Lost in translation
It's definitely summer in Beijing. As the heat rockets into the triple digits here, it's a subtle reminder of all that the season has come to represent back in the U.S.--beaches, bikinis, suntans and that elusive other, the summer romance. There's not much in the dusty streets of Beijing to remind me of North Carolina beaches, and my skin screams for a reprieve from its paleness, but that doesn't mean summer hasn't had a way of finding me when I least expected it.
Just a few weeks into my internship here I managed to catch the eye of a 25-year-old Chinese Web designer, inadvertently putting into play the last item on the above list: the summer romance. It all started innocently enough. Chase, Suzann and I decided to make the trek toward the fourth ring road to catch some of the intramural soccer game a few weeks ago between the China Daily newspaper staff and the China Daily Web site staff. After a 2-1 victory by the Web site, we headed off to celebrate over dinner. That's when I met Tom, a Beijinger and Web designer. He's about 5'11" with dark, spikey hair and limited English abilities. However, that didn't stop him from claiming (rather suddenly) to like me and declaring my beauty.
Never one to be rude to someone who compliments me (must be my vain girlish instincts), I did my best neither to encourage nor discourage him, which, it turns out, was part of the problem. I liked him enough to be friends with him, but I had zero interest in pursuing something more. So we chatted on MSN messenger, played pick-up basketball with other China Daily guys and generally hung out, which I was fine with. The awkwardness started one night at dinner when some of the other American interns started teasing Tom about me. Chase took it upon himself to arrange for us to get dinner the following night (about a week ago).
I am nothing if not resilient, and I wasn't going to make Tom lose face in front of all of his friends and the interns, so I said I would go. To say the least, I was freaking out the next day (something Tabitha can attest to), mainly because I just wasn't comfortable with anything about the situation. But I'm not one to back out of something. Dinner ended up being OK because we went to a hot pot restaurant and had dinner with four of his guy friends and sat around talking, laughing and joking for about an hour and a half. But when we got up to leave, all of those doubts and nerves came rushing up to meet me, seizing me with panic.
Tom wanted to walk around the nearby park and then go sit on the grassy lawn at the university across the street from China Daily. I tried to make up some excuses about needing to call Tabitha to see what she was doing, but unfortunately she didn't answer the phone. I was stuck. There were lots of people around on the lawn, so I tried to play it cool and strike up a conversation and be casual and friendly. As a journalist, I'm always prepared to pepper people with questions about themselves.
The night quickly went from awkward to uncomfortable though, with Tom repeatedly asking if he could kiss me. Think about how awkward that is normally if somone asks to kiss you and you don't want to kiss them. Now think about if that person who wants to kiss you has to type into his cell phone Chinese-English translator just to get the point across that he wants to kiss you. Uncomfortable. Or as Kelly and Andrew have both said, If a guy has to ask if you want to kiss, it's probably not going well.
So how to avoid the situation? As a formerly ridiculously shy person, I pulled out all the stops to be my sweetest, shyest version of myself. In short, someone who would never kiss someone that quickly. Yes, those of you who know me also know that's not true of how I am really. So you can stop snickering. Two painful hours later (about midnight), I was able to excuse myself by saying I needed to sleep. I felt no better the next day when Tom called me twice to see what I was doing.
How to fix the situation? I attempted the tried-and-true test of ignoring him to the greatest extent possible without seeming too rude. Others advised me to tell him that nothing could happen between us because we worked together (probably a legitimate excuse in all honesty). My main concern was the delicate cultural balance. We couldn't even communicate very well. My Chinese is probably better than his English, which should speak for itself. One of the things I wished I could ask him was why would you be interested in me when I'm going to be gone in six weeks?
Those of you familiar with the typical American summer romance will think to yourselves, duh, of course we all know why he's into a relationship like that. But from hanging out with him over the course of a couple weeks, I did get to know that he is a really good guy, and he isn't the type who is looking for some quick action and payoff. All of this probably just confused me even more. Although I am not a particular fan of Chinese guys in the attraction department, I can admit that Tom is cute, nice and good at what he does for a living. So why my inaction? Why my practical revulsion at the thought of jumping into something?
Alyson would joke with me that it's because I am racist that I'm not into Asian guys. But that's not true because I suppose under the right circumstances my mind could be swayed. Maybe you could say it's because I'm not that into romance. Or not the romance of the sweeping grand gestures. I prefer the romance of the ordinary. The romance of a guy holding my hand in a shopping mall, going out on late night fast food runs and talking to me about the things that he loves. None of that is waiting for me here.
While I fully embrace my single girl self, probably the truest and most difficult answer is that my heart isn't mine to give right now. I accidentally left it somewhere that isn't China, and until further notice, no one else has a shot at it. It's funny because all spring I joked about how I would have a summer fling here on the other side of the world. But before I even left, I knew it wouldn't happen. So, while I'm not going to have the summer romance that I planned on, it's with the knowledge that I gained something much better, even though it's tenuous and perhaps a little scary.
