by Annie Wang
The tall man seems to be the leader. He raises his arms to the sky, faces the White House, and says in a loud voice, "Long live the friendship between the American people and the Chinese people!"
"Where are you going next?" I ask the young man.
"Vegas. Of course. We are going to eat lobsters and watch strippers dance and gamble!" The young man answers with pride and excitement.
"Have fun!" I am about to leave.
"Can I talk to you in private?" The tall man stops me.
"Sure."
"You see, what Little Wang just said was just his own agenda in Vegas. I haven't approved yet. As a matter of fact, I'm worried these young people will be badly influenced by the West. Thanks to Deng Xiaoping's open-door policy and the great vision of our great Communist Party, we can eat lobsters quite often in China now. It's no longer a big deal or something corrupting. As for his second agenda, at first I disapproved of it. I wanted to protect these young officials from corrupt thoughts and behaviors. Then Little Wang and the other younger members argued with me, saying that the party encourages older officials like me to be more open-minded. So I think, in order to show some respect for the young and be open-minded, I can't be too arbitrary, which means that I need to make a decision based on facts. That is to say, only when I see how decadent the dance is and make a fair evaluation can I make the right decision."
"So why are you telling me this?" I ask.
"I'm thinking of going to a strip club tonight here to check it out by myself. It will help me make a decision for our group."
"To be honest, I'm not familiar with Washington either. If you have a local tour guide, you can ask him."
"We do have a tour guide, but if he told other group members about my inquiry, it would make me look bad. I told everybody to preserve the purity of us all, I wouldn't go to a strip club. But now I've decided to sacrifice my own purity to protect the purity of the other party members. If you take me there, I can pay your ticket and tips as well. The expenses can be reimbursed by our work-unit if it says entertainment fee."
For a second, I want to take him up on his offer and bring him to a male strip joint where I imagine myself throwing free money to hunks who strip-dance for me. But I kill the idea right away.
"It will be much more fun if you go there with your wife or girlfriend," I say to the man and wave good-bye.
As I walk back, I realize that I am going back to China tomorrow. America without Len is fine. I can have fun and have a relationship.
53 Shenzhen, Shenzhen
My returning itinerary is a flight from D.C. to Los Angeles, then from Los Angeles to Hong Kong. From Hong Kong, I will stop over in Shenzhen for a story of the factory workers there who are an important part of the global economic chain that produces the goods that Wal-Mart or Nike stores sell in the United States. Even though Nike shoes can sell for sixty to a hundred dollars a pair in the United States (and nowadays in China too!), the factory workers that produce them get paid pennies in comparison.
On the airplane from L.A. to Hong Kong, I sit next to a middle-aged American man named Steve. Steve tells me that he is an engineer manager of a well-known American high-tech company, Sun Microsystems. In recent years, more and more American companies have either moved their manufacturing sites to China or use Chinese factories as their OEM sites because of the lower costs here. This new geo-economic shift has also changed Steve's lifestyle. With his company's growing business in this part of the world, he commutes between China and California. This time, he is going to visit the company's OEM site in Shenzhen.
I have noticed that Steve's face turns red and his eyes sparkle as he mentions the city's name.
"You seem to be very excited about the trip to Shenzhen. Is it your first time?" I ask.
"No. My third time, " Steve answers, then volunteers his story. "My job is to help my company select manufacturing sites in Asia. So I have been to most of the big cities there. I think Hong Kong is a beautiful city, but too westernized and expensive. Now, it's become a transit point. I find the city of Taipei has no character; I don't find it interesting. Singapore is very boring. I love Shenzhen."
"Why?"
"Actually, my colleagues and I all know that everywhere is pretty much the same in terms of the capacity of one manufacturing site. The defining factor is always the women of that place. If we like the women there, we can manipulate the data a little bit and give a glowing recommendation so the factories can be set up there. So we can travel there later."
"Sounds like you like the women in Shenzhen," I say.
