating practices and courtship roll here, I have found myself sometimes perplexed as well as offended (and I am not proud of this). But I am making an effort to understand and be sensitive to how and why the practice must work a certain way in China. As an outsider who is also not in a relationship with a Chinese person, I have the luxury to be curious about it and know that this will not affect me personally. Still, I think there are things I can learn about the traditional expectations in Chinese courtship.

Part of the plan

Starting from a young age, many Chinese boys and girls seem to have their lives mapped out for them so that intended milestones will be reached at the right times in their near as well as distant future. The focus of the first 18 years of a young person’s life is education, education and education! From a young age, Chinese boys and girls attend private tutoring and classes in the evenings and weekends to get ahead in math, Chinese and English. Activities common in many American teenagers’ lives such as socializing and dating, part-time work, participation in sports, volunteering in the local community, or just loafing around on the couch in the afternoon with a bag of Doritos while watching Scooby Doo are discouraged and most likely shelved unless they contribute to a child’s chance of getting into university (which they don’t if the child attends university in China since the college entrance exam is the only determinant for admission into Chinese universities). The push to learn all the time will hopefully ensure that son or daughter will perform well enough on the college entrance examination at the end of high school to gain a coveted spot at a university which will then ensure employment in better paid jobs post university and will therefore also provide mom and dad and son or daughter with future financial security.

Female students on one side of the room
and the male students on the other.

A secondary result of Chinese teenagers neither having time nor being allowed to date while in high school results in what I call the “late bloomer syndrome” among Chinese university students. Whenever I have new first year students in my classes, it’s not uncommon to see the female students sit on one side of the room and the male students sit together on another side of the room. When I encourage students to branch out and work with new students, some even being of the opposite sex, there is a lot of juvenile giggling and reluctance that reminds me of the attitude of 10 and 11 year olds in the US.  

And they lived happily ever after..(Picture courtesy ChinaSmack)

Many of my female students seem to have a naïve, happily ever after, Hollywood notion of romance and dating where boy meets girl, boy and girl like each other, boy and girl kiss and say they love each another, and then boy and girl live happily ever after. Ideally, boy is also gao fu shuai or tall, rich and handsome.

I’m still stumped with what the male students want and envision. Some seem to feign disinterest and have an air of “I’m too cool for you” (but that may just be how they are to me, their teacher). Others seem willing to meet a nice girl and fulfill her fairytale boy-meets girl fantasy.

Some of my first year students do end up pairing up with one another. I have known some of my female students to confide in me that they hide their secret of having a boyfriend from their parents. The result of mom and dad finding out is either that they will not be pleased and demand an immediate break-up or they may expect things to quickly get serious between daughter and her boyfriend. Considering it’s the first time dating for some of these young adults, why shouldn’t they be able to enjoy it and savor it or even wallow in pity if there is eventual heartbreak, without the meddling and interference of mom and dad or others?

There can be complications for young people trying to date in a rather traditional society. Like in many countries, if you are a college student, you will share a rather cramped dorm room with two or three other students and the dorm will only have room for two or three bunk beds, desks and clothes, not to mention that the dorm entrances are strictly guarded by matronly aunties who will not permit the opposite sex to enter even to work on an assignment. Young couples who want to get some alone time (if you get my drift) will have to get a little creative. This has led, for example, to the unfortunate event of a young couple at my university getting caught on film in an indecent and uncompromising situation (the video briefly went viral on Youku, the Chinese version of Youtube). It is also not uncommon for me to see students smooching in the dark corners of the courtyard in front of my apartment building when it is dark at night. Near the university campuses, it is also common to see little old ladies conspicuously holding up small signs advertising rooms that can be rented by the hour. 

The birds and the bees being a taboo and uncomfortable topic and there likely being no sex-ed in schools may also result in some unplanned pregnancies. This can have hugely damaging consequences for the female, leading to a tarnished reputation for not only her but also her family. To capitalize on this, there is no shortage of advertisements and signs for “women clinics” where typically either a smart, professional and confident looking male doctor poses in the photo for the clinic or a sweet, doe-eyed, rosy-cheeked nurse gently smiles and welcomes you to stop by the facilities to resolve your problem.


The dating game

The so called “dating game” in China does not seem to be a game at all. In fact courtship and the intended result- marriage, are all part of the mapped out plan which will affect not only the individuals who are dating but their families as well. China is very much a family-centric culture and various rites of passage such as dating need to be considered from the standpoint of the family.

