by Annie Wang
"So why can't we be as happy?" Beibei asks. "We have youth, beauty, money, a good education, nice apartments, cars…"
"Perhaps we don't have the one thing that peasant women do," I say.
"What's that?" everyone asks in unison.
"Innocence," I say.
There is a thoughtful silence for a moment.
Finally, Beibei says, "Where are we going tonight, anyway?"
"I heard there's an MTV party going on at Vic's," says Lulu.
"I don't want to drive tonight," CC says.
All of a sudden, the countryside is put in the background. Nobody wants to talk about it.
"Great," I say, "I'll drive…"
36 The Gold Diggers
Haidian District is Beijing 's college district. In Haidian, there is a popular belief that there are no beautiful female students at Tsinghua University, China 's answer to MIT. In order to break this stereotype of Tsinghua girls, the student association has organized a xuanmei, a beauty pageant. Many girls on campus want badly to prove they are beautiful as well as intelligent.
I travel to Tsinghua to report on the beauty contest. Immediately after I enter the gates of the university, two girls who have set up an outdoor stand to sell cosmetics catch my attention. Their stand has attracted many female students. One of the sales girls is dressed in black, with heavy black eyeliner and a thick forest of hair. She gives off the scent of perfume from head to toe. She looks far more fashionable than most of the candidates who are buying her stuff. Her name is Ah-Fei.
When Ah-Fei is being interviewed, she states right away that she and her friend are not students. They are here to make money off the Tsinghua girls. Ah-Fei is a bit shy, and most of the time her friend Ding Dong answers for her.
According to Ding Dong, because of the nature of their work, Ah-Fei and Ding Dong have an opportunity to meet many foreign and rich friends. They often receive gifts, and they have more makeup and perfume than they can use, so they have decided to sell their wares to college kids who are obsessed with beauty and famous brands but who can't afford to buy Chanel or Estée Lauder in China 's department stores.
I find my favorite Lancôme cosmetics in their collection. Whenever I walked into Macy's department store in the States, the first thing I would see was the Lancôme counter and the mysterious face of Juliette Binoche. Lancôme was expensive; nevertheless it was my choice. I liked Juliette Binoche's movies, Damage, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, and The English Patient.
Uma Thurman, from the movies Henry and June and Pulp Fiction, was later the face of Lancôme. She is also one of my idols. Uma is a tall blonde who combines Marilyn Monroe's sexiness, Audrey Hepburn's elegance, and Meryl Streep's intelligence. Uma's eyes are as mysterious as Tibet.
Through Henry and Junes director, Philip Kaufman, a good friend of my mother's, I got an autograph from this blond beauty when I was studying in the United States.
At that time, my American classmates all liked Julia Roberts and Mariah Carey. There weren't many people who appreciated Uma. I am not a fan of Julia Roberts, who I think is an open book. I prefer the mysterious European type. I haven't had a chance to e-mail Philip Kaufman. I'd love to tell him that reading Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin is a new fashion among young Chinese female intellectuals, and his movies Henry and June and Quill were voted among the top ten must-see erotic movies by Chinese cybermovie fans.
"I love Lancôme!" I say.
Ah-Fei shrugs. "I don't like Lancôme."
"Why?" I am curious.
"I'm not interested in anything that's imported into China and available at Chinese stores," replies Ah-Fei snobbishly.
"Oh, I see." I nod.
"If we want something, we have our friends buy it for us from New York or Paris," she adds with an upturned nose.
"I see." I take a lipstick that Ah-Fei is selling, and look at it. There is a small sticker on the lid of the lipstick that reads "Nude No. 5," and then after that quite clearly are the words "Not for Individual Sale." This is a free giveaway from Lancôme!
I also notice that there are two bottles of Christian Dior Poison perfume, one classic Poison, the other Tendre Poison.
"Are they your extras, or you don't like Christian Dior either?" I ask.
