Recently, I shared the story of my own unlikely pathway to marrying a Chinese man, including what I originally thought of Chinese men before coming to China, in an opinion piece for the China Daily. Here’s an excerpt from that:

When I think back to the months I spent in preparation for that year of teaching English in Zhengzhou, I draw a blank on Chinese men, apart from one simple thing. I assumed they weren’t dating material for me, and I wasn’t alone. An American man who had once taught in China famously told me, “You don’t have to worry about the students falling in love with you.”

It made sense to me. I had only ever forged friendships with foreign Asian men at my university, feeling romance was never a possibility, and had yet to move past “Hello” with any of the Chinese men on campus, who almost never noticed when I smiled or waved at them while passing by on the way to classes. I never saw white women dating Asian men on television or in the movies. Even the handful of Asian men who went to high school with me in my very white, very middle-class suburb didn’t seem to date anyone, let alone a girl like me. It was as if the universe decreed that there was a racial and cultural line that I was never meant to cross if I wanted to find love.

Yep, in my mind, white American girls like me just didn’t date Asian men, let alone Chinese men. And when I read stories like Why Did I Assume I’d Never Find a Man to Date in China? from Rosie in Beijing, I know I’m not the only one.

But beyond all expectations, love happened to me in China – and it was a love deeper and more passionate than anything I had ever experienced before. It was as if I had never truly loved before. Here was China, giving me a real-life lesson in what it actually meant to be intimately connected with someone else.

None of this would have happened if I hadn’t opened my heart to the possibility of love – if I hadn’t transcended my own past assumptions and biases about dating in China.

For me, the interracial and intercultural relationships I’ve enjoyed in China – including, most of all, my marriage to John – have been a transcendental experience. They’ve allowed me to go beyond what I used to believe about Chinese men and Asian men, and have made me more aware of how prejudices and stereotypes against certain racial groups still loom large in the dating world.

Granted, I know that one person isn’t a lot. But I’d like to think that every time someone like me ends up loving beyond their own boundaries — their own perceptions of what it means to be in love – it brightens our world a little more.

Do you think that interracial/intercultural relationships can be a transcendental experience?

Can Interracial and Intercultural Relationships Be a Transcendental Experience? | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国

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Watching a great love story at the movies or on TV with your loved one is not just fun. It’s also an enjoyable way for you to learn Mandarin and understand more about Chinese culture.

So, today, we are going to recommend some of the most popular Chinese romance based films for you to enjoy:

1. 甜蜜蜜(Almost a Love Story)

This film was released in 1996, just before the return of Hong Kong to China and contains an all-star cast. Director Peter Chan is one of the most famous directors in Hong Kong for love stories. Leon Lai was one of the Four Heavenly Kings (ie one of Hong Kong’s most popular stars during the 1990s) and, in 1996, at the peak of his career. Maggie Cheung, an internationally known Hong Kong actress, also starred in this film, which reflected life in the last decade of the city’s colonial period. In addition, the film honours one of China’s most famous singers (Deng Lijun/Teresa Teng) who passed away in 1995; in fact, one of her songs, Tian Mimi, is often heard throughout the film. The film won numerous plaudits at the Hong Kong film awards in 1996 and became known as one of the classic romantic Chinese films.

2. 色戒 (Lust Caution)

Another great adventure film from Ang Lee, the Oscar winning Taiwanese director. In this film he works with Tony Leung, one of Hong Kong’s top actors, and also Tang Wei, who became a major star after this film. The film attracted a lot of “buzz” when it was released as, besides its famous director and actors, it is very violent with very realistic, often graphic, sex scenes, which are still rare in Chinese films. In any event, the film has been described as a very sophisticated love story.

3. 北京爱情故事(Beijing Love Story)

This film was released with the same name as an earlier hit TV series (similar to Sex and the City) but was not just a predictable extension of the TV show. Rather, the film accurately portrayed both the happiness and typical problems of couples of different ages in China. It has been described as a warm and sensitive film. Another noteworthy point is that the actor/director and leading actress actually fell in love with each other and were married after making the TV show.

4. 那些年，我们一起追的女孩(You Are the Apple of My Eye)

If you watch any of the “campus love”/puppy love TV series and films being produced all over China currently, they probably originated as a result of the huge success of this film. The film was directed by Jiu Ba Dao, one of Taiwan’s famous authors, who decided to make a film to honor his teenage love in school. He did not have any prior directing experience and the leading actor and actress were also unknowns. However, when the film was released, it was an instant success, breaking records in Taiwan, Hong Kong and mainland China—making the lead actors in the film superstars, and encouraging others to produce similar films.

Undoubtedly you have your own favorite Chinese films and, whatever they are, we’re sure that watching Chinese movies will help you learn how to speak Chinese more effectively.