The Chinese definition and notion of dating are very different from those of American culture. It’s my observation that the amount of time from when two go on a first date with one another and then become a defined couple is rather short. Therefore, if I were to “date” a Chinese person and use the Chinese logic for dating, I would seriously have to consider whether I want to possibly build a future with this person BEFORE I even went on my first date with him. Whereas my American frame of reference for and concept of dating means I see a person a few separate times, maybe even over the course of several months with the goal of determining whether I like the person enough to get more serious or whether I just want to have fun and even see other people; Chinese etiquette seems to dictate that one or two dates justifies a full on, serious committed relationship. True- I may have a slightly skewed perspective with no first-hand experience to speak of. I do find it sweet, well-meaning but also comical though when I mention to a Chinese friend that I have dated someone a couple of times and one of the immediate responses is something like “Great! When are you going to get married to each other?” whereas non-Chinese friends may only delicately ask after about six to eight months, “So, how are things going with what’s his name? Are you guys an item now? Are things getting serious?” Six to eight months seems like a lifetime as far as Chinese etiquette goes. I would think the modern Western way of dating may be viewed as immoral, loose and even to some extent pointless if you’re not considering marriage on the first date.

With many younger Chinese people, I notice a sense of urgency to find a mate and get married. I believe this is because of the mapped out plan that has been drafted for them at a young age in order to ensure security and wellbeing for her or him and more importantly her or his family. As I mentioned, certain milestones may be expected to be reached by a certain age. After the first milestone of university or employment is achieved, the next step in the equation is starting a family so that mom and dad can soon ease into retirement, be cared for by their son and daughter-in-law, and gaily spend their twilight years with a cherubic grandchild. I am in awe and admiration of Chinese sons’ and daughters’ strong sense of duty and honor to fulfilling this commitment to their parents. Filial piety and contributing a part in the family unit is a deeply entrenched part of the Chinese mindset and has been for thousands of years.

An activity I recently did with some of my students demonstrates how important marriage and starting a family is to some young Chinese adults themselves. Some students played brokers and sold guarantees for example for happiness, good health, longevity, adventure, career, family, as well as marriage to the clients who had a fictional sum of money to buy the guarantees. Students were allowed to bargain and negotiate the terms of the guarantees. Indeed, the guarantees that sold the most and without extra negotiation were the marriage and family guarantees. I was even surprised that the career guarantees didn’t sell very well. The happiness guarantee, for example, also didn’t sell as well because students assumed that if you had a guarantee for a good marriage and family, then happiness would be a given. A career was not deemed as necessary if a stable, happy marriage provided a sense of purpose and security instead. Guarantees for patience or adventure, for example, hardly sold at all. 

The battle of the sexes: Who wears the pants?

Guys- do you have your real estate in place?

Admittedly, I do cringe sometimes when I hear young Chinese friends lament that they’re getting too old at 25 or 26 and should now have been married. I believe the pressure is felt greatly among males (and this may include Western males if they have a Chinese girlfriend). Chinese males are expected to provide and offer security to any prospective girlfriends who will hopefully become future wives. The security comes in the form of real estate property for a future home. If you are a young Chinese, eligible bachelor you better hope that you have enough money saved up to buy that house because some eligible bachelorettes will not give you the time of day otherwise. Some young men’s parents will already have been saving for him so that the property can be built and ready when their son comes of age for courtship. I have known both Chinese men and Western men dating Chinese ladies who have been pressured about the house issue pretty early on in their relationships by both the girlfriend and her parents. Western male friends have told me of being unexpectedly grilled by the parents of girlfriends or even of girls with whom they have informally gone on a couple of dates on how much money they earn, whether they own any property outside of China, and on their future plans and ambitions. At times I think my Western brothers have it made in China but this is one issue for which I do not envy them. I am happy to escape such inquisitions.

In addition to the property issue, Chinese men do seem to be protective and very doting of their girls and I do believe it’s frequently expected of them. Don’t be surprised to see the occasional Chinese guy carrying his girlfriend’s purse, tying her shoe or buying her expensive jewelry or a mobile phone to show his affection. I have mixed feelings about such acts. Personally, I prefer to carry my own purse or bag. That being said, I can see how some women may find it chivalrous, considerate and caring to have their boyfriend or husband carry their bag and buy them something pretty or useful.

