Hi there:
First, a belated happy new year to all—to the extent that the current state of the world can be characterized as “happy.” Most importantly, I hope you and your loved ones are healthy, both mentally and physically.
We kick off 2021 with a translation of this fascinating piece first run as a podcast by Story FM on Sept. 7. The protagonists are identified as Li Mo and Xiao Ju Ju, a couple who met while pursuing graduate studies in Beijing. What follows is an unusually frank discussion about the challenges their contrasting urban and rural upbringings pose to their relationship, which appears to be a loving and committed one.
With the COVID pandemic still looming large across the globe—even China, with its all-mighty containment apparatus, has experienced a relatively small resurgence in cases—the tremendous human toll of outbreak still weighs on my mind. In light of this context, our next issue will feature a story marking the anniversary of the Wuhan outbreak and lockdown.
—ML
A Beijing Couple’s Unusually Frank Discussion about Class
Narrators: Li Mo and Xiao Ju Ju
Transcribed by Kou Aizhe and Wang Yinglun
Credit: Tron Le.
1.
LM: My name is Li Mo. I turn 31 this year. I’m a PhD student who’s about to graduate. She is a junior graduate student. We share the same adviser. I started my program in 2014 and switched to a PhD track in 2016. She started her master’s studies in September 2016. We first met at a group meeting with our adviser. I was clueless about her personal background back then, but at first glance she reminded me of a quote from famed Chinese painter Chen Danqing: “When I first visited America I realized that everyone looks like they have never suffered any hardship or injustice.” My first impression was that she has a face that looks like that. Small in stature, she strolled into the meeting giddily, backpack in tow, and effortlessly made conversation with everyone.
XJJ: My name is Xiao Ju Ju. I turn 27 this year. I’m a native of Beijing. The first time we met he delivered a spiel about data analysis, which I couldn’t quite follow. Initially I was quite attracted by his appearance. He was wearing a simple polo shirt, khaki pants and a pair of oxfords. His tiny glasses and pale skin made for a standard PhD student look, but not the country bumpkin type, rather the type that’s slightly westernized and petit bourgeois. So at the time I thought this person seems interesting.
LM: Once I gave a demonstration on how to perform a personal credit rating. She thought at the time: “This guy is so good. This is what a real academic should look like.”
XJJ: Just from chatting with him and listening to him break down individual topics I could tell he has a broad knowledge base that covers a wide range of areas. I had never met someone his age who had such a big spectrum of interests. That’s why I took an instant interest in him.
After becoming a disciple of the same adviser, the adviser’s most senior female student told me that I was the only woman who could keep him in check.
I messed with him a bit the third time we crossed paths. Other folks were around. I asked: “Senior, how old are you? How come you don’t have a girlfriend? Is there something wrong with you?”
At the time I did suspect that he might be gay because his wardrobe and appearance were somewhat feminine.
The question left him flabbergasted. He was at a loss as to how to respond. Everyone got a big kick out of it. Later someone told me in private: “We’ve been wanting to ask the same question for years, but no one had the guts to do so. Except for you.” Li Mo also told a dormmate: “I was pinned to the wall by a female junior student today.”
Eventually we started talking more. After completing chores for my adviser, instead of heading back to my dorm, I’d stop by the graduate student office to see what he was up to, ask him if he had any books to recommend.
LM: She used to stop by the office all the time. I thought she had work to do. Eventually she told me that she stopped by because she wanted to talk to me.
XJJ: He was a bit clueless back then. He couldn’t tell I was interested.
In 2017, about a year into my program, I asked a senior female student to test the waters for me. But what she did was say directly: “So and so likes you. Do you like her?” She didn’t allow for any leeway for me to process or ponder.
LM: The night I found out she was interested I couldn’t sleep the entire night. I gave serious thought to the matter of whether we were a good match. I was interested in her too, but first, we had to tackle a major issue—the fact that we grew up in vastly different circumstances.
She comes from a middle-class family in Beijing, whereas I’m from a village in a county classified by the central government as falling below the poverty line. That entails a massive difference in lifestyle. For example, she probably doesn’t pay much attention to price when she shops. She’ll just pay if she thinks it’s a decent product. Meanwhile, I have to mull things over. Is it too expensive? How long will it last?
If we got together, it might lead to many problems. She had zeroed in on me with a certain expectation. If tensions mounted after we started dating or if I caused her any emotional harm, it wasn’t something I could live with. That’s why I didn’t sleep the entire evening, instead contemplating the class issue repeatedly.
XJJ: He looked me up the next day. We made plans to have dinner at a restaurant together. He was hilarious—he actually prepared a cheat sheet for this kind of a discussion with a girl. It was like a contract. It had quite a few rules. I remember the first one was: “If we have a disagreement, we must deal with it in a civil manner, not have a violent argument complete with smashed bowls and dishes.” I think the second one was: “Study hard together.” I can’t remember the rest. I remember thinking to myself: “I haven’t even agreed to become a couple yet. What’s with the contract?”
But I figured he was a bit of an oddball at the outset. This was probably another manifestation. So I was OK with it. Let’s give it a go then, I thought.
After that we chatted every night. Once he furtively grabbed my hand and thus we got together. He never formally confessed his feelings for me. To this day I think it’s something I will lament for the rest of my life. I feel like I missed out on a proper courtship.