If you are a fan of Chinese movies, why not let us know which ones you have watched, or why you liked them. Or even email us to tell us which one is your very favorite; we’d love to know!

Yang is a serial web entrepreneur whose latest website is http://www.learnmandarinnow.com. Yang is passionate about learning new languages and cultures. You can check out the recent Chinese learning research here: How to learn Chinese.
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Speaking of China is always on the lookout for outstanding guest posts! If you have something you’d like us to feature, visit the submit a post page for details — and then submit yours today.

Guest Post: Get Romantic – Watch Chinese Love Films to Help You Learn Mandarin | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国

The Wall Street Journal

Here’s an excerpt from the piece:

My heart aches as I stare down at my old Dr. Seuss Cat-in-the-Hat doll, now covered in splotches of mold. I chastise myself for burying it in the closet: How had I forgotten about the ferocious humidity of Hangzhou, the Chinese city I once called my home and whose climate ultimately claimed this most precious of childhood relics from my late mother. She never imagined this doll would follow me to China.

I was only 17 years old when she died of cancer. At the time, there was nothing to suggest I would end up in China, though China would eventually become a part of me, giving me a home, a career, and a husband.

Read the full article at The Wall Street Journal. And as always, if you love it, share it!

Pub’d on The Wall Street Journal: “Mom, If Only You Could Have Known the Expat I’ve Become” | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国

So for any of you out there who wonder what I look like and sound like in person, well, here’s the next best thing. You’ll also see the “magical dress” in action and that lovely pair of earrings that the host Eyee Hsu lent me on the set just before we started filming (see my first post on this TV appearance for the full “backstage” story).

Besides me, you’ll also have the opportunity to meet two other amazing yangxifu: Marie Smurthwaite and Jess Meider (who I just featured on the blog).

Click here to stream the show online. And once you’re finished watching, sound off in the comments to let me know what you thought about the show!

I Was Just on TV in China. Now Watch the Show Online! | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国

Do you have a tumultuous love story you’d like to share, or something else you think would be perfect for Speaking of China? Visit the submit a post page to learn more about the guidelines for guest posting and how to submit.
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(Photo by Philip Edmondson via Flickr.com)

Flirtatious friendship. Tiger and I met at our mutual place of work shortly after I returned from giving birth to my only child. It didn’t make sense to me then, but I realize now that his interest in me was quite evident by his frequent visits to my work area each day to chat. I thought nothing of it since we were both married, hence, the easy breeze to our friendly conversations.

I’ll never forget the early instance when he sat on my desk and I thought to myself, “Who does this guy think he is – acting so casually as to actually sit on my desk. The nerve of him!” In that same instance, I remember looking into his eyes and thinking “But there’s something about this guy and I don’t know what it is.” Eventually, I found myself having reasons to visit his work area from time to time and on many occasions, I found him waiting for me at my car after work. Despite my confusion concerning his actions, I still took walks during lunch with him. They were welcomed afternoon breaks during the days of beautiful weather. We carried on that way for almost three years.

Courting. Tiger and I learned much about each other during our work-day friendship. He shared some very traumatic experiences he’d endured and I shared much about my unhappy marriage. We also found common interests and laughed a lot. During one of my visits to his workplace, I matter-of-factly mentioned that I had separated from my husband. At that time, he revealed that he had separated from his wife two weeks prior. I think that was the moment the door of possibilities opened.

For a few months, nothing really changed until I sent an instant message to him revealing a dream I had with him in it. From that time, we chatted throughout the day via instant message on the computer. We were becoming closer friends helping each other manage the heartache and disappointment of failed relationships. Neither of us was yet divorced, but in his mind, his marriage was already over (and unbeknownst to me, he was in pursuit of me).

However, I was still thinking reconciliation was possible for mine.

He started calling me in the morning on his way to work and in the evening on his way home from work – almost every day! I was happy to have someone to talk to. He became my emotional crutch, letting me vent and complain on any occasion. Eventually, we started seeing each other on the weekends for meals, movies, and just hanging out. During that time, I never questioned his intentions. He was just a good friend that I enjoyed sharing time and space with.

That was, until my feelings started to run more deeply for him.

Guilt began to set in since I was still married, so I initiated a hiatus in our regular communications with the noble statement, “I really want to explore a deeper relationship with you, but I can’t until I’m divorced. After that, I’ll be ready and willing to go to the next level with you.”

I could tell he was hurt, but he showed no emotion and simply agreed to cease and desist contact with one another. I was a bit hurt by his seemingly uncaring reaction.

For approximately the next 2.5 years, we were in a limbo status between no contact, sporadic texting, brief phone calls, occasional email, and spontaneous weekend romps. It seemed we could never go more than about a month and a half before one of us would make contact – even after he changed jobs and we were no longer working in the same building.