That's right, I'm carrying her purse. And??
(Pic courtesy of Chinesepeoplehavenostyle)

While it may seem I have described a relationship dynamic where the Chinese woman very much wears the pants and that the man must demonstrate his potential and devotion through small acts such as purse carrying to grand gestures of buying a home, I believe that this is an important step in giving the man the upper hand. I think many Chinese men feel that their manhood is being preserved by playing the protective and breadwinning role. For some men it may also be shameful to “marry up” to a woman who is more educated and comes from a wealthier family. Some men may even have power and insecurity issues if the woman is taller (the height and income things contribute to my theory as to why it is so rare to see Chinese men together with foreign women).

Chinese women also experience pressure from the fact that age 25 and older is sometimes considered “over the hill”. It sadly seems that the closer a woman approaches to 30, the chances of her being suitable for dating and marriage begin to wane. Recently, I heard a nightmare story about a Chinese woman who was approaching her late 20’s. Her well-meaning parents were so distraught that their daughter would miss any opportunity to marry and made arrangements for her to marry a man who apparently came from lower standing. The daughter consented to marry this man she hardly knew. The marriage sadly fell to pieces shortly thereafter. The husband was so ashamed of his lower standing and apparently was downright cruel and nasty to his wife. They are now divorced and apparently the woman is now living back with her parents who owning up to their well-meaning mistake, take full responsibility for their daughter again. 

I understand that divorce is also very much stigmatized in some parts of the country and within some social circles. This is particularly an issue for Chinese women who sadly may be viewed as “damaged goods” if divorced (and I realize that this is not only a concern in China). But therein lies the logic of a dowry or the insistence of real estate for a woman when she marries. A hefty dowry is a like an insurance policy that financially holds the husband liable to his wife and her family as well as their honor and reputation. At the same time, if the marriage should fail, at least she may have a little nest egg to support her and her parents if she cannot easily marry again. The belief (and sadly sometimes the truth) is that a man can more easily marry while a woman cannot, especially given the stigma that may follow her as a divorcee.

Divorce rates in China have increased in recent years. A 2011 article in the China Daily cited that divorces in China increased by 17% in the first three months of 2011from a year earlier (as cited in Huffington Post). Before 2001, couples had to get approval from their employers for a divorce. But perhaps it is also a sign that it is becoming more acceptable, at least in larger, urban areas. Maybe there’s indeed hope for many of these broken hearted to have a second chance at love and happiness.

Whether by choice or not, more and more woman are also going the route of the career track first before the husband and mommy track. Such women are said to have “missed the boat” as they pursue fast-tracked careers in business or academia. These successful women, while no longer an anomaly, are thought to be married to their careers and are called sheng nu or left-behind women.

2011 sheng nu anthem lyrics: Hurry move aside and don’t block my way, I also have a car, 
I also have a house, as well as RMB in the bank. (Picture courtesy Chinasmack)

Making sense of it all

Sometimes I am taken aback with how 1950's it is in even modern, urban China.  I may scoff at the pressure Chinese men must endure regarding the property and equity issue but certainly can understand a woman's desire as well as that of her parents' for their daughter to be paired with someone who is financially sound and able to provide for her. As for the sheng nu, they certainly are demonstrating that they can make it on their own without the money and finances of a partner. Perhaps such women can focus then on finding a partner that will be a good companion for them on an emotional and intellectual level. At the end of the day, don't most of us long for a nice companion with whom we can fill our days? The fairytale, happily-ever-after romance so many of my female students long for seems to be the ideal no matter where you are in the world.


Further Browsing and reading:

For one perspective of a young Chinese man and his struggles with being an eligible bachelor:
Wife vs. House: Chinese Men Discuss What They Can Afford

For a heated discussion about sheng nu:
“No Car No House” Song, Chinese Leftover Women Version

What do some young Chinese people look for in a partner?
Leftover Men & Leftover Women Rating Surveys