"Yes, they are beautiful and friendly. I was a former naval officer. Shenzhen reminds me of the Philippines and Hong Kong fifteen or twenty years ago. Back in the States, I have my middle-age crisis. But every time I come to Shenzhen, I feel younger and recharged. Those available, open-minded young Chinese women make me feel good about myself. After all, I can still get attention!"
"How do you meet them?" I am curious.
"I've met several girls on the Internet and I've picked girls up at bars and disco clubs. Or simply, my vendors introduce them to me. My colleagues are all doing the same thing. Often we go hunting together." Steve says.
I didn't expect that Steve would be so blatant in talking about his sexual conquests.
"Guess what I don't like about Asian women," Steve says.
"What?"
"Southerners are too skinny."
"How much does your wife back in the States weigh?"
"Two hundred pounds."
Clearly Steve likes an alternative to his heavier wife; his protestations notwithstanding, his eyes give away his desire. The conversation continues for a while as Steve orders a series of drinks. I am becoming concerned as Steve looks at me longingly, not even attempting to hide his intentions.
Steve's conversation becomes more and more personal as the hours and miles flow by.
"Those earrings are charming."
"Your sweater fits you so well."
"You should wear only short skirts or tight slacks."
Fortunately, I have the aisle seat, so I don't have to climb over him to go to the toilet. As the plane is somewhere over Japan, Steve plays his trump card. "Niuniu, do you want to become a member of the mile-high club?" he asks.
"The mile-high club? What's that?" I ask.
Steve leers at me and says, "That's a club of people who have made love at thirty-five thousand feet above sea level in an airliner's toilet."
I smile sweetly. "Sounds great. Let me get ready. I'll be in the toilet on the right in the tail section. Give me about three minutes." But I head directly to the stewardesses in the galley. The plane has plenty of available seats in business class, so I get myself a midflight upgrade, and Steve gets a bracing surprise when he finds himself facing a hulking six-foot male steward who is waiting in the toilet stall on the right in the tail section.
"You can pick your day to travel, how much you are willing to pay, and where you want to sit, but you can't pick your companion in the next seat when you fly solo. Nowadays, you have to pray it's not some horny old goat," I think as the plane taxies in at Hong Kong. Now I know why some women want to marry rich men who have private jets.
54 The Death of a Singer
Once safely off the plane and away from Steve's gaze I catch a cab back from the airport. It is four in the morning, and as the car makes its way through the quiet city that is just starting to come to life, I think back longingly on the United States and the life I had there. This has been my first time back since my relationship with Len took a nosedive into the San Francisco Bay. I had been nervous that the trip would bring back only bad memories, but it turned out to be just what I needed. Visiting so many familiar and friendly places, I sometimes wondered why I chose to leave in the first place. I think I made the right choice by not going to the Bay Area. I'm not ready to go back to Berkeley, a place I cherish and fear at the same time. I love the intellectual stimulation and the free-wheeling lifestyle there, but a
ll my memories of sunny Berkeley are linked to Len in some way. I did regret not getting a chance to hike in Muir Woods, or drive my car up to Big Sur, or just sit on Telegraph Avenue and watch the hippies mingle with the doomsday prophets, middle-class college students, and local street kids.
Despite what I had heard in China, everything is still going great in the United States. People are friendly and happy as usual. I realize now that when I chose to leave, there wasn't anything wrong with the United States; there was something wrong with my state of mind. I am able to enjoy everything that the United States has to offer. It is as if my time in China really has healed me.
I spend three days in Shenzhen on my interviews. Then I'm finally back in Beijing. Beibei is supposed to pick me up at the airport. However, Beibei doesn't show up; instead, she sends her driver, Da Chen.
"President Beibei is preoccupied," Da Chen explains to me. "Little Bench has just died of pneumonia."