Finally, I filed for divorce and two weeks after it was official, I told him I was ready to take our relationship to the next level. That’s when he revealed that he was not ready yet and was getting back together with his wife for one last chance to see if it could work. I was devastated; so much so that I sought sanctuary in writing a poem to him about letting him go. To this day, I don’t know if he still has it nor can I believe I actually cried about it. Anyway, I valued our friendship so I agreed to stay in contact while he worked on his marriage.

Loosely dating. That was roughly four years ago when my declaration to end our so-called hiatus failed in its attempt to usher in bliss with my Tiger. Since then, we’ve been on separate, but parallel roller coasters catching glimpses of each other at the peaks and valleys through the grey mist called friends with benefits/lovers. He’s been adamant about not admitting how he truly feels about me stating, “We’re not on that level yet, so what’s the point of saying it?” For that reason, I’ve learned to keep my emotions in check (although he does appease my heart from time to time when he knows it’s hurting). I’ve also had a very serious internal conflict regarding whether he’s stringing me along or seriously and patiently planning and waiting for the opportune time to end things with his wife so we can finally start our journey on the same coaster.

My internal conflict led me to reading more about Chinese culture and men. It was easy since I’ve always had a keen interest in Eastern Asian culture. Tiger’s interest in me took me completely by surprise since I’ve never been attracted to Asian men, nor did I think they were attracted to me. However, I’ve since learned that they are very discreet, which explains why I never noticed if any were attracted to me. Now, I can easily tell and, to my delight, I’ve discovered that I indeed turn some Asian heads – but I digress.

Two years ago, Tiger fathered another child with his wife. He insisted he was drunk and she took advantage of his altered state. He also continues to declare abstinence from sex since that fateful night of conception. I have reason to believe what he says may be true. Even so, I still can’t seem to let him go. I know he thought for sure he’d hear me say, “Oh, you have a kid now? Okay, have a nice a life”, but I didn’t. Again, I valued our friendship more than my desire to have him for myself. By American culture standards, he’d be deemed a liar and a cheat because he’s still “there” and, to add insult to injury, he had a child too. But, I believe him to be honorable and loyal.

He continues to show his feelings with subtlety. For instance, he planned and paid for a weekend getaway for us on my birthday this year. Of course, he was nonchalant about it so as not to seemingly make a big deal of my birthday, but he made it a point to let me know beforehand that our status had upgraded to “loosely dating”. According to him, it was for my benefit of course, since I’ve always said he’s not mine yet. I was overwhelmed and I wanted to believe it was his way of letting me know how much he cared.

Three months later, I’m still adjusting to our new status because in my heart, nothing’s really changed. I can’t help but wonder if his declaration of this new status is a milestone more for him than for me. He’s a man of few words when it comes to matters of the heart; and as a Westerner who enjoys free expression at will, and considering the circumstances around our relationship over the years, it’s been a challenge for me.

What now? Well, our daily calls/texts/weekend romps continue. In fact, just this past weekend Tiger warmed my heart once again by accompanying me to an outdoor festival despite his obvious fatigue. He also acknowledged and validated my efforts to refrain from pressuring him and to provide sanctuary for him. Again, to the typical American, I probably sound like a fool for accepting such circumstances. But in my Tiger’s case, I hope I’m not wrong so I continue to pray that I’m not wasting time. After all, it’s been eleven years already. My daughter will be on her own in a mere seven years, and we’re not getting any younger. I’m not sure how much longer I can go on this way wondering if he is saving his heart for me. Only time will tell – if I allow it, I suppose.

To be continued…hopefully with a happy ending.

Lea is a biracial American woman who is still waiting for her Tiger to love her fully.
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Speaking of China is always on the lookout for outstanding guest posts! If you have something you’d like us to feature, visit the submit a post page for details — and then submit yours today.

Guest Post: Waiting for Tiger to Love Me Fully in America | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国

The China Daily, China’s major English-language newspaper, invited me to write a piece on my cross-cultural marriage — and they’ve just published it on their site. Titled “I Never Expected to Marry a Chinese Man“, it covers everything from how I assumed I would stay single in China to some of the cultural differences in dating and marriage I’ve noticed over the years.

Here’s an excerpt from the article:

The idea of dating or marrying a Chinese man never really crossed my mind before I first came to China in 1999. That’s probably the last thing you expected to hear from a woman known for writing and blogging about her marriage to a Chinese man, but it’s true.

When I think back to the months I spent in preparation for that year of teaching English in Zhengzhou, I draw a blank on Chinese men, apart from one simple thing. I assumed they weren’t dating material for me, and I wasn’t alone. An American man who had once taught in China famously told me, “You don’t have to worry about the students falling in love with you.”

