The Monkey Kings 美猴王

A Chinese wife is like a fortune cookie: sweet and cute on the outside but on the inside they have something that can change the direction of your life.

Joy and I have been together for a year and a half now. That means a year and a half of being called 老公 (husband), a year and a half of hugs that cut off the circulation, and significantly, a year and a half of little fluffy things in the shapes of animals for countless purposes. These cute things have, more than anything, made me realise how differently we think.

You see, I have a habit of using logic to make my decisions and she has a habit of picking the cutest thing off the shelf whether she needs it or not. “Look how cute this is! 老公, can we buy it?” “We already have a garden hose, Joy.” But this cuteness spills over into everything, and she gives me presents like I have never had before.

Differences in thinking are not a problem. The key to any relationship is common values. Urban Canadians are used to the idea of a white man and an Asian woman getting together, but most Chinese people we know have trouble fathoming it. They ask questions like, don’t you two have unsurmountable cultural barriers? Don’t you have continual miscommunications? How is it that two people of such different backgrounds can get together? The answer is always no. As differently as we think at times, we share our most important values. We have even decided how many kids we would like and what sex we want them to be (but I’m not going to tell you!).

In fact, we agree on so many things I do not think of her as being from a different culture. I think of her as family. So does the rest of my family, and none of them except my dad, who came to China for the wedding, has met her.

At the wedding, I met Joy’s family. I had heard of large Chinese extended families but I had yet to see one. They filled the conference hall. I have trouble using up all my fingers when counting the people in my family; Joy’s must number at least two hundred. They thought that, being a Canadian, I was surely wealthy, and so did not need any 红包 (lucky money), so I missed out on that tradition. But I do not get angry at the big things, only the little ones. And Joy is there to put up with me every time.

My mother, who remember has not met her yet, says that Joy must be very easy going to put up with a strong minded brute like me. I have tested this hypothesis every day we have been together. The yin to my yang, whenever I get angry, she smiles and speaks softly. When I get angry at her, she laughs. When I growl like a bear I’m truly angry, and she cracks up.

How has Joy changed the direction of my life? I have another reason to learn more about China and learn more Chinese. Now I can communicate with my extended family. If not for my wife, I would not be bringing China with me when I left. But because of Joy, I will always have a connection to this country, and always return to spend time with my Chinese family. I can’t wait to see my fortune cookie wife’s big bright eyes when we come back for Chinese New Year.

At Toastmasters this evening, the Table Topics Master asked me what the difference in the meaning of responsibility was between Chinese culture and my culture. I needed to think about it but after a minute I said it went back to the difference between collectivism and individualism. Of course, to tag a culture as collectivist or individualist should be taken lightly—all cultures run on a continuum of these two things. So please forgive my generalisations. I am trying to be descriptive.

I have been brought up knowing that I must take responsibility for myself first. Being true to myself means knowing my values and my principles. They are not selfish values: one of the most important ones is to treat others as individuals too. But it does mean that I should not worry about the scorn and judgment of the community but what I believe is right. I should not depend on my parents, the government and so on to solve any of my problems.

Chinese people are taught their entire lives to feel responsibility for their country, family, ancestors and the people around them. The consequence is that everyone has not broken away from these feelings spends their lives doing what others expect of them. It also makes it difficult for Chinese to understand non conformity, such as someone who does not want to marry. People from round my way are taught to respect themselves, and to respect others as one respects oneself (“love thy neighbour,” etc.). That means that, if others are doing something wrong, even if everyone around you is doing it, you should put a stop to it.

That is not to say that no one in an individualist culture feels peer pressure. There can be just as much peer pressure as in a collectivist society. A culture of individualism can make those insecure in their individuality retreat to the safety of their affiliations, be they religious, national, ethnic, familial, and so on. It also does not prevent the so called “keeping up with the Joneses” effect, the pressure to buy ostentatiously to attain the luxury one’s peers appear to enjoy.

Likewise, collectivist Chinese culture does not mean that Chinese people are altruistic. It is rare to see people help each other with heavy bags, for instance, and China is a notoriously infuriating place to stand in line. There is also more pressure to return favours than I have experienced elsewhere, even among friends. I may have damaged relationships with Chinese people by not recognizing and acting on this.

Respect is related to this responsibility question. Some Chinese people will never question authority, because doing so is disrespectful. I have always felt that standing up for myself, even to my parents, means respecting myself; and since that is what my parents want me to do, it is respecting them too.

What collectivist Chinese culture boils down to is an unshakeable belief that one is part of a group, a group more important than any of its members, including you. What individualist Canadian culture means is we must take care of ourselves and our own interests first, and everyone else can do the same.