The People’s Republic of Desire

by Annie Wang

  Lulu's mother, such a fast learner, even picks up things like chatting via MSN Messenger. She even learns some of the Chinese acronyms such as MM for "girl," BB for "baby," and GG for "brother."

  Ching is overjoyed by the warm and emotional e-mails he's getting from Lulu. Three months later, on Lulu's birthday, he decides not to wait anymore. He tells Lulu in the e-mail that he will come and propose with a diamond ring he has bought for her and tell her mother that he is going to marry her.

  After reading the e-mail, Lulu's mother realizes that she has to tell Lulu about the correspondence between Ching and her, and that she has done it for Lulu's own good. But Lulu gets very angry after hearing what her mother has done.

  "I'm going out tonight! After writing to him for so long, you must know how to deal with him. You don't really need me," Lulu yells at her mother and leaves angrily.

  Ching comes with his ring at six o'clock. Not seeing Lulu, he is confused. Lulu's mother has made up a story. She says to Ching that it's Lulu's friend who has been writing on Lulu's behalf, not Lulu. Her friend thought it would give a chance for Ching and Lulu to get to know each other better, but only finds out later that Lulu is too stubborn to change.

  After hearing the story, Ching is not as hurt as Lulu's mother had expected. Instead, he says to Lulu's mother, "Auntie, help me find her friend. She has written to me with such beautiful words. She seems to understand me so well that I'd rather date her than Lulu!"

  Lulu's mother blushes.

  68 Fake Car, Fake Man

  When former U.S. vice president Dan Quayle asked his Chinese daughter-in-law to name the first thing she wanted to do upon arriving in the States, her answer was simple. "Drive," she said. Quayle was shocked. Considering all the attractions the country offered, why would anyone choose to tackle traffic?

  For many young Chinese, car ownership is something to aspire to. If they can't afford it, most feel they should at least have a driver's license to carry around. It's like a membership card.

  Lulu had her driver's license for five years before buying her first car. It's a Chinese-made sports utility vehicle costing only 100,000 yuan – about $12,000. Still, it's a big deal for her. She owns something worth six digits, feels luckier than pedestrians and cyclists who must give right-of-way to cars, and also has an edge over the owners of the minicar Autuo, who are often bullied by bigger cars on the road. Some even have bumper stickers declaring, "My name is Au-tuo. My brother is Au-di. So don't mess with me!"

  With an SUV, Lulu will never need to worry about being cut off. She feels majestic on the road. She sends her family a picture of her new car, telling them she's no longer a have-not in the automotive world. But they are not impressed. First, her SUV is Chinese-made rather than imported, so there's no prestige attached. Second, her family in the rural south thinks SUVs aren't really cars. Her brother writes: "SUVs are like pickup trucks – they are meant to carry goods, not human beings. Why didn't you get a real car, like a sedan?"

  Lulu quickly responds, feeling obligated to educate her family on fashion in the city. She tells them that driving an SUV is chic among the middle class in the United States and in Beijing; it's even cooler than driving a standard Honda Accord.

  "Americans pay more money for insurance and luxury taxes if they buy an SUV," she writes. "Pickups don't represent blue-collar workers. From business magazines like Fortune and Forbes, I've learned that when Silicon Valley was in its heyday, many CEOs drove their beat-up pickups to work proudly." A few days later, she gets a reply from her brother, writing on behalf of her mother. "Lulu, we are proud you have a car now, even if it is just a Chinese-made one. We hope that when you marry, you will be driven in a nice, big Lincoln town car, or a Cadillac, or your brother's dream car, a nice, blue Buick."

  To many Chinese, an American car is prestigious. The Chinese share the American notion of "bigger is better."

  From the tone of their letter, Lulu senses that her family isn't enthusiastic about her car. She complains to me: "Why am I always not good enough in their eyes? First, they complained that I don't make enough money. Now I finally get my own car and they think a Chinese car isn't good enough."

  To cheer her up, I go on a ride with her in her new SUV. On the road, a Toyota 4Runner swerves dangerously, cutting us off. Lulu has to brake hard. She honks the horn at the Toyota and the driver gives us the one-finger salute.