You can read the full article at the China Daily. And as always, if you love it, share it!

Pub’d in the China Daily: I Never Expected to Marry a Chinese Man | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国

Back in June, I blogged about being invited to be a guest on the China Central Television (CCTV) English-language show “Crossover” for a show all about the foreign wives of Chinese men.

I’m thrilled to report the show will finally be broadcast in China on Saturday, September 26 at 10:15pm Beijing Time on the CCTV News channel. (Not to be confused with the CCTV 13 channel — the CCTV News channel is in English and it’s listed simply as “CCTV News” without a number.)

Now, I know a whole lot of you out there aren’t in China, but are still dying to see the show. No problem! Just head on over to the “Crossover” website on CCTV, where you’ll find the full episode available to watch online. (I’ll also make sure to post a link to that episode after it’s up on the website.)

To all of you who plan to tune in, thanks in advance for watching!

Watch Me on China Central Television (CCTV) Saturday Sept 26 | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国

When I look back on how much I’ve evolved and grown here – how I’ve carved out a totally different life that, in the end, fits me perfectly – I’m grateful for having been lost after graduation and making that last-minute decision to come to China. I’m grateful that I’ve created a home for myself in this country, right down to finding a wonderful Chinese husband.

Still, my story is nothing compared to what Tracy Slater details in her new memoir, The Good Shufu.

An independent feminist, Tracy was living her dream in Boston. She was an academic with a PhD in English teaching writing to graduate students, just as she always wanted. She had a nice apartment of her own in the city. She belonged to a supportive circle of friends who shared her values. And most of all, she resided in the one city she adored most.

Everything was just as it should be.

But then she met Toru, a Japanese salaryman who was one of her students in an EFL program in Asia, and unexpectedly fell deeply in love with him. For the first time, she was willing to step away from her life in Boston to try building a life with him in Japan, where her world is turned completely upside down.

The Good Shufu is a heartfelt story that captures all of the wonder and frustrations of creating a new life abroad with someone you love, and proves how those unexpected detours sometimes lead to more joy than we could ever imagine. It’s one of the best memoirs I’ve picked up in 2015 and I strongly recommend it to everyone reading this blog.

It is my pleasure and honor to introduce you to Tracy Slater and The Good Shufu.

Here’s Tracy Slater’s bio from Penguin Random House:

Tracy Slater is the founder of Four Stories, a global literary series in Boston, Osaka, and Tokyo, for which she was awarded the PEN New England’s Friend to Writers Award in 2008. An essay on her bi-continental life was published in Best Women’s Travel Writing 2008, and her writing has appeared in The Boston Globe, Boston Magazine, The Chronicle Review, and the New York Times Motherlode blog.

You can learn more about Tracy Slater at her website and her blog and also follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

For those of you who are in Japan or will be heading there soon, why not catch Tracy Slater in person – along with Grace of Texan in Tokyo and Leza Lowitz (author of Here Comes The Sun) – on September 27 for a special Four Stories evening in Tokyo called “Married to the Mob: Love, Travel & Life as a Gaijin Wife”. See this post for more details.

I asked Tracy about everything from the New York Times article that kickstarted the memoir and what drew her to Toru to the close relationship she ended up forming with her father-in-law in Japan.

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Your book came about because of a New York Times article you wrote titled “Why I Won’t Adopt.” Could you tell us a little more about how you came to write that article and then how it ended up inspiring an entire memoir?

I was almost 45 and almost at the tail end of 4+ years of fertility treatments and 2 pretty heart-rending pregnancy losses, all undergone in Japan, where I speak very little of the language. I hadn’t written anything—I mean anything—in a few years because of all of this, but then one day, just off the cuff, I sent a pitch to the editor of the New York Times Motherlode blog about the difference between the desire to have a biological child and the desire to be a parent.

She published the piece (although it originally had a less explosive title), and a few days later, an editor at Putnam emailed me and asked if I’d be interested in submitting a memoir proposal. I was shocked! And delighted! And still totally infertile! So while all I wanted to do was crawl under the covers and hide from the world and my twice-daily-in-the-stomach-blood-thinner shots that my clinic in Osaka thought I needed to have any chance of sustaining a pregnancy, I signed up for a course on nonfiction proposal writing through MediaBistro, wrote a proposal and four sample chapters, submitted it to Putnam, and they offered me a deal.

Working on the book turnout out to be a kind of godsend, because it helped me cope with coming to terms with turning 45 and abandoning our medical quest to try to have a child, since virtually any doctor will tell you that after 44, your chances of conceiving with your own egg are basically zero. This experience and my immersion into grief because of it is an issue I write about a little bit towards the end of the memoir. My husband and I were still trying to naturally, but I was pretty convinced it wouldn’t work and that we were never going to meet our baby–although he remained hopeful.