Little Bench was the gay singer whose former lover tried to set himself on fire in public after being dumped. The incident exposed the secret of Little Bench's sexual orientation and initially hurt Chichi Entertainment Company's record sales tremendously. Beibei had to pour in bundles of money to hire a Chicago-based public relations firm to rebuild Little Bench's image in China.
The American PR firm was brilliant. They had reporters write articles about how Little Bench suffered from humiliation and poverty during his childhood as a peasant boy and how he was seduced by a wealthy businessman during his teenage years and eventually became his sex slave. Little Bench tried to commit suicide many times, but music saved his life. Little Bench turned into a tragic hero as his traumatic experiences were revealed, and this won both the sympathy and the understanding of his fans. His record sales climbed up the charts in the following year.
I am still in shock over Little Bench's demise when Beibei rings me. "I'm sorry that I wasn't able to pick you up at the airport myself. I need to tell you what happened when you were away. Niuniu, I'm a businesswoman, but I'm not heartless. I can't believe what the young people in my company have done. They make money out of death. Can you believe it?"
I exclaim, "What? Tell me more!"
Two hours later, I meet with Beibei in W8, a bar owned by author Wang Shuo and director Jiang Wen.
Beibei orders a martini and begins to talk. "After learning that Little Bench was close to death, I called a top-level executive meeting. Little Bench's agent Song Dynasty said that it was the time to promote his death. I vetoed the idea right away, but he argued, 'To be a legend, one has to die young and in a dramatic fashion like James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley, and John Lennon. The more dramatic and mysterious the death is, the more interest one can generate.' I thought he was just ridiculous and hideous, but I didn't expect the majority to agree with his proposal. They told me I had been simply outvoted and this was how democracy worked."
I say, "I guess because Little Bench was young, and because many people suspect that he had AIDS, those people in your company thought his death would be a hot topic."
Beibei nods. "Exactly. It's a good time for them to promote his records. You see, the Chinese have quickly learned the art of marketing."
I remark, "I wonder if the MBA students in Harvard Business School or Wharton would be so 'business-savvy' to use death to promote products. I bet not. They must have a class called Work Ethics they have to take. This story reminds me of Columbia Asia's newly released movie The Big Shot's Funeral Life mimics art!"
Beibei lights a cigarette, "Life is more lud icrous than art. The hospital where Little Bench stayed was a mess after the news broke. People from all walks of life flocked there. Some self-proclaimed tai chi masters came. They were making movements and giving demonstrations, claiming that they could prolong Little Bench's life for three more days. The fortune-tellers came. They tried to predict the exact time of his death. Reporters came trying to find AIDS-related information. The paparazzi came too, with their cameras and sleeping bags. They were not permitted to camp out in the hospital. Then lawyers came, hoping to find a possible lawsuit, after two reporters were pushed to the ground by a visiting celebrity's bodyguard. Coy-ote.com came. They set up a Web site so people off-site could get an update of the events…"
I comment, "Sounds like the hospital became a circus! Everybody there was out to make a buck."
Beibei takes a sip of the martini and adds, "I haven't even told you about Little Bench's uncle yet. Right after Little Bench took his last breath, the uncle held a press conference to announce Little Bench's death and launch his newly published book Tuesdays with Little Bench: The Story of My Nephew and His Lovers."
I ask, "Where was the funeral held?"
"Song Dynasty suggested holding the funeral in the Workers Stadium where Little Bench had performed. He wanted to sell tickets to the public. I objected mightily, but the majority ruled again. More tickets were sold to the funeral than to his last three concerts combined!"
55 Christmas Thoughts
Christmas grows more and more popular in China. Beibei's company Chichi Entertainment gives its employees a half-day off on December 24 and takes them bowling. Beibei has invited us to join her. Lulu can't make it because she is attending a fashion show in Hong Kong. CC and I come.
We talk about Christmas shopping. CC shows the Gucci watch she has bought for herself. I show them the iPod I have bought for my half-sisters. Beibei shows us a key. "I didn't buy anything for myself, but I bought this as a Christmas gift for my folks."