  Now she's furious.

  Generally, Lulu is sweet and ladylike, but behind the wheel, she becomes an aggressive, bad-tempered bitch. She follows the Toyota to a gas station and hops out of the car ready to swear at the driver. When he gets out of his Toyota and fixes his eyes on her, her anger instantly fades. The man is a Chinese version of Brad Pitt.

  "You getting gas too?" he says. His tone is friendly, as if the cut-off and gesture had never happened.

  "Well, yes, I guess," says Lulu. I remain sitting in the passenger's seat, watching them.

  "You like SUVs too?" the man asks.

  "Yes, but yours is better," Lulu replies with a brush of her hair.

  "Actually, mine is also Chinese-made, exactly like yours," he says.

  "Really?" asks Lulu.

  "I just changed the hood ornament and all the signs, and have replaced them with Toyota ones," he explains. "Now it looks exactly like a Toyota 4Runner. The switch cost me less than a thousand yuan. Guess how much a real Japanese import costs? Three times as much as our Chinese-made cars."

  "What a bargain you got," Lulu says.

  "Well, a Toyota is not my dream car," the man says. "My dream car is the new Cherokee SUV V6."

  Lulu closes her eyes. I guess she is drifting into a daydream: the wind is in her hair as she drives off with him. But when she comes to and says, "I guess you love American cars too," he is already pulling out of the station.

  And with a wave, he's gone.

  "Why didn't you stop him?" Lulu scolds me.

  "I thought you didn't like fake men," I murmur.

  69 Cross-Cultural Romance

  People don't seem to get tired of talking about women like Jackie Kennedy or Princess Diana. There is something powerful about being the woman who is able to tie down a powerful, wealthy man for herself.

  Being in the right place at the right time and using beauty as a lure certainly enhances one's chance of landing a prominent man.

  Little Fang befriended CC, Lulu, Beibei, and me while she tutored CC's English boyfriend, Nick, in Chinese.

  She admired Lulu's beauty and glamour, CC's Western education, and Beibei's well-connected family. She once said that compared to them, she felt plain and unremarkable. "I grew up in a humble family and graduated from an unknown college. But you guys have everything." She tried hard to adopt Lulu's fashion style, and she mimicked CC's accent and Beibei's "in" expressions.

  But after she stole Nick, who held a degree from Oxford, Little Fang was no longer modest. She appeared on television talk shows to discuss interracial dating or promote her book How to Date an Englishman.

  She became a role model for many young Chinese women who dreamed of a cross-cultural romance.

  Then, Little Fang disappeared from view for a while.

  So when she resurfaced, we were all excited.

  CC knocks on my door, rushes in, and before even taking off her coat flashes the invitation from Little Fang.

  "Did you get one?" CC asks with her eyes wide open.

  I immediately check a stack of unopened mail on my desk and find an invitation. As I open the envelope, a picture falls to the floor.

  In the picture, Little Fang, wearing a beautiful bridal gown, stands in front of a majestic, ivy-covered Welsh castle. Beside her stands the groom, a tuxedo-clad Westerner – but it isn't Nick.

  I glance at CC. It's clear she is upset. I read the invitation quickly. It says Little Fang and Sir William York have just held a church wedding in Wales. Now the newlywed couple is going to have a Chinese wedding at the Grand Hyatt Hotel in Shanghai and the groom will pay f
or the invited guests' hotel accommodations and plane tickets.

  "I guess Nick is too poor for this woman," CC says.

  "Are you going?" I ask.

  "Absolutely not! She just wants to show off," CC cries, remembering her betrayal.

  As they are talking, Lulu calls. "Have you received an invitation for Little Fang's wedding?" Lulu asks me.

  "Yes," I reply.

  "Heavenly Grandpa!" Lulu exclaims. "The expenses of every guest will be paid for. The man must be stinking rich. Did you see that he has a title? Sir William York. He's old money!"

  "I wonder how she met him," I muse.

  "I got all the details from Nick," Lulu says.

  "You met Nick?" CC grabs the phone from me and screams into the receiver.

  "Yes. His heart is broken," Lulu tells her.