For a look at the decline of marriage in Asia:
Asia's lonely hearts

And this not so little lao wai went to the market

Customers queuing to buy egg tarts,a popular treat

Steamed bao zi

One of my true cultural experiences this year has been my weekly or biweekly visit to the local market and shops in my neighborhood. My local cai chang or market is located underground on the corner of the streets Fujian Lu and Tielubiejie. Upstairs and outside on the corner, life is a buzzing and bustling. Different kinds of activity and traffic make up a hierarchy in this intersection. A homeless couple sits silently and shamefully on the ground staring down at the sidewalk and refusing to look up as they hold up a tin cup in which passerbys may throw a few jiao or small amounts of paper money. Typically an older couple, one maybe blind, performs sad mournful music on the erhu, a traditional two-string Chinese violin. Pedestrians saunter by and carry little children with split pants or pampered and dressed up poodle dogs. Small crowds of people wait in line on the sidewalk to buy Portuguese egg tarts, steamed boa zi (steamed buns filled with meat or vegetables or sweet bean paste) or KFC style fried chicken. Bicyclists weave their way through the obstacle course of pulled up cars and loitering pedestrians without being knocked over by the stealthy, quiet and sneaking-up electric motorbikes. The mopeds and electric motorbikes, usually carrying at least two people or a heavy load of timber or twenty heavy boxes that are precariously strapped onto the vehicle, have a special status in the intersection as they only stop briefly for drop-offs or pick-ups or may not even stop at all. Mopeds and motorbikes don’t have to actually stop at red traffic lights and the drivers are extremely skilled at keeping one hand on the horn of their bike while the other hand takes control of steering the vehicle ahead into the middle of the intersection while also maneuvering it around pedestrians and larger vehicles coming from all different directions. Taxis stop and go through the intersection as well, although don’t count on ever getting a cab during the time you need one most. The drivers will likely be switching shifts for a 2 hour time block from around 5:30 to 7:30 pm (or whenever they feel like it). The corner of Fujian Lu and Tielubiejie, like many similar streets in this affluent part of China, has an increasing number of private cars dotting the street, most of which are fairly new and pricey. Black Buicks (which somehow have sold quite well here and some wealthy Chinese might mistake them for German luxury cars), VW Passats, Audis and BMWs with tinted windows outnumber the small Chinese hatchback QQ cars with Hello Kitty or Snoopy stickers on them. Mien bao che- translated literally to “bread vehicles” because of their shape’s resemblance to a loaf of bread, also fit into this hierarchy. These vehicles typically are pretty banged up but are practical, especially for the vendors in the market who may load up remaining goods and boxes at the end of the day into the back end of the little vans. At the top of the hierarchy of the intersection are public and private busses. The bus I take from my campus to the campus where I work crosses and turns into the intersection as well as various public busses that can be caught 100 meters from the intersection. Within a moment, one can hop off the bus and be thrown back into the chaos and hubbub of the world below on the street and be back almost on the bottom of the hierarchy. 

Fresh noodles and jiao zi wrappers

Sometimes I stop by the market after work and make my way through the crowds. When I enter into the front hallway of the market, I enter into another world. Upstairs are various vendors squished into small spaces selling prepared meats; fried flat bread and bing (a savory pancake); grains including different varieties of rice and beans; as well as dried fruits, nuts and herbal teas. Sometimes I stop by the woman selling the nuts and dried fruit to buy 10 quai (RMB) worth of raisins. I’ve struggled in conversation before with this vendor and even attracted a small crowd around who enjoyed the cheap thrill and entertainment of watching a goofy and clumsy lao wai (a somewhat crass but commonly used term for “foreigner”) woman pantomime her order of raisins and walnuts. In the end, we all laugh and enjoy our moment of mutual curiosity. 

The precocious son of one of my vendors (2nd from left) with other kids.

 

 

My other favorite vegetable vendor peeling soy beans.

At the end of the hallway are the steps leading down into the market itself. I truly relish my trips to the market. Now that it is a warmer season, a wider variety of vegetables are available which means I am not required as often to make the long trek to the big Western style supermarket located about a 15- minute walk away. I’ve enjoyed cooking and preparing dishes recently where I can just run and get the ingredients I need from these produce vendors. I have two different vendors I like to go to for my veggies. I don’t go to these vendors because they have the best prices or the freshest selection of organic grade vegetables (to be honest- I have no idea whether the veggies are organic; whether the vendors are connected to the farm; nor whether the produce has travelled from very far). Instead I go out of loyalty. I now have some semblance of a friendly human connection with these vendors. The vendor in the back doesn’t always have a wide selection of produce. She and her husband work the table and depending on the time of day, their little energetic and precocious son may also be behind the table. When I first started buying from their table back in February, their son spotted me, looked up in amazement and screamed, “Wai guo ren!! (Foreigner!), ” to which I pointed back to him in cheekiness and said, “Zhong guo ren! (Chinese person!!)” The connection I made over this silly little child brings me back to their table every once in a while. I enjoy asking his mother where he is and practicing my Chinese to just have small talk about family. I also take pleasure buying veggies from a couple who are in their fifties or sixties. Always patient as I pick up countless vegetables and ask “What’s this called? What about that?”, they always respond back with the name (even if asked it the previous ten times before). The husband always tries to appeal to me to buy some other vegetable or cabbage that may be new for the season. Other customers may stop by and ask, “Ni shi na guo ren? (Where are you from?). Oh- America? Hen hao. Very nice. What are you doing here? How long have you lived in China?” 