"What is it? A car? I was told people over sixty are not eligible to take driving tests. Are your parents already licensed to drive?" CC asks.
"No. It's not a car – it's a condo," Beibei says proudly.
CC exclaims, "Holy cow! Such an expensive gift!"
Beibei says, "If I didn't buy it for them, they could never afford to buy a new place. They've lived in the shitty place their factory assigned to them for twenty years."
CC is confused. "Beibei, your grandfather was a high-ranking officer in the Chinese military. Why do your parents still live so poorly?"
Beibei sighs. "During the Cultural Revolution, my grandfather was labeled a counterrevolutionary and my folks suffered as his son and daughter-in-law. It wasn't until Lin Biao's failed coup in 1971, when the fundamentalists and radicals were purged from the party, that the government finally began to depoliticize and my grandparents were rehabilitated. After the Cultural Revolution, my parents were afraid of being called members of taizi dang, the "Prince Party," and bringing trouble to my grandfather, so they never used my grandfather's title to do things for themselves. They fear this and fear that and they always follow the rules, and they taught me to follow the rules. But what did they really get? Some award certificates, soaps and towels as prizes, and a small apartment with a concrete floor."
I sigh. "Your father's generation suffered a lot in China. They spent their prime time in the worst years of China. They can never understand the wealth the young generation can enjoy, such as owning an apartment with two floors, taking a vacation in Europe…"
Beibei says, "I gave my parents money so that they can take taxis every day. But the idea of taking a cab every day will never be comfortable for them. They end up putting all the taxi money in the bank and still take buses."
I tease Beibei. "I guess your spending three thousand yuan on a shirt is simply beyond their imagination."
Beibei nods. "Yes. I've become corrupt. I used to listen to them. I tried to be a loving and obedient girl. What did I get? My husband cheated on me and my factory tried to lay off female workers like me. Unlike my folks, I have taken advantage of my high-ranking grandfather. I've made it. Money, respect, and lovers, you name it. Have you seen an American movie called The Emperors Club? The world doesn't appreciate people who follow principles and values. It's no fun at all to be a nice person. You end up a tragic hero. More fun to be a winner. I celebrate my transformation into a bad girl!"
"Beibei, you can w
ear Western clothes, drive a Western car, or take a Western lover," I comment, "but you can't forget your role as a dutiful Chinese daughter."
CC says, "My situation is the opposite of Beibei's. My folks took advantage of the golden time of Hong Kong 's growth in the 1970s. I guess I can never be as rich as they are. They don't need any material things from me. But unlike Beibei, I hated my folks for a long time because they always tried to control my life with their money."
Beibei asks carefully so as not to ignite a touchy situation, "Are you going to see them on Christmas?"
CC sighs. "I hadn't planned to. I guess I should. I'll see if I can catch a flight to Hong Kong tonight."
Beibei says to CC, "Yes. Go now. I have to hurry off to my parents too."
After both of my friends are gone, I start to think of my own parents. Mother, Big John, and my half-sisters are in the States for the holidays. Father and Jean are with Jean's family. I would love to spend Christmas evening with my family, but now I wonder where I should go. Definitely not parties. I have been invited to three parties tonight, but I decide to spend the evening quietly in my own house.
My cell phone rings. It's CC. "All flights to Hong Kong are full for the evening. I guess I can't give my parents a nice surprise."
"You can make it up during the Spring Festival."
"I guess you're right. Besides, they are Chinese. The Chinese New Year is a bigger deal. But what about me? It will be so lonely just to be by myself. I spent the last three Christmases in Beijing with Nick."
"Come to my place! Let the two single women hang out and drink hot toddies. And if Santa Claus is late, we will still have Jeremy Irons and Brad Pitt to entertain us."
POPULAR PHRASES
TAIZI DANG: A party made of princes. It refers to those who hold high positions in government or business as a result of their families' high-ranking political background. Nepotism was once common practice in China.