In any case, the book was supposed to end with me turning 45 and my husband and I being in a childless but still very meaningful marriage. Then, six months before I was supposed to turn in the whole manuscript, when I was 45 and a half, I became pregnant–naturally, if you can believe it. (I sometimes still cannot!) Needless to say, the ending of the book had to change. I handed in the final manuscript, and two weeks later, at four months past my 46th birthday, I gave birth to a healthy, beautiful baby girl. As I write in the acknowledgements of the book, our daughter gave me a happier ending than I could have ever dared to dream.

Your memoir centers around your relationship with Toru, a Japanese salaryman who you met while teaching English in Japan. Even though you write about only dating white men in your hometown of Boston before meeting Toru, had you ever been attracted to Asian men before?

Well, Ken Watanabe, of course! Otherwise, I’m not totally sure—which may sound like a clop-out but is true. I didn’t marry Toru until I was 39, so I’d be dating for a lot of years and must have, at some point, come across Asian men I was attracted to. I’d never officially dated someone Asian before, though.

Regarding your attraction to Toru, you wrote that “I’d finally fallen in love with a man I actually liked.” Could you talk a little more about what drew you to Toru?

Toru was so different from anyone I’d ever met, in some ways. He’s so calm, mainly, and besides how he looked, it was his calmness that drew me to him immediately. I’m not a calm person at all, and I found his quietness, his repose, really soothing to me. As I write in the book, it felt a little like having had a motor running at too high a speed somewhere inside me all my life, and then with Toru, that motor recalibrated to turn at the right pace. Some of that, I’m sure, was just from the security of being in a lasting relationship, but some of it I believe also comes from the equanimity with which he seems to approach the world.

What was your biggest misconception about Japan and/or Japanese men?

I’m still working out some of my biggest misconceptions about Japan, actually! It’s such a foreign cultural in many ways to my native one, and it’s such a closed society too, even if you’re married into a Japanese family, so there is a lot Im still working out—which provides both frustration and a lot of fascination, for me. (This is a dichotomy I also write about a bit in the book.) I think the biggest thing I’m wondering about and working out now concerns women and power. Japan seems like such an unequal place in terms of gender. Women are vastly underrepresented in positions of power in business and government, for instance. But women do seem to wield a fair amount of power in the home. One thing I was shocked to learn is that women control the “family purse.” Most men hand their earnings over to their wives and their wives parcel out money for the family budget.

We don’t work this way in my family b/c 1) Toru is much better at budgeting than me (I’d probably spend our whole budget on shoes in one week…) and 2) my Japanese isn’t nearly good enough to handle tasks like household bills.

I don’t mind this because I feel that we are quite equal in other ways. Also, Toru is pretty unusual and open-minded, despite his traditional-seeming surface of being a salaryman. After all, he did marry a rather mouthy foreigner!

You’ve written about making friends with other expat women, many of whom have married Japanese men. Have you made close friendships with Japanese women?

I haven’t become close friends with any Japanese women. Friendships here seem very different than in the US, and a few of the Japanese women I’ve become friends with have made me realize that friends usually have much different boundaries here. (I do have expat friends who have made close Japanese friends, so I know this can’t be taken as a blanket statement, but it’s true in my case.) In the U.S., and especially in the Northeast, it’s pretty normal to talk about relatively personal stuff without knowing someone very well (or to write a memoir for strangers to read!). Here, there are usually much stricter divisions between public and private.

Now that I have a toddler, though, I meet a lot more Japanese women through our daughter’s daycare or our neighborhood play-spaces, so I’m starting to spend more time with these new friends. It feels hard sometimes because my Japanese is terrible and most people here speak very limited English, and because the boundaries around friendships seem different, but I’m looking forward to learning more about these Japanese womens’ lives.

One of the most touching things in your story is your relationship with Toru’s father, which deepens over the course of the book. Your closeness to him stands in stark contrast to your strained relationship with your father. Why do you think you were able to form such a close relationship with Toru’s father?

I wouldn’t say my relationship with my own father is strained necessarily, especially now that I’m an adult, but it’s true that he’s much less of a typical “family man” than Toru’s father was, or maybe than the average father is. I don’t think he ever really wanted children, and in his generation, I don’t think not having them was much of an option. He’s not an overly involved father, and wasn’t when we were little, but he is a very nice man, and a very funny man, and in his own way I know he loves me and his other children, so I try to remember the limited choices he had as a young man that people in my generation didn’t face.