Just a few weeks into my internship here I managed to catch the eye of a 25-year-old Chinese Web designer, inadvertently putting into play the last item on the above list: the summer romance. It all started innocently enough. Chase, Suzann and I decided to make the trek toward the fourth ring road to catch some of the intramural soccer game a few weeks ago between the China Daily newspaper staff and the China Daily Web site staff. After a 2-1 victory by the Web site, we headed off to celebrate over dinner. That's when I met Tom, a Beijinger and Web designer. He's about 5'11" with dark, spikey hair and limited English abilities. However, that didn't stop him from claiming (rather suddenly) to like me and declaring my beauty.
Never one to be rude to someone who compliments me (must be my vain girlish instincts), I did my best neither to encourage nor discourage him, which, it turns out, was part of the problem. I liked him enough to be friends with him, but I had zero interest in pursuing something more. So we chatted on MSN messenger, played pick-up basketball with other China Daily guys and generally hung out, which I was fine with. The awkwardness started one night at dinner when some of the other American interns started teasing Tom about me. Chase took it upon himself to arrange for us to get dinner the following night (about a week ago).
I am nothing if not resilient, and I wasn't going to make Tom lose face in front of all of his friends and the interns, so I said I would go. To say the least, I was freaking out the next day (something Tabitha can attest to), mainly because I just wasn't comfortable with anything about the situation. But I'm not one to back out of something. Dinner ended up being OK because we went to a hot pot restaurant and had dinner with four of his guy friends and sat around talking, laughing and joking for about an hour and a half. But when we got up to leave, all of those doubts and nerves came rushing up to meet me, seizing me with panic.
Tom wanted to walk around the nearby park and then go sit on the grassy lawn at the university across the street from China Daily. I tried to make up some excuses about needing to call Tabitha to see what she was doing, but unfortunately she didn't answer the phone. I was stuck. There were lots of people around on the lawn, so I tried to play it cool and strike up a conversation and be casual and friendly. As a journalist, I'm always prepared to pepper people with questions about themselves.
The night quickly went from awkward to uncomfortable though, with Tom repeatedly asking if he could kiss me. Think about how awkward that is normally if somone asks to kiss you and you don't want to kiss them. Now think about if that person who wants to kiss you has to type into his cell phone Chinese-English translator just to get the point across that he wants to kiss you. Uncomfortable. Or as Kelly and Andrew have both said, If a guy has to ask if you want to kiss, it's probably not going well.
So how to avoid the situation? As a formerly ridiculously shy person, I pulled out all the stops to be my sweetest, shyest version of myself. In short, someone who would never kiss someone that quickly. Yes, those of you who know me also know that's not true of how I am really. So you can stop snickering. Two painful hours later (about midnight), I was able to excuse myself by saying I needed to sleep. I felt no better the next day when Tom called me twice to see what I was doing.
How to fix the situation? I attempted the tried-and-true test of ignoring him to the greatest extent possible without seeming too rude. Others advised me to tell him that nothing could happen between us because we worked together (probably a legitimate excuse in all honesty). My main concern was the delicate cultural balance. We couldn't even communicate very well. My Chinese is probably better than his English, which should speak for itself. One of the things I wished I could ask him was why would you be interested in me when I'm going to be gone in six weeks?
Those of you familiar with the typical American summer romance will think to yourselves, duh, of course we all know why he's into a relationship like that. But from hanging out with him over the course of a couple weeks, I did get to know that he is a really good guy, and he isn't the type who is looking for some quick action and payoff. All of this probably just confused me even more. Although I am not a particular fan of Chinese guys in the attraction department, I can admit that Tom is cute, nice and good at what he does for a living. So why my inaction? Why my practical revulsion at the thought of jumping into something?
Alyson would joke with me that it's because I am racist that I'm not into Asian guys. But that's not true because I suppose under the right circumstances my mind could be swayed. Maybe you could say it's because I'm not that into romance. Or not the romance of the sweeping grand gestures. I prefer the romance of the ordinary. The romance of a guy holding my hand in a shopping mall, going out on late night fast food runs and talking to me about the things that he loves. None of that is waiting for me here.
While I fully embrace my single girl self, probably the truest and most difficult answer is that my heart isn't mine to give right now. I accidentally left it somewhere that isn't China, and until further notice, no one else has a shot at it. It's funny because all spring I joked about how I would have a summer fling here on the other side of the world. But before I even left, I knew it wouldn't happen. So, while I'm not going to have the summer romance that I planned on, it's with the knowledge that I gained something much better, even though it's tenuous and perhaps a little scary.