"He argued that I didn't have a job either and the money was all his. I got angry and said to him, 'We're husband and wife now. There should not be your money or my money.'
"He argued back and I got enraged, so I threw the coffee mug I had in my hand at him. His nose was broken. Can you believe what he did next? He called the police! I didn't expect the police to take the matter so seriously. They arrested me! I was in the detention center for four days. America is a free country – why would the police interfere with my domestic dispute? Also, how could my husband be so cruel to me and call the police?" Dolly's words spill out through the phone.
"You hurt him. You threatened his life," I explain.
Dolly retorts, "But it is common to have verbal, and sometimes physical, fights between husbands and wives in China. My parents often beat each other when I was growing up. I know other kids at school whose parents fought too. How can Terry love me but leave me in the detention center and now threaten to sue me?"
"If you love him, why did you hurt him?" I don't have sympathy for Dolly after hearing the story.
Dolly argues, "But in Chinese, we have the saying, Dashiqin, mashiai. Beating is a way of showing love."
"Would you like it if your husband showed his love by beating you every day? You need to change your temperament. Apologize to your husband and make him drop the case."
"He has always liked my wild and spicy side. Men love barbaric girlfriends. If I change, I won't be attractive anymore."
"Do you think you are attractive in a prisoner's uniform?" I ask. I hang up the phone, knowing Dolly's marriage has gone bad, like a pot of soup that has been overspiced.
DASHIQIN, MASHIAI: "Beating is a way of showing love."
87 Doing Business with China
China has recently been accepted as a member of the World Trade Organization. International companies are keeping their fingers crossed that China will loosen up on ideology and open their media and publishing markets to Western companies. This willingness works both ways. Many Chinese writers and journalists hope to work for a more free-minded globally focused magazine or a publishing house someday.
I'm one of them. Although I like my job at World News, I'd like to write for Chinese readers. It's more rewarding if my friends can see my byline on a regular basis than having my articles published in countries where nobody recognizes my name. Even Sean once said to me, "Niuniu, you're such a good reporter. Sometimes I think you could contribute more if you were the editor-in-chief of a magazine in China and could write your own column there. I see this happening someday. Also, China lacks the talent that you have, with your education, experience, connections, and independent mind."
I'm not sure why my own boss would say something like this to me. But Sean is sincere. Some part of me is willing to jump into local international magazines and publishing houses. Knowing this, CC introduces Lulu and me to Robert Payne, editor-in-chief of a New York – based women's magazine, who is in town on a business trip.
Lulu and I meet Mr. Payne in the Beijing Hotel's lobby. Both of us are excited to hear Mr. Payne's newest information and the details of his China trip.
But Mr. Payne doesn't look very eager at all. "This trip is disappointing," he begins with a sigh. "I've talked to some potential Chinese partners. I thought they'd be thrilled to meet a foreign investor with a strong background and interest. But they were not. At one Chinese magazine, their boss didn't show up. Only her assistant came to show me around. I guess my company should have done some prep work to promote our brand awareness before I came to Beijing."
"May I have your business card?" I ask.
After getting Mr. Payne's business card, I say, "I've noticed that you don't have a Chinese translation on the back of your card. On the English side of the business card, you are listed as Editor. In China, even those who understand some English don't know that the editor of a magazine is really the editor-in-chief. So they probably thought you were just an ordinary editor – one of the staff. In China, rank is key. People get different treatment according to their status."
Mr. Payne nods. "I see. That's why their boss didn't bother to come out. Can you explain another thing? At another magazine, instead of asking me about business, their publisher kept asking me about my own life. Why is that?"
"May I know what questions he asked?" Lulu asks Mr. Payne in reply.
"Whether I live in an apartment or a single house, what type of car I drive, even how much money I make. Stuff like that, very personal. Very annoying," Mr. Payne answers.
"May I know your answers?" Lulu and I both excitedly blurt out at the same time.
"I didn't tell him about my salary. But I told him that I live in an apartment in Manhattan but have a country home in upstate New York. Before I came to China, I was told that personal relationships are the key in business deals. So I invited him to visit my country home. I said I'd drive my pickup truck to meet him at the airport. I thought he'd like the idea because George Bush drove his own truck to pick up the former President Jiang Zeming near his ranch in Texas. But the publisher didn't accept my invitation. I don't know why he was so un-appreciative." Mr. Payne shrugs with some regret.
Lulu and I look at each other. Lulu says, "Let me help you analyze this. I think this man doesn't know very much about the outside world. He asked you personal questions in order to get a sense of your status in the United States. In China, most people don't have any clue how expensive apartments in Manhattan are. They think if your company is big and you're important, you should live in a single house or a mansion."
"But I do have a big house in the country."
I say, "'Country' might be a good word in the States when used the right way, as country club, or country estate, but in China, it has the connotation of poverty because it's where poor peasants live. Wealthy people live in the cities, not in the countryside."
"Pickup trucks are not fashionable in China," Lulu adds. "They are considered vehicles for cargo, not for passengers."
"No wonder they weren't pleased. I didn't know that the Chinese were so class-conscious. What should I tell them about me and my company to make them want to do business with us?"
"You must stress that your parent company is listed in the Fortune 500," says Lulu.
I add, "Yes. The Fortune 500 is big here." Lulu adds. "You should also say that your annual salary is what an average Chinese would make in one hundred years."
"That sounds so capitalistic!"
"You need to impress your partners with your power and success. We Chinese buy it," Lulu explains and I feel we are like two of his volunteer China consultants.
"Finally, don't forget to say that you disagree with the Falun Gong cultists and the Taiwan separatists!" Lulu adds.
"Are you saying that I also need to make a political statement? I need to be both a big capitalist and a big communist to get a business deal here?" Mr. Payne asks with noticeable contempt.
Without waiting for Lulu and me to reply, he says, "But why should I do business with those stupid guys who have no clue about the United States? They just managed to lose a big deal."
Lulu and I look at each other, then at the same time we say, "Pick us as your China reps!"
88 The Mercedes Matrimony
Getting married is expensive, especially in northern China. Let's look at a couple in a small village in Liaoning Province that I interviewed. The annual income of an average household is less than 4,000 yuan, but a wedding will cost the groom's family at least 20,000 yuan.
The parents of the groom are expected to have a house built for the newlyweds, arrange a banquet with more than ten tables, and buy basic electronic appliances such as a TV and a refrigerator.