Toru’s father, though, seemed to have a much less complicated relationship to fatherhood, and there was something in that I found very soothing and wonderful. On the other hand, he didn’t speak much English, and I don’t speak much Japanese, so there as a sort of forced simplicity to our relationship that, perhaps paradoxically, I also found very soothing. I write about this in the book, both in relationship to Toru’s father and to my bond with Toru as well. The idea that I don’t speak the same language fluently—or near fluently—with my husband or his family seems to be one of the hardest for others to accept about my book. But I’ve found it very unexpectedly true, in my case at least, that when you are forced to keep communication to a simpler level, sometimes the bond becomes more pure, less complicated. Especially for someone like me, for whom, analyzing everything sometimes gets me into trouble.

In truth, maybe Toru’s father had a more complicated relationship to fatherhood than I ever knew, but it wasn’t something we discussed, because we didn’t discuss a lot. We just took care of each other—he took care of me when I first moved to Japan and I took care of him when he began to die—and there was a quiet and loveliness in that. It may seems strange—and it was to me at first—but it’s very true, and it’s a truth I feel grateful to have learned and know I wouldn’t have learned had I married someone from my own culture or whose native language was the same as mine.

You’ve always been a fiercely independent feminist who swore she would never be a housewife. Yet as you spend more time in Japan, your life becomes domestic in ways that never would have happened to you in Boston, such as how you prepare dinners for Toru and his father (and enjoy it). Could you talk a little about why you felt more comfortable doing cooking and other housework in a foreign country and culture?

Here’s another paradox I never expected and that some people find surprising (as even I still do sometimes when I stop to think about it!). But the fact that my life as a “shufu” or housewife, or at least my life doing housewifely things, takes place in Japan, in a world so different from my own native one, gives me a sort of remove from what might otherwise be threatening to me, because it feels so circumscribed, so contained, especially by geographical and cultural distances from my native “home.”

Especially with Toru’s father, cooking dinner and serving him tea and bowing to him and cleaning up afterwards, it all felt like a role I was playing out of respect for someone very dear to me, but someone who nevertheless came from a very different place than the one that “made” me. I even feel this sometimes still with Toru (minus the bowing, of course—that would be too much for me, to bow to my own husband, although I do call him “the shogun” sometimes…)

It’s a kind of compartmentalization that perhaps some might question. But it works. And I think all marriages, all close relationships really, work in part because of a certain level of compartmentalization. But even if this isn’t the case, and it’s just me who has welcomed a certain level of compartmentalization into my own home and marriage, I’m ok with that. Because as I said, it works. And i’m very grateful and happy to be in a marriage that works–as well as in one that I know has the strength to change if need be.

What do you hope people come away with after reading your story?

Mostly, I hope people just feel like they’ve gotten caught up in a great love and travel story, because that’s the part of reading I love the best, the getting-caught-up-in-the-story part. And I’d be really happy if I knew I could give that to other people from my own writing.

But on a deeper level, I hope people who are facing paths very different from the ones they ever planned on following, find some level of comfort or hope in my story, some level of assurance that sometimes we can give up or swerve off of our strict plan and end up right where we are supposed to be.

Marrying a Japanese salaryman, moving to his country, giving up much of my life as a fiercely independent Boston academic, and becoming essentially an illiterate housewife in Japan—these were all pretty much diametrically opposed to what I’d always planned and even hoped for myself. But this is the path where I found the greatest love, security, and even sense of rootedness I’ve ever known.

As I write in the book, I learned that you can’t properly find yourself until you let yourself get lost in the first place. I spent much of my adult life, before Toru, doing everything I could not to get lost. And in the end, getting lost was what I needed most in order to find the life that fit me the best (or a life that fits me really well, at least). This is a lesson I’m still relying on, actually, as I navigate new motherhood i my late 40s in a foreign land! But more on that in the next book, I hope!

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Thank you so much to Tracy Slater for this interview! The Good Shufu is available at Amazon.com, where your purchase helps support this site. You can learn more about Tracy Slater at her website and her blog and also follow her on Twitter and Facebook. And if you’d like to meet her in person in Japan, don’t miss her special Four Stories event in Tokyo on September 27.

Interview with Tracy Slater on Her New Memoir “The Good Shufu” | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国

Today, I’m heading off to the family home in the countryside for a little break from the hustle and bustle of city life, not to mention the work that has kept me incredibly busy for the past few weeks. And just recently, a close friend who reads the blog told me that one of his favorite posts was The power of a smile in China’s countryside. So I thought, this might be a good time to bring it out of the archives, along with another one of my personal favorite posts about countryside life.

I’ll be back next Monday. In the meantime, enjoy the following:

The power of a smile in China’s countryside. My husband reminds me that, no matter what difficulties you’ve encountered in life, there’s still room for a smile, a nod and a little small talk. Sometimes, it’s also the best remedy for those sad and lonely days I experience here in China, where the world seems crazy and unfair and impossible.