Fresh eggs

A fish monger

For some reason, except for a small stand, fruit is not sold in the market. Instead fruit sellers sell their goods on the street level in separate shops. Down in the underground market, though, a shopper can buy a wide range of meat and fish; spices; herbs; tofu and other staples common to Chinese cooking. One fellow sells Chinese herbs and nuts necessary for Chinese traditional medicine. A device on his table grinds up nuts or seeds into powder or a pureed paste. A Chinese grandmother may lecture me on the health benefits of the melon seeds I am buying. I take a stroll to another shop below and find a place where  in different open tubs on a shelf are various cooking oils, pastes and pickled relishes such as pressed sesame paste or oil; pickled white radish or green beans; or soybean paste.  If I can’t find the ingredient while looking in the maze of a Western style supermarket, I will find it for certain below in the cai chang. Continuing on the outer perimeter of the market, I come along to a back corner where during certain times of day and I can see live ducks and chickens in cages that can be bought and “prepared” right there to be taken home and cooked. Continuing along the corner, both saltwater and freshwater fish and creepy crawlers are sold. Live turtles as well as eels swim in shallow tubs waiting to be seized up by the vendor to hand to a customer. 

Friendly butchers who broke out into a chorus of "OKs!"

Continuing along the outer perimeter of the market, I encounter butchers and meat vendors. Unlike in Western supermarkets, the meat is not packaged or frozen. The butchers likely get their meat fresh daily or perhaps even twice or three times a day. No part of the animal will go to waste. Different cuts of the meat can be bought and if chosen by the customer, can be sliced, diced or ground. Like many of the vendors in the market, my meat vendors come from humble backgrounds and are amicable Nanjing folks speaking with a thick Nanjing drawl. Last week while making my order, I inserted unconsciously a few “OKs” into my conversation. The vendors all around all broke out boisterously into a chorus of “OK!!! OK!”

A quiet and tender moment in the market.

From these trips to the market, I am always aware that I stick out like a sore thumb. I know I’m the tall female lao wai customer of the market. But, as I continue to come back time and time again, I have developed a sort of informal and basic friendly rapport with some of the vendors. Although there may be some teasing going on about my strange gait or my “OK!!’s”, I feel that these friendly and harmless jibes  are symbols of my acceptance into this small world below. Some day when I leave Nanjing, I will miss this personal and intimate experience and will have to accept shopping again at an impersonal, sterile and largely-structured big-name supermarket.   

Warm hearts and kindred spirits

Running errands in my neighborhood after work is sometimes my favorite time of day. It’s the time of day when I see children out playing; grandparents and parents picking up their little ones up from school; mommies and daddies helping stumbling toddlers learning to walk in the park and when I can witness the overall love and devotion that the Chinese people tend to shower on their children. It always brings a huge smile to my face. That and the little ones here are ridiculously adorable. In the winter, they’re dressed up in about 20 layers of clothes and look like little “ball babies” waddling around. In the warmer months, the babies and toddlers have split pants over their rear ends so that they can easily go to the bathroom anywhere- yes anywhere- whether it’s on the sidewalk for the entire public to see or on a subway train. Once the little ones start talking, it’s simply endearing to hear their children’s voices speaking Chinese.

As a foreign lady here in China, I frequently have a certain privilege and carte blanche to go up to interact with small children- even if I am a stranger. Parents frequently seem comfortable if not delighted when I approach them to say hello to their child and even to take a picture of them. Really small children don’t know what to make of me until their parents grab their hands and start waving it up and down and say to their child, “Say hello! Ni hao!!” Some of those children I’m sure find it a bit of a strange practice to say hello at the request of their parents to this tall, strange unusual figure in front of them.

