Arranging a Marriage Before Leaving China
On my final day in China, I took part in the preliminary proceedings of an arranged marriage. Ayi had tried for days to take me on this journey, but my visits to the Great Wall and the Forbidden City had interfered. On the morning of my departure, however, she woke me up and led me by bus and subway to the home of a friend and former superior at the restaurant where she once worked. My potential Chinese mother-in-law met us at the subway station and took us to her apartment. Recognizing my poor comprehension of Chinese, she relied on Ayi to provide information about my education and family. In contrast to Ayi’s modest home, her friend’s condominium, one of many that she owns, was luxurious. The marble floor, spacious rooms, and expensive furniture were the most obvious illustrations of her higher social class. The immaculate bathroom boasted a sparkling, enclosed shower, rather than a mere faucet and toilet above a filthy floor. Several fish swam in a large, elaborate vase.
Ayi’s friend reassured me twice that her daughter and I could be “putong pengyou” (just friends). She told me I could help her daughter with English and that she would teach me Chinese. Sitting beside me on the couch, she showed off photos of my potential wife. “Hen hao kan” (very pretty), I told her. I then “met” her daughter over the phone. During one of the most awkward phone conversations I have ever had, we exchanged non sequiturs in English and Chinese. I complimented her on her family’s beautiful home; she asked me if I planned to return to China. We agreed we could communicate by e-mail.
I hoped Ayi and I would return home after drinking our cups of coffee. Instead, the three of us went to lunch at a restaurant across the street. I wanted to remind Ayi that I had not yet packed for my afternoon flight to New York, but weightier matters took precedence.
When we sat down, Ayi’s friend, like Shushu, saw in my face a nonexistent Pakistani heritage. On hers, I noticed a line painted onto her skin to complete her right eyebrow. I spoke little but showed off my knowledge of a recently mastered sentence construction. I also politely rebuffed the suggestion that I return to China to teach English.
My mind wandered, as I alternated between trying to follow the conversation and staring through the window at the shops across the wide Beijing street. Ayi was asked which foods I eat and which I avoid. Her friend then ordered a smorgasbord of dishes, including “gong bao ji ding” (chicken with peanuts), peas with beef, and fried balls of sugary dough. Having endured a single tortuous phone call in return for a free, delicious lunch, I determined that things were not so bad. If marriage is indeed in the cards, at least I know I won’t go hungry.
Joe