8 Surprising Things I’ve Learned from Living in China’s Countryside. It’s amazing how you can adapt and learn in a new environment. Over time, I’ve found myself feeling extremely at home in this home and this village. And in the process, I’ve experienced and learned things that, when I think about the woman I once was back in the US, really surprise me at times.

From the Archives: Loving Smiles and Surprises from China’s Countryside | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国

One of the best things about it? Meeting some other amazingly talented yangxifu (foreign wives of Chinese men) on the set, including Jess Meider. She performed an original song in the studio with her husband, Gao Fang, and I was just astounded by her voice and the music.

So I knew I just had to introduce her to you too.

Jess Meider

Here’s the short bio for Jess Meider from her personal website:

Jess has resided in Beijing since moving there from NYC in 1997. A songwriting graduate of Berklee College of Music, she has been gracing stages all over China with her amazing voice in various musical projects. If you’ve lived for any length of time in Beijing, you’ve likely seen Jess perform in her jazz quartet or in her singer-songwriter act. Most recently she has been performing in the electronic duo Jess Meider featuring Chinatown. Jess is one of China’s best jazz vocalists, and has spent almost half of her life practicing the art of performance in music festivals, and in Beijing and Shanghai’s most popular live music venues.

Here’s a short list of cool things about Jess:

• She performed jazz in the VIP Beijing Olympics venue for the Olympians
• She ‘starred’ in a movie with Andy Lau and Gong Li, and two of her jazz original tracks are featured in the movie (“Kiss” and “Now is the time”) “What Women Want” 2010
• She was featured on a track for Cui Jian’s movie “Blue Sky Bones”
• Her voice has been aired all over China in ads for Audi, in Japan for Godiva, and most recently, will be worldwide for Durex Condoms
• She has sung for VIP Events all over China
• She has performed with Gong Lin Na (famous Chinese singer) at the Forbidden City Concert Hall
• She is a featured writer in her Berklee songwriting mentor’s book, Songwriting Without Boundaries by Pat Pattison.

You can purchase her music on iTunes and Amazon.com, follow her on Youtube and Facebook, and learn more about her at Jessmeider.com. If you’re in Beijing, you can check out Jess Meider’s Birthday Show at DDC Club on September 17 at 9pm:

In this interview, I asked Jess about everything from her path to China to her music to how she and her husband Gao Fang collaborate together.

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How did you end up in China?

Fate. (YUAN) there is just no other explanation. I had never expressed any interest or wishes to travel to China. In 1997, I was living and working in NYC, and a guy I was seeing went off to Beijing. I immediately took interest and had to go have a look. I was stunned by the differences; I felt as though I’d landed on the moon. China is sensational – the smells, the tastes, the language, the history, the culture. I spent two months there and was hooked. It was the first time I’d ever left the country. I moved back in early 1998. It was incredibly inspiring and challenging on all levels.

You once told me that China helped you realize your career as a singer and musician. Could you talk more about that?

Of course! I graduated from Berklee College of Music, and upon moving to Beijing in 1997, I had privy to live stages to perform my singer-songwriter music. NYC is packed with amazing musicians, so gigging there requires a lot of persistence to get on stage, and if you’re unpracticed, as I was back then, the chance to get back on the stage after a show was much more challenging. Beijing’s music scene was brand new; it offered me countless opportunities to practice the art of performing.  As one could imagine, the jazz scene was teeny tiny, and there were practically no jazz vocalists.  Any jazz musician knows how much practice is involved before you can really get up on a stage. I was able to practice singing jazz for modest earnings. It was really a great experience (and still is, eighteen years later). I remember my first jazz performance…my friend took me to the San Wei Bookstore, which hosted music almost every night. David Moser, a pianist, asked me if I could sing “Night and Day.” At the time, I was quite nervous that I wouldn’t be able to remember the lyrics. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Look at the audience, Jessica…Do you think they’ll even notice if the lyrics are wrong?”  I smiled, relaxed, and sang.

I recently read that I am “known as one of China’s best jazz vocalists,” which is a nice thing to read…and fortunately for China, I am not the only jazz vocalist in China.

I was also privy to the stage at the Keep In Touch. The owner let me get on stage every week to play my original material. This was a great gift to my performance confidence. Even when I was fucking up, people were forgiving, and I would talk my way back to the beginning of a verse when I forgot a lyric (I’m rolling my eyes now, but then, it really was entertaining to the half Chinese, half foreign audiences).

Your husband is also a musician. Talk about how you met each other, and how you’ve collaborated on music over the years.

