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| Mei |
DALI, CHINA In Kunming, Ju Lian, and I check out the jade jewelry. She confides, “My husband never gives me a gift, not even a card on Valentine’s day. He is not romantic. He never says he loves me. He tells me, ‘I’m not your lover. I’m your husband.’ When he makes love, it’s very quick — too quick. I asked my mother if this was right. My mother told me, ‘this is normal. Chinese men don’t know how to be romantic.’ I think most Chinese women are disappointed with their husbands. It’s a part of our tradition — our culture. We can’t do anything about it.” Later in Dali, I ask Mei, my male guide, “Have you ever told your wife that you love her or given her a bouquet of?” “No, never. Men don’t do that sort of thing.” “Do you know that Chinese women are not happy with Chinese men?” “Yes, I know, but it’s our tradition. It’s something we can’t change.” “Would it hurt you, if today, you bought your wife a bouquet of flowers and told her you love her?” “I can’t do that. People will laugh at me. It will be very embarrassing.” “Do you think your wife would like it?” “Maybe.” “Then, I’ll buy the flowers for you.” “No, I don’t want you to. It’s not right.” “Look, they’re selling flowers on the corner. I’m going to buy a bouquet and you’re going to give them to your wife.” “No, don’t!” I persist. Finally Mei relents. “But I’m going to buy them, not you.” “Okay, I think that’s only right.” As the lady cuts eleven long stem roses, Mei relaxes and smiles, “I’ve never done anything like this before. It might actually be a good idea. My wife will be so surprised.” “But don’t forget to tell her you love her,” I say. “I won’t,” he laughs.