  "He broke my heart first," CC shouts into the phone.

  "In any event, come over to our place," I say to Lulu and hang up the phone.

  Soon, Lulu joins CC and me at my house. Lulu relates what Nick had told her. "When Nick proposed to Little Fang and asked her to go back to England with him, Little Fang said no. She did n't want to leave for England through marriage. She said she had been influenced by the classic book Jane Eyre. Like Jane Eyre, she wouldn't marry Nick until she felt she was his equal."

  "How was she supposed to become his equal?" I ask.

  "She wanted to study at Oxford," Lulu says.

  "With her low command of English?" CC screams.

  "Nick might have helped her polish her essays," I say with a shrug. "You never know. I remember when I was in the States, I helped a Chinese friend write an English essay about herself. She managed to get into Stanford."

  "So Little Fang was granted admission into Oxford?" CC asks, looking stunned.

  "Yes" – Lulu nods – "but we don't know if it was a regular program or some short program that anybody with money can get into. Anyway, she studied there for only one semester. She quit after falling in love with someone she met on campus."

  "Sir William?" CC asks, still in disbelief. She can't believe that Little Fang was able to go to the same school as she did, even if it was just some short training program. Even worse, she quit Oxford!

  "Yes," Lulu says. "But he was married at that time. Later, he divorced his wife after Little Fang's repeated and persistent requests."

  "I guess the real purpose for Little Fang to get into Oxford was to nail down a rich man," I say.

  "But I am still impressed by her wedding. The roses, the gown, and the castle. I wish I had her luck," Lulu says.

  "Luck?" CC sneers. "Come on. When she was in China, Nick was the best man she could imagine having. After moving to England, she knew there were better men out there. Women like Little Fang spend all their time trying to get the best man in sight. Doesn't matter if he is available or not. She's a home-wrecker!"

  70 Walk This Way!

  CC, Lulu, and I have gathered at Flamingo. Our conversation topic still centers on Little Fang, who has just sent us shocking news, the announcement of her marriage to Sir William York. We all decide not to go to her wedding in order to show emotional support and camaraderie for CC. We are debating the finer points of marrying well or becoming a self-made success.

  "Do you think women tend to admire women who marry power and money or self-made women?" I ask the others.

  "Self-made women like Oprah Winfrey are my role models," says CC.

  "I think people seem more interested in a woman who marries well. It shows how charming she is! A woman's power over men is more important than anything else. That's why Princess Diana attracted more media coverage than any other women of her time," Lulu contends.

  "Do you admire Little Fang then?" CC asks.

  "No, of course not. But her Cinderella story makes my life look boring," Lulu says.

  "You've got a better package. But I guess you just can't do things like that," CC states.

  "Do what?" Lulu asks.

  "Always try to nail the most powerful and richest man in sight. Doesn't matter if he is taken or not."

  "I can't do that, that's for sure. I don't click with men of power and money. I always fall in love with poor artists or struggling writers, dreamers who wear ponytails and beards and look cool, but don't have enough money to take me out for a nice dinner." Lulu is equally frustrated with herself and proud of her immunity to money and wealth.

  "That's the difference between you and Little Fang. You've chosen to follow the flow of your emotions and submit to your real feelings. But Little Fang values power and money more than love," I say as I analyze their personality types.

  "I guess that's why I'm still poor and single even though my folks have given me a beautiful face! What I need is a head full of ambitious plans." Lulu sighs and hits her head as if to wake up the dormant ambition inside.

  "I'm no better than you are." CC softens her tone. "My parents wanted me to marry a rich kid like myself. I dated Nick, who didn't have money. I thought I was being rebellious and independent. I wanted to send a message to my Hong Kong parents that there is something in this world called love and it is more valuable than money. But Nick dumped me, just like that. Then I had to listen to my parents say those four words that no one wants to hear: 'I told you so.'"

  "Niuniu, what about you?" CC asks.

  "No. I can't leave a good man for a man of power and money. Nor can I move from one man to another. If I did things like that, I would feel guilty for the rest of my life," I say.

  "Too bad you have a strong sense of guilt," Lulu says.