Occasionally, children’s parents also catch a glimpse of me. One time a mother and her child came up to me. The mother warmly exclaimed to her three year old while pointing at me, “Look at her! You’re Chinese! She’s a foreigner! Do you see?” Some may find such behavior unsettling but I didn’t mind. It was done in a friendly tone. I also enjoy watching the occasional surprise reaction of children themselves when they spot me. I am surprised that in this day and age in Nanjing, a major Chinese city with a large expat population, I still have the odd encounter with children who are bewildered, excited or intrigued by a sighting of me. Last week my friend Mike and I were on a major intersection after grocery shopping. While waiting to cross the intersection, a man and three kids were wedged on a bicycle. One of the boys on the bike spotted us and pointed with excitement with a huge grin on his face when he saw us. Another time I had a funny encounter with some children outside of a restaurant while waiting for a friend. After the children got over their initial curiosity and skepticism of me, they let me teach them the game of “Give me a five, on the side, up high, down low, too slow!!!!” Still, when my Chinese friend Ryan showed up to meet me, the children starting asking all sorts of questions about me. Who is this strange person? What’s her name? What planet is she from?

In addition to the curiosity and warmth I feel extended to me when I encounter children and their parents, I also appreciate how devoted and loving parents and grandparents are to children here. I especially enjoy seeing all the grandparents with little ones. China’s one child policy has been put into place now for over thirty years. This means that some younger parents out there are single children themselves- and their child is therefore the only grandchild. Mom, Dad and both sets of grandparents give full devotion to the child who is seen as the future for the family. When a child is born, it is not uncommon for the grandparents to move into the home to devote their time to being with and raising the grandchild. Many moms and dads work full time so rather than day care, it’s grandma and grandpa who look after the little one. And they relish it too! I see many grandmothers and grandfathers out at different times of day with their little ones- whether it’s for picking up a child at school; kicking a ball with him or her in the park; walking a toddler around the track; or taking her or him out for a stroll with other grandparents and little ones. Grandparent and grandchild are very close- partners in crime or kindred spirits. There’s no lack of public affection. I see shoulder carrying and piggyback riding, hand-holding, hugging, head patting, sweet singing and a whole lot of outpouring of love. It warms my heart to see the special bond of a grandchild or grandparent because I am reminded of my own grandparents and how they meant- and still mean- the world to me.

Many of today’s children I encounter in this part of China are growing up in a vastly different world than that of their parents or grandparents. Previous generations endured many hardships as well as political and economic oppression. Children born in the 1990’s and after have grown up with technology, a connection to the outside world and greater education and economic opportunities. Some of these younger adults are my students. Many of them appreciate the opportunities that have been afforded to them thanks to the devotion, love and sacrifices of their parents and grandparents. Many of them feel a sense of duty to their parents and grandparents. Someday soon, they too hope to get a good job, get married and start a family of their own so that they can provide security, a comfortable home and a companionable grandchild to their aging parents.

For additional reading:

Year of the Dragon: Time to Have a Baby

Chinese Parents Line Up to Have Dragon Babies

My Journey to Learn Chinese

“Chu qu!” chimed Vivian. “Ch-chu qu” I mimicked cautiously. “Chu qu!” repeated my Chinese tutor, this time emphasizing the movement of her lips. Off of Vivian’s lips, the two syllables had subtle differences, the second “qu” sounding like a little girl releasing a sneeze. Yet when I attempted to pronounce the same two syllables- my mouth, lips, teeth and tongue contorted to make the two distinct sounds to no avail. The very basic but crucial element of the Chinese language is distinguishing between the different consonants and vowels as well as four tones. I had thought I had already covered these basics last year and was ready to plunge forward with learning new vocabulary and grammar. The exhaustion that took over my brain after repeating new words and phrases, simple one syllable words on paper, was enough proof to me that I had clearly been wrong. Even the letter “r”, a harmless little letter followed by the letter “i” to make the word “Ri” became a major chore. Thus has begun my journey to really start learning Chinese.

After living in China for almost one and a half years, I realized that I had to do something about my very poor and limited Chinese language skills. At first, I made many excuses for my lack of progress. Being a woman, I thought I was at a disadvantage to my Western male counterparts who seemed to pick up the language easily from their Chinese girlfriends. Comparing myself to some of my younger colleagues who studied Chinese in college and went to school in a day and age when Chinese language classes were more readily available then they were 20 years ago, I would lament that I didn’t have prior exposure to the language before moving here. Being older and also being preoccupied with my job, I thought were also good reasons. Truth be told, I was and still am afraid that when my time here in China eventually comes to an end, I will feel unfulfilled and that my experience here will be somewhat of a farce if I fail to make some headway in the language. China will not be out of my life when I leave. I will continue to watch the country from afar and hope to have a focus on China with future work. Having some language knowledge will definitely enrich my current experience as well as my future relationship with China. I have therefore decided to finally “do something about it”. Last week, I started meeting with Vivian twice weekly in a hope to put a change to this.