Ding Dong answers for Ah-Fei. "All Chinese women are using Poison now. Sometimes on the bus there are several women wearing it. The good brands are coming down in price! No one with any class is using Poison anymore!"
"Does Ah-Fei wear perfume herself?"
"What girl doesn't wear perfume? Coco Chanel in the 1920s said a woman who doesn't wear perfume has no future. Of course, our Ah-Fei has the brands she likes. But the perfume she wears is certainly not for women who go to work by bus. Oh, yeah," Ding Dong turns to Ah-Fei. "What's the name of that brand of perfume you like?"
"Miyake."
"Issey Miyake? The Japanese designer's perfume?" I ask.
"Yes. The masses don't know Issey Miyake. It's too new for them."
I notice that one of the bottles of perfume Ah-Fei is selling is only half-full, and has obviously been used. But a girl buys it nevertheless. It is only ten yuan.
I ask Ding Dong, "What jobs do the two of you have that allow you to acquire such a nice collection of expensive cosmetics?"
"We're antique appraisers," she says proudly.
"Fashionable young women like you, why are you antique appraisers?" I humor them.
"In our business, we have a high-class clientele, either foreign, Taiwanese, or Hong Kong businessmen," Ding Dong smugly replies. "They're good candidates for spouses."
"So they give you these gifts for free?"
"Yes. If they want our honest comments on the antiques they have."
"Do you like the job?"
"It's a good way to meet men of quality." Ding Dong smiles.
"Are you guys bang dakuan, gold diggers?" I ask bluntly, waiting for their reaction.
"What's wrong with being a gold digger? All we want is a good husband." Ding Dong doesn't mind being called bang dakuan.
"What is considered a good husband?" I am curious what their definition is.
"A good husband should be tall and wealthy. He should come from overseas," Ah-Fei cuts in.
"What do you mean by wealthy?" My fieldwork continues.
"If you talk about possessions, they have to have the three C's: condo, car, and credit card," says Ding Dong.
"Four C's are even better!" Ah-Fei cuts in again.
"What is the fourth C?"
"CEO! Do you understand what it means? A new word in China!"
"Yes, I guess so."
"If we talk about annual income: six digits in U.S. dollars; over one million in renminbi; and over ten million Japanese yen," Ding Dong continues, explaining their interpretation of being wealthy.
Her answer reminds me of the popular new rhyme: "First-class girls marry the Americans; second-class girls marry the Japanese; third-class girls marry the Taiwanese or Hong Kongers; fourth-class girls marry the mainlanders.
"How can you attract such wealthy men?" I ask.
"First, we study foreign languages. We are multilingual: we can speak English, German, Japanese, and some Cantonese."
"Why not French? French is the language of romance!"
"French people are generally poor by our standards!"
"But Christian Dior, L'Oreal, Lancôme, and LV are all expensive French brands. I guess some Frenchman must have money," I say.
"Yes, but there is an opportunity cost. We'd rather spend more time brushing up on our Japanese. The chances of meeting a well-to-do Japanese man are higher," Ding Dong says.
"Okay, then what else?"
Ding Dong continues. "We learn to cook Chinese food and some other Chinese tricks like playing the Chinese flute or doing calligraphy. Men, Chinese or foreign, like women who can be both domestic and cultural."
"What about college education?"
"No. We don't have any college education." Ding Dong shakes her head.
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"Do you admire the girls in Tsinghua then?"
"No way! We don't want to become nerds with Coke-bottle glasses. Instead of studying calculus, our textbook is How to Snare a Millionaire!" Ding Dong says.
On the way home, I think to myself, what if I start a company, buy the copyrights of how-to-marry-rich books from the West, and sell them in China. It would be good business.
POPULAR PHRASES
BANG DAKUAN: Being gold diggers – one of the downsides of the success of the new market economy.
XUANMEI: Beauty pageant. Such practices are becoming increasingly popular in the new image-conscious China.
HAIDIAN DISTRICT: Beijing 's college district. Major colleges like Beijing University, People's University, and Tsinghua University are all located in this district.