  "It's not a strong sense of guilt. Niuniu, you have a great sense of values and ideals." CC speaks for me.

  "We might be failures in love, but we are still better off than Beibei. Although we don't chase after men of power and money, at least we don't have to pay our lovers like Beibei does," Lulu comments.

  CC defends Beibei. "But I think it shows that she is strong. I'd rather give out money to a lover than take money from a powerful man that I don't love."

  The conversation whirls around like a tornado, as each girl jumps in with a comment about another.

  As soon as Beibei's name is mentioned, she shows up. As usual, she is late.

  "What have you guys been talking about?" Beibei asks, ordering a martini

  "Little Fang," Lulu says.

  "Ha!" Beibei laughs. "Why are you wasting your time and energy talking here? Why don't you go to a golf resort or fly first-class to some exotic place to enhance your chance of meeting your Sir William York? This place is for empowered women like me." Beibei has a sip of her fruit tea, winking at the hot-looking waiter.

  "Don't tease us." Lulu pleads. "You said that because you're rich yourself."

  Beibei answers, "Why envy Little Fang? I think you all miss the point completely. Women really don't need to have money. With the right look at the right time, and with just the right amount of leg or cleavage showing, a woman can have any man she wants! The rich, the mighty, and even that hot-looking waiter!"

  After saying this, she gets up to go to the powder room, walking as provocatively as she can, and guess what, every man in the room turns to watch her.

  71 The Veterinarian and the Poet

  While Little Fang's wedding with Sir William York is taking place at Shanghai 's Grand Hyatt Hotel, Lulu, Beibei, CC, and I are seeing the new Gong Li movie Zhou Yus Train.

  In the movie, Gong Li plays the title character, a tempestuous young painter who is torn between her two lovers. One is a poor, sensitive, quiet poet who works as a librarian to support himself and is played by Tony Leung Ka-fai. The other is an aggressive veterinarian filled with machismo.

  We come away from the theater in love with the impressionistic cinema. After the movie, we go to a teahouse to play poker and talk about the movie.

  As usual, Beibei, the boss in the clique, makes the first comment. "Tony Leung's performance was so brilliant! I fell in love with him ten years ago when I saw him in the French movie The Lo
ver. He is as sexy as ever!"

  Lulu says, "I read in the newspaper that in real life Gong Li prefers the poetic type of man to the machismo type. What about you guys? What type of men do you like better?"

  I reply first. "I like the poet better. I also find this type of man attractive: gentle, sexy, a bit vulnerable, sensitive, smart, sometimes a bit melancholy. They have a tender side that, when mixed with passion, becomes quite combustible. They make you feel motherly and make your heart tremble and ache, and you feel on fire when they touch you." As I speak, I realize I'm talking about my feelings while I was with Len.

  "Sounds like how I feel when I listen to Chopin," CC comments.

  I nod. "Yes, exactly. I like Chopin. I've never liked men who never shut up. They're intimidating, and at the same time, they lack romance."

  "But successful men are often assertive and talkative," Lulu cuts in.

  "That's why I'm not up to finding men of power and money like Little Fang. I'm all for passion, like Zhou Yu, who travels on the rail of love," I say.

  "I agree with Niuniu totally," CC jumps in. "I've found most men who have achieved a successful career and money are self-centered and hard to deal with. You have to put up with their bad temperament and their overwhelming characteristics. It's hard to feel like you are a partner in life with men like that. You always feel like they want you to walk behind them and not with them."

  Lulu says, "Here in Asia, most of the women are docile and subservient. They don't mind if their men are selfish male chauvinists or much older than they are. As long as they bring wealth and material comfort into their lives, these women seem to be fine with the emotional alienation."

  I say, "Gong Li seems to always play strong-willed women who have the courage to reveal their fervent sexual desires. Her characters are not fake. Perhaps that's why she is so well liked internationally. But in real life, I don't see many Chinese women like the Zhou Yu character, whose love is so steadfast, without material aggrandizement. For example, she didn't get any gifts from the poet except poetry. I have seen and interviewed so many girls who always enjoy men buying them Fendi bags or nice expensive jewelry."