I first met my husband, Gao Fang in 2004, in another lifetime. It was brief and my Mandarin was limited, so we couldn’t really connect. In 2009 I needed a bassist for the release of my 4th album, Divine. Someone suggested him. It wasn’t until I formed my rock trio, The Heavenly Stems in 2011, that I found out that Gao Fang (pronounced F-ahng) was a talented guitarist and brilliant composer.

After a few months, we were together, engaged, married, and now have an almost 3 year old daughter.

We now have a new electronic-ish project, billed under my name, Jess Meider. The album “Chinatown” will be coming out at the end of September.  Soon after the birth of our daughter, Gao Fang began composing well-crafted electronic pieces. I wrote the lyrics based on the stages of raising our daughter, from birth to present. Last year in 2014, we began performing the material. It’s just him and I on stage, which is a real treat, because the focus of the audience is more on the music; my vocals and Gao Fang’s layers of guitars. You can have a sneak peak selfie video of a song entitled “Light” and our wonderful song, “Cozy,” shot by the brilliant Maysha Lin.

How would you describe your music?

I think just to be complete, I’ll describe a few of the projects that I’ve done:
My songwriter material is very auto-biographical. Lately, I have not been performing this music. I have always felt comfortable sharing my life experiences, as we all are in this life together, and every little bit helps. My songwriter music is helpful. I have received much feedback about these two albums, Jess Meider Songwriter and Divine, saying it’s very cathartic, healing, soothing. Fans play it to lull their babies to sleep. Friends listen and feel comforted.

My jazz is jazzy. It’s listenable and interesting. My favorite track off of Dao is “Now is the Time,” a piece I wrote based on the Hafiz poem “Now is the Time.”  The title track, “Dao” was written by Moreno Donadel, the Italian jazz pianist I’ve been playing with since 1998. I wrote the lyrics and the song is just a wonderful walk through the steps of the practice of the “Dao.”

This electronic music we’re producing now is intelligent and very comfortable (舒服SHOO-FOO) on the ears; all of the lyrics are positive and fun. It’s danceable. Kids and adults love it.  I highly recommend it.

You’ve released 4 albums in China and are releasing your latest one this fall. How does your upcoming album compare to your past work?

I’ve self-released 4 albums. Candy (2000), Songwriter (2008), Dao (2009) and Divine (2009). Chinatown will be released in the fall of this year (2015). The new stuff is exactly the kind of music I’ve always wanted to write, but didn’t have the programming savvy to write it. Because Gao Fang composed, arranged and programmed all of the new material, it has the groove of electronic but the allure of a intelligent musical composition. It has deliberate melodies carved into really comfortable beats. Gao Fang’s layers of guitars are memorable, and my vocals are like a hip icing on a cake.

Are there any other exciting music-related projects you’re working on that you’d like to share with us?

Other plans include making videos for the Chinatown album, applying for music festivals abroad, and of course, writing new material. I would really like to travel using Chinatown as a vehicle!

In terms of the future, you’ve said you plan to remain with your family in Beijing. Why?

Well, aside from the sometimes acute pollution, I love Beijing. The culture, the language, the history, the food, oh god, the food…Chinese really know what they’re doing culinarily. It’s been my home for 18 years, and my husband is a Beijinger. I can’t possibly imagine leaving Beijing to live somewhere else, and believe me, on bad pollution days, I’ve tried. My Chinese Medicine Doctor (TCM) actually said to me once, “Jess, you can’t leave Beijing, it’s already been so long; your “life artery” (ren mai人脉）is here.

I am also fascinated with Chinese Medicine and the motto “Shun Qi Zi Ran,” which means, “follow the natural path.” I’ve been regularly seeing a Chinese Medicine doctor for 4 years now, and have recovered from most of my “chronic” ailments because I’m repairing my “qi” roadways (meridians). I’ve been keeping a blog about my experiences. I compare Western ‘health’ culture/mindset with the reality of Chinese Medicine. It’s really incredible. I feel like there is so much that I can write about, that at times, I just don’t have the power to voice it all. I continue to try.

Beijing and I are long term…I do think that there are possibilities in the future to have real estate in other parts of the world, but I will always have a home in Beijing.

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Thanks so much to Jess Meider for this interview! Remember, you can purchase her music on iTunes and Amazon.com, follow her on Youtube and Facebook, and learn more about her at Jessmeider.com (where you’ll find her bio, music, videos, and blogs about traditional Chinese medicine, yoga and having a child). And if you’re in Beijing, check out Jess Meider’s Birthday Show on September 17 at 9pm at the DDC Club (50 RMB cover charge).

Interview with Jess Meider, One of China’s Best Jazz Vocalists | Speaking of China - A blog about love, family and relationships in China, including AMWF (Asian male/Western female) love. 洋媳妇谈中国