37 Cat Fights
Lulu and I go to the International Club to attend a press conference for the hottest TV series From Beijing to San Francisco. The American-sponsored TV series tells the story of three Chinese women's struggles, love affairs, successes and failures in the land of opportunity. The press conference aims at promoting three actresses – Do Little, Vivian, and J, all in their early twenties – into household names.
Now the photogenic and chic trio is sitting up at the front of the conference room in the presidential suite of Beijing 's Grand Hyatt, smiling at countless cameras and basking in the limelight.
Sitting next to me in the audience is a girl called May, who plays the fourth supporting actress in the TV series. With long legs, big eyes, and a narrow European face, May is lauded by Chinese media as China 's most beautiful model. The Chinese director originally wanted her to play the leading female role. But Peter, the American investor, chose Do Little over her. May's own role is boring and unimportant, and overshadowed by the three leading women. Now, she has to sit with the journalists.
"Girl, I'm a model," she complains to me. "In the fashion world, different looks come and go, but I didn't realize that the TV world could be so much worse. Look at Do Little – she looks like a peasant out of the film Not One Less. To be honest, Zhejiang Village, south of the city, is full of girls like that looking for nanny jobs. What's wrong with these American people? Why do they think she's so hot? She has such tiny eyes; I thought she was asleep up there when I first saw her. A big flat nose and a round face like a dried persimmon. Two wind-burned red cheeks, as if she's been living up on a plateau. In China, she's so ugly you couldn't marry her off, but the Americans think they've discovered a new wonder of the world. They gave her the leading role."
"Perhaps her look suits the character," I suggest. "Lucy, the woman she plays, is someone that wasn't popular in China but gains popularity and self-confidence in the United States."
"But still she would be considered ugly in China. Is this world weird or what? As soon as the Americans hired her, all these Chinese magazines started wanting her to appear on their covers, and companies have come looking for her to do advertisements. The media also praise her for being a Chinese beauty." May spits in disgust.
No sooner does May finish her complaint than Iron Egg, Beibei's former journalist lover, asks the American investor why they hired Do Little. "Any Chinese person could tell you she is just plain ugly," he says.
May confides in me. "I just gave Iron Egg a hongbao containing five hundred yuan. He agreed to use the word ugly to describe Do Little. We have to cei her in public."
Peter smiles at the question. He speaks calmly as if he was preparing for the question for a while. "Do Little is very Oriental, a little Mongolian, a little Vietnamese. Her natural style reminds me of a rural village in the morning, cool, with the faint smell of earth. She certainly makes a unique impression that I don't see in many other Chinese actresses. The success of the TV series shows that we did the right thing."
Do Little speaks for herself. "I leave whether I am beautiful or not to my audience. But I want to say that I'm natural, not plastic. Unlike some actresses, I don't need an eye job, a boob job, or a nose job to elevate my beauty. I'm no fake." Do Little looks into May's eyes as she speaks, reminding everybody that May has had several rounds of plastic surgery. As all eyes turn to May, she storms out angrily.
I find myself liking Do Little. It's her confidence that makes her beautiful. I also secretly wonder: I am judging China like another American.
After Do Little, the journalists' attention goes to Vivian. Rumor has it that Vivian got the role simply because she has married Peter's cousin, John.
Unlike first-rate stars, who often avoid family issues, Vivian enjoys talking about her private life to the media.
"I have to speak English at home. How unlucky I am compared to those girls who have Chinese husbands. But I have no choice."
It is funny to hear Vivian pretending to be unlucky when everyone knows that speaking English is a status symbol.
"Why no choice? You could divorce your American husband and marry a Chinese man. Then you could speak only Chinese. There are half a billion Chinese men out there waiting for you," a journalist says, challenging Vivian.
Iron Egg jumps in. "I've heard on the grapevine that you always wanted to marry a white man. You never dated Chinese. Do you think you're above your fellow Chinese?"
