Matchmaking event in Wuxi (not Wuhan)

If Wuhan is a lesser known city than, say, Hangzhou, then Wuhan’s East Lake is a lesser known lake than, say, Hangzhou’s West Lake.

That’s not to say the East Lake lacks is charm. It is a beautiful place, and somewhere among the carnival games, the haunted boat ride, and the little boats you can take on the lake for 15 an hour or that special laowai price of 70 RMB, you’ll find the personal ads section.

In Chinese, it’s called 东湖梨园 dong1 hu2 li2 yuan2, or East Lake Pear Garden. There you’ll find paper after paper, hanging from ropes, taped to trees, some taped over others, others ripped down to make way for new ones, all listing vital stats for single people.

One Sunday, my wife and I went there to find her friend, Li Yan, a husband.

Now, early in my China days, I told someone they did not have to get married.

“But I do!”
“Why?”

And thus came a reply that, after spending enough time in China, becomes self-explanatory.

“It’s China.”

It’s China. Never underestimate the power of those two words.

I was naive enough to think that my advice might be a) appreciated, and even, and this is laughable, taken. There are times when naivety does not serve you well, and when I heard Li Yan’s plight, I had not learned my lesson. Upon hearing about it, I opined that she did not have to get married, that she could just live the rest of her life single, if that’s what she wanted. Those within earshot looked at me like I’d just pronounced 2 and 2 to be 5. No, you don’t understand, it’s China, and since Li Yan is thirty-one and unmarried, it’s time she found a husband.

Li Yan’s family was willing to help her along to the altar, in their own special way. She has a younger brother, and both were living in small alleyway apartments. I visited Li Yan’s alleyway apartment once; a bed that was more a futon than a bed took up most of the joint living room/bed room, with a TV and cramped beside it a computer. There were two windows, one for the vents in the kitchen, and one slit in the shower, which lacked a spicket; you had to first fill a big bowl with water, use a water heater to warm it, soap up and then dump it on yourself.

Her parents bought the younger brother an apartment. They did not buy Li Yan one, but they did allow her to live there, with the understanding that she would soon get hitched.
And get out.

Extra emphasis on the latter, as her brother did not want her there. In addition to the constant questions of  ’When are you getting married?’, she had to deal with her younger brother’s nagging and bullying. They fought often. On one visit to my wife’s hometown, Li Yan did not go; her parents felt it wasn’t proper. Remember, she was thirty-one and unmarried. Unmarried is bad enough, but coupled with thirty-one, it forms a lingering wound only betrothal can heal.

So, with all this in mind, my wife and I went to the East Lake Pear Garden to find Li Yan a husband. The place was packed. Over time, I had grown accustomed to the special attention having pale skin brings you in certain parts of China, and this place did not disappoint. We could not go two feet without someone asking about me. Most asked my wife, with a few asking me directly, perhaps under the hope that the woman whose hand I was holding was just an interpreter or (even better) that I understood Pu Tong Hua, or maybe Wuhan Hua, Tianmen Hua, or other variant Huas liable to pop up in those parts.

Unsure of what Li Yan wanted in a husband, we stuck to people close or older, which turned out to be just about everyone whose papers were there. I guess as you approach critical mass, panic sets in. My wife exchanged Li Yan’s information with others, as if they were businessmen opening up negotiations. The papers themselves had the following information: name, age, occupation, location, hobbies, a paragraph introducing themselves, and a list of attributes (height, weight) and virtues (gentle, diligent, good at cooking). Some also listed whether they had a car and an apartment.

Looking back, I’m not sure if Li Yan really wanted a husband, but I know those closest sure wanted her to have one. Maybe that’s how it is for a lot of people. You’re supposed to do what you want, but sometimes what other people want can be just as powerful. As the oldest girl with a younger brother, chances are you’ve understood what other people want all your life.

My wife QQ’d some people’s contact information to Li Yan. None of them worked out. She did go on one date, but Li Yan just let it go.

She’s now thirty-two and unmarried, on the march to thirty-three. To being leftover. I have not told my wife that her friend can just be single, and likewise, reflecting on what I’ve just written, I won’t do so here. It’s my naivety, and I think I finally understand how well it works.