It is true that I have learned languages before. But this one is so vastly different from any other language I have ever tackled. Not only is there no familiar language connections to English or other European-based languages, but there of course is no written similarities either. Words in Chinese are one syllable long and are represented by one character. But depending on what a word means, it could be made up of several words put together. This part of the language I find fascinating and logical. For example, the Chinese word for university is “da xue” which translates to “big learn/study/school”. Sometimes, when I learn a new word that is made up of two or three characters, I like to look up what each character means and it helps me have a deeper understanding and appreciation for the word as well as the people long ago who helped develop the word and its meaning.

It doesn’t seem like there are a whole lot of syllables in the Chinese language. Therefore, the entire spoken language utilizes what seems like 20 syllables (ok- that might be a slight exaggeration). Therein lays one of the trickier parts of learning the language. To me, so many of the words just sound the same- a lot of “ch”, “sh” and “hu” sounds. Then part of my frustration has also to do with getting the tones correct. There are four tones in standard Mandarin Chinese and that means there are four ways of chiming out one syllable or word. Depending on the tone of the word, there can be vastly different meanings. So I may say something one way to a person and then get a blank, glazed look followed by “Shenma?”- the Chinese word for “What??”. When the person I am speaking to finally figures out what I am trying to say (usually after I show them the word from my little phone dictionary), he or she then follows it up with, “Oh, you mean…..(Chinese blah blah blah)!” with me baffled and thinking to myself, “Isn’t that what I just said?” I imagine the Chinese people secretly taking pleasure from these little tonal mishaps many learners of the language may make. Vivian shared with me a joke about a male foreigner going into a restaurant to ask the female waitress how much some dumplings cost and instead asked how much a night with her would cost!

Chinese children sometimes seem bewildered by my imposing figure and unrecognizable speech. I was even asked once, "What planet do you come from?"

Although I look forward at some nearby point to learning the beautiful craft of writing Chinese characters, I have decided for now to focus on how to communicate verbally in Chinese. At this time, I can only read a few basic characters and cannot write any. I think learning how to write will help with my reading but will require a lot of commitment and dedication. The strokes have to be done in a certain order so it really is a very methodical process. Thankfully, here in China mainland, they have been using simplified characters for several decades so the characters and words here have fewer strokes and radicals. Hong Kong, Taiwan and Chinese communities outside of Asia use traditional Chinese characters which have many more strokes. I am simply amazed by some people who manage to not only learn simplified characters but the traditional characters as well! A French friend of mine is currently studying Chinese traditional medicine (in Chinese!!) here in Nanjing and has been learning both types of characters. Respect!!!

As you can imagine, it is frustrating at times being illiterate. I keep a small, hand-size notebook where I write new words down in pinyin, the romanization of Chinese words. This at least helps me with learning words and how to say them and can also be used as a quick reference in a pinch. However, if I want to convey and show a word to someone like a taxi driver, it’s useless to show him or her the pinyin. When I’m in a new city or even going somewhere new in Nanjing, I always have the name in Chinese pinyin so I can recite it and then follow it up with the Chinese characters to show him or her if necessary. Maps of Chinese cities that are printed in the West are almost always useless because they have the names of places and streets in English as well as the Chinese characters. What good is it going to be when you are lost in Beijing to ask someone where “Middle Mountain Road North” is when no one knows it as such and then you can’t read the characters on the map to see if you are on the desired “Middle Mountain Road” (which is Zhong Shan Bei Lu- by the way….)? This is also my beef with Western websites where you reserve hotel rooms in China. They usually only give you the address in English- not even pinyin, let alone in Chinese characters. Absolutely useless.

These basic but crucial language barriers between China and outside countries conveys the urgent need for 1) better language materials and media for foreigners desiring to visit China (by both Chinese and foreign organizations) and 2) increased language, cultural and education partnerships. For China’s part, younger generations have been learning English in school for years now. There is also a big demand for native speaking foreign language teachers- and not just for English, but also for French, German, Spanish, Korean and Japanese. The Chinese government also seems to offer a lot of opportunities for foreigners to learn Chinese in China or study in China (even in English!). I do hope at least in the United States that there will be a greater move in the coming years for younger Americans to learn Chinese in schools and universities.