Vivian's face changes, "That's not true. I'm a traditional Chinese wife."
"I've heard that you first met your husband in the Kunlun Hotel disco five years ago – and that you chased him all over Beijing and pleaded with him until he promised to take you to America." Iron Eggs has exposed Vivian's old secrets. And the thought that Vivian frequented the Kunlun Hotel disco suggests that her interest may have been professional rather than personal. Chinese tabloids are notoriously scandalous.
It's clear to me that Iron Egg must have been bribed by Vivian's enemies.
Vivian loses her self-assurance and yells at Iron Egg. "Ridiculous! John chased me like a love-sick puppy!"
The journalists all laugh, including Iron Egg. They've got what they wanted, a perfect quote from Vivian.
Seeing Vivian tricked by the ill-willed journalists, J acts low-key and speaks cautiously.
J talks about how she came from an out-of-work family in a northeast province and managed to be accepted into Beijing Drama Academy. She was discovered by the Chinese director promoting Rémy Martin brandy in a Western-style department store, where she worked part-time while studying.
Now the producers hope she will be the "next big thing," both in China and abroad.
"What will your next project be?" one of the journalists asks her.
"You should ask my agent," she says.
At that point, a man in a white suit steps forward – he is wearing sunglasses even though everybody is inside. As soon as he opens his mouth, everyone knows he talks with a Hong Kong accent.
"Gemenr," he says – the Beijing slang sounds funny coming from this Hong Kong man, and some of the journalists in the audience laugh – "we will take J to Hong Kong, where we hope to develop her career in a number of areas."
One of the journalists pipes up: "Have you spoken to the producers of the James Bond films? They love Asian women these days."
The agent waves his hand dismissively. "In keeping with her training at the Beijing Drama Academy, J wants to stay in touch with Chinese drama projects. She is not going to totally sell herself out to foreigners. She is already considering a role in a new Hong Kong film called No Tomorrow Anymore. We are sure it will be a big hit."
"J has been bought by the Hong Kong triads," I hear a female voice among the journalists, loud enough to be heard, low enough to be unrecognized.
It's said that many movie stars are controlled by Hong Kong mafias. Is J one of them? Or is it just a rumor from J's enemy? In any case, it makes J more mysterious and controversial, which is not necessarily a bad thing for a rising star. Being an entertainment journalist, one needs to follow gossip and enjoy the spread of rumors. I feel lucky that I mainly cover political and social issues, which means that I don't need to w
rite anything about today's conference. As I am thinking this, Lulu speaks. "I'm pretty. I've got so many journalist friends. Niuniu, do you think I should change my job and become an actress? It's certainly glamorous!"
"Can you act?" I ask. "Can you lie without blushing? If you can sleep your way up and still tell the public that you're a traditional Chinese woman, I suppose you can pass the test."
Lulu sighs. "Then, I'm doomed to fail."
POPULAR PHRASES
HONGBAO: A red envelope, normally containing money, used as a gift for friends and relatives on special occasions; often referred to in Hong Kong as lai see.
CEI: To beat and attack someone; a popular slang among the young uneducated people in Beijing.
GEMENR: Beijing slang for mate or buddy.
38 The English Patient
Yingyu, or English, is big in China. After China 's entry into the World Trade Organization, the whole nation was motivated to learn English. First-graders are offered English classes in school. Seniors in big cities get together every morning in their English corner to practice. Even state leaders like to drop English words into their speeches or sing songs in English to impress the public.
English workshops make millions of bucks, especially those TOEFL, GRE, LSAT, GMAT preparation classes. Every teacher there is a millionaire. The biggest English-teaching millionaire of the lot is Li Yang, whose English language course is called Crazy English. He teaches students to learn English by screaming out English phrases at the top of their voice!
What these courses are selling is not only English but also meiguo meng, the American dream. Everyone wants to learn English to get a job, preferably at a waiqi, or foreign company, or to get the chance to study in the United States.