There are more mixed-race couples in China than ever before, especially in the country's larger cities. While it is much more common to see foreign male-Chinese female couples on the streets of Beijing and Shanghai, one can increasingly find foreign women like myself walking hand-in-hand with a Chinese man.
Chinese actor Liu Ye and his French girlfriend Anais Martane got married in Beijing. [File photo] |
Recently, I heard a couple downstairs in my building - an American man with a Chinese woman - arguing about something in English. Likewise, when my husband and I argue, instead of fighting in English, we generally end up cursing like sailors in Mandarin. It made me wonder, why do interracial couples tend to generally communicate in the man's native language?
Scientific American magazine ran an article a few years back that finally offered neurological evidence to forty years of sociological research showing that girls are more adept at learning languages than boys. According to the study, during the language learning process, the language centers in girls' brains are more responsive and active than those in boys'.
This neurological advantage gives Chinese women a leg up when it comes to cruising for foreign boyfriends in Beijing's bars. But anatomy is clearly not the only explanation for this phenomenon; part of the story lies in China's gender roles.
Coupled with the traditional gender gap in China, a woman's superior linguistic capabilities become another realm in which to serve her man. A Chinese woman not only expects to be the homemaker and main parent in child rearing, but she doesn't question the domestic inequity. This stark, 1950's-style segregation extends to language; she doesn't question the expectation that she ought to speak his language and not the other way around, even while he is immersed in a Mandarin language environment.
Being a feminist Western woman, I came into my relationship with my dukes up regarding such thinking. While having studied my husband's language long before I met him, I reject the assumption that language capitulation is my marital role, just as I reject the assumption that I should be responsible for washing his socks.
Chinese women's hyper-obsession with learning English and other foreign languages also reflects economic realities. As men still earn more than women globally, and foreigners still earn more than Chinese workers do here in China (even when paired in the exact same job), foreign men present a level of financial stability to Chinese women that they may not necessarily find in a Chinese partner. This fact alone encourages the flipping of some flashcards!
Interestingly, and despite the odds, foreign female-Chinese male couples thrive in China's artistic community. Economic status holds considerable sway in the Chinese marriage game; as such, artists, musicians, actors, writers, and other creative types, whose positions are viewed by Chinese parents as unstable, may not even be on most Chinese women's radar. These men may be able to find solace in foreign women who value love over money the paramount factor in a relationship.
The same independent spirit that leads these men to a life in the arts also leads them into the arms of independent-minded foreign women. Unfortunately, this often comes with a stubborn rebelliousness that stands in the way of learning their girlfriends' or wives' foreign language. After all, if they're also being financially supported by their significant other, capitulating linguistically would be an even greater "loss of face."
But what drives a foreign woman like myself to want to learn Chinese and then be willing to have it become the primary language of her relationship? After asking half a dozen of my friends in my same situation, our answers were consistent: we just fell in love.
It seems that women are more likely than men to serve the heart with whatever it takes, even if it means being a dictionary slave for a few years to reach proficiency.
Conversely, I have met several foreign men married to Chinese women who say China gives them both financial security and the kind of partnership that is much harder to find in the West: one with a younger woman who is the product of a gender-segregated society. In other words, a wife willing to cook and clean while he brings home the bacon.
One work colleague expressed that the Chinese "need" people like him to "bring them the skills of the modern world." Despite having lived here for six years, this man in his mid sixties married to a Chinese woman in her early forties can only say "xie xie" and "ni hao." Clearly, in his mind, these skills exclude language learning.
With centuries of female submission underlying the social history of most parts of the world, it may be fair to suggest that foreign women who come to China are more willing to learn the language not just because we may be more inclined, neurologically, but also because we are predisposed to be caregivers. Thus, many women feel a cultural imperative to respect the language of the land out of deference and respect.
Yet, regardless of all this conjecturing, the English argument continues a few floors below, and I'm likely the only neighbor who can understand what I am overhearing.
While my Mandarin arguments with my husband echo off the window frames to be potentially heard and understood by the majority of building dwellers, the foreignness of the interracial couple's words below cloaks them in separateness from the rest of Chinese society. Despite my lack of privacy in those heated moments, I am grateful for the inclusiveness that speaking Mandarin here brings me, both as a partner and a person.
Ember Swift is a Canadian musician and writer living in Beijing since 2008. She and her husband, a prominent Chinese musician, have now welcomed their daughter into the world, born in January 2012. For more information about Ember Swift and her life and work, please visit: www.emberswift.com
Opinion articles reflect the views of their authors, not necessarily those of China.org.cn.