As for my part, it may be too late for me to learn Chinese in school or at a university, but it’s not too late for me to make a commitment to learning it while I’m here. I will have to push myself and keep on track (not an easy thing for me to do, admittedly). One of my favorite Chinese expressions I have learned from another friend learning Chinese is, “Jia you!”. It roughly translates to “Go! You can do it!” and literally means “Add oil”. So in the next few months, I will be feeding my brain with new Chinese words and adding “oil”. So “onward ho” with my journey to learn Chinese! Zou ba!

For further reading:

A Chinese Voice of Dissent That Took Its Time

Calls to restore traditional Chinese characters

A Chinese guardian angel

Every once in a while something happens when we as human beings have a special connection. These moments can traverse cultures and languages and remind us that we all live in a small world and share common experiences and feelings. Recently I had such a special moment and it happened unexpectedly in a taxi cab in Beijing.

My Chinese guardian angel came in the form of a Beijing taxi driver.

Three weeks ago I traveled up to Beijing for a conference and booked a room in a hotel that was tucked way back in a hutong, a narrow alleyway that one can commonly find in Beijing and witness a little of the old world. Little restaurants and street vendors set up shop and customers can enjoy their meal in outdoor seating right there in the alleyway. A community school as well as an old manor with red hanging lanterns and from a time past were also tucked back in my hutong. Hutongs are gradually disappearing as new construction and roads are built in the name of progress. For this reason I wanted the experience of staying in a hutong while I was in Beijing. Problem was, there are still quite a few hutongs all over the massive city of Beijing and most are not marked on regular maps nor accessible by cars. Finding the entrance to any given hutong requires a familiarity with landmarks and shops on the main street where the entrance of a hutong is located. Even the most experienced taxi driver likely may not know exactly where a certain hutong is located let alone understand a foreigner with broken Chinese who also is quite unfamiliar with Beijing. This was the very situation I found myself in when I grabbed a taxi one evening after visiting the Donghuamen night market in Wangfujing near Tianamen Square and wanted to head back to my hutong hotel.

A Beijing hutong

When I initially jumped into the taxi, the driver seemed reluctant to take me. I’d heard stories of many taxi drivers wary of taking foreigners in China because of communication complications. I was determined to get this cab though and showed the name of the location that my friend Felix had penned out for me in Chinese on a scrap of paper. Unfortunately, Felix’s directions didn’t seem to suffice so I told the driver to take me to the nearest subway station, Andingmen. I wanted to make clear to the driver that I would direct him to the hutong from Andingmen but I think the driver thought I just wanted him to drop me off at the subway station and then I would walk. He bellowed out something along the lines of, “I’m not taking you to Andingmen!” and then I argued back and said, “It’s not far. Zou ba!! Go! Go!!! Drive!”

My driver grumbled but took off. I held in my hand my cel phone and tried calling the hotel so that someone there could explain to the driver where he could take me. He said gruffly, “Call the hotel!” It rang and rang. Finally someone picked up on the other end and I handed my cel phone to my driver. A short and terse conversation went on between my driver and the person on the other end of the phone at the hotel. I noticed my driver getting more and more irate and the only part I could understand him emphatically saying was, “She’s alone! She’s alone! I’m not going to drop her off at Andingmen station! She’s alone!” Frustrated, he thrust the phone back in my hand and said something to the effect, “They don’t know anything and are of no help!”

It was then that it dawned on me how thoughtful this man was. As a woman by herself in a strange city, he couldn’t in good conscience just drop me off at the subway station and let me wander and find my way on my own to the hotel. He sincerely was concerned about my safety and wellbeing. I turned to him in my broken Chinese and said, “You are a good person. You don’t want me walking by myself, do you?” He then gave me a look as if to say, “Not on my watch”.

Luckily at that moment, I recognized where we were and saw the shop that was right next to the entrance of the hutong. I called out, “That’s it! That’s it! I know where we are.We’re here!”

With relief my driver pulled over and took a deep sigh. I said, “It’s ok. We found it.” I then turned to him and said, “You’re a father,aren’t you?” At that moment he nodded his head and then gave me a knowing look and I saw in his eyes my own mother saying, “A parent never stops worrying about her or his child, no matter how old she is.” He held up his fingers and made the Chinese sign with his fingers for two and then six. “My daughter is 26.” I smiled at him and told him that I was only a little bit older than his daughter. I thanked him for his kindness and smiled to him for looking after me.

I won’t forget that man and his random act of kindness. No sooner did I get back to my hotel that I phoned my own mother to share the goodwill of the Chinese guardian angel who briefly looked after her daughter.