Eventually I found out from our conversations that the reason he liked me was because I wasn’t like other girls. By comparison, we were able to make better conversation.
LM: I think my girlfriend is very down-to-earth. For example, when I was reading Seven Pillars of Wisdom (the autobiography that inspired the film Lawrence of Arabia), she wouldn’t say something like that: “You’re so weird. Why do you care about Islam?” When I told her that Islam doesn’t allow charging interest, she actually tracked down a book about Islamic finance to figure out how it worked. I think that’s a very important point.
Of course, when the subject of dating a Beijing woman comes up, people tend to think about the perks of Beijing residency and a major leap in standard of living. But I think that’s far from being relevant. I think the most important thing is whether you have compatible values, whether you have drastically different views about various issues.
2.
XJJ: He confessed at the very beginning of our relationship that he came from a rural village in Henan Province. Initially, even our adviser, who had supervised him for years, was skeptical, let alone me. Maybe it’s because his appearance and dress don’t point in that direction and he’s quite knowledgeable. He’d tell us about the plot his family is farming back home, how the performance of his family’s mushroom crops are a frequent topic of conversation in phone calls with his parents. Only then did I believe he actually grew up in a village. My paternal grandparents are also from a village. My father moved to the city by winning admission to a university in Beijing. At the time I thought: “Rural villages are all the same. They should more or less resemble each other.”
LM: I was born and raised in a small village in Henan. I didn’t leave home until I was 19, to pursue further studies. Our administrative-level village has about 5,000 residents. The main source of income is farming and working in larger cities.
In the early 1990s, it was common for construction sites to owe migrant workers a significant amount of back pay. At the time my uncle worked in a bigger city for about a year but wasn’t paid on time. He came home with a mere 50 yuan (US$8). My aunt was furious and tore up the bills. The whole family was waiting on that cash for Lunar New Year expenses. But even 20 years ago, 50 yuan couldn’t buy much.
When I was in primary schools, snacks were nowhere to be found. If we got hungry, we just grabbed steamed buns. Plain steamed buns don’t have much taste, so I sprinkled them with the condiment packets that came with instant noodles. In retrospect, that was quite a high-sodium diet—not healthy at all.
Now our village is filled with overweight kids. They’re feasting on junk food these days. But back in my time, it was a matter of getting a basic carbs fix. We were still at the stage of achieving basic sustenance. Both my parents and my two elder sisters still live in my home village. They have never lived elsewhere. You could say they eat from the earth.
But my girlfriend is a different story.
I say she comes from an urban middle-class background because both her parents graduated from university in the 1980s. Even though they don’t hold leadership posts, they both have jobs in the establishment. They enjoy a decent income level.
In 2008, when I left my home county to attend university, it was the first time I used a computer. We were tested on our computer skills during first year. Back then I didn’t even know how to use the most basic programs like Excel.
My girlfriend started university in 2010. She found it unfathomable when she came across classmates who didn’t know how to turn on a computer. She thought to herself at the time: “People like this actually exist—folks who don’t even know how to turn on a computer.” She started doing PowerPoint presentations in third grade. Back then I didn’t even know what a computer was.
Yet she doesn’t consider herself middle class compared to her schoolmates. She graduated from Beijing 101 Middle School. Among the parents of her classmates are senior government officials, Tsinghua University professors and fellows of the Chinese Academy of Science. There are also noted businessmen and businesswomen, the kind of people you see on TV. She told me that one of her senior high classmates had already visited several dozen countries. That’s way beyond my imagination. To this day I still haven’t set foot outside China.
XJJ: My class wasn’t one of the top classes, just one of the better-performing ones among the regular classes. I would say we represented the average student at 101. The best students in my class all went abroad for university instead of attending Peking University or Tsinghua. Those who didn’t go abroad for their undergraduate studies did so for graduate school. Out of the 56 students in my class, you could count on one hand those who stayed in China for both undergrad and grad school like myself.
LM: Let me give you an example that illustrates the urban-rural divide. One of my girlfriend’s junior high classmates was a talented singer, but he was quite naughty. Teachers hated him. Eventually the boy pursued undergraduate and graduate studies at a famous university overseas. He’s been singing professionally since graduation. If I had a classmate who enjoyed singing, he would never been able to afford such a quality education. At most he could sing for fun in our village or on the construction site he works at. That’s it.
XJJ: According to him, less than 40 percent of the Chinese population have undergraduate degrees. Whereas my friends mostly attended top-tier universities, even holding Tsinghua and Peking University as the golden standard. It’s hard for me to imagine a kid who grew up in Beijing not going to college—at least I haven’t come across someone like that among my circle of friends. I wasn’t aware of people who didn’t attend university. Only after I met him did I realize that so many people didn’t go to college. In fact, they have fared just fine. It’s just that initially they have to work a bit harder. But not having been exposed to higher education doesn’t mean that your life is destined to suffer. Everyone has their own path to follow.
3.
LM: She went home with me for Lunar New Year in 2019 to meet my parents.
XJJ: He said at the time that city dwellers tend to paint a romantic pastoral vision of rural villages. When I arrived at his home that fantasy was shattered instantly. Chickens scrambled all over their front yard and I stepped on multiple blots of chicken shit the moment I crossed the threshold. What a lovely country smell that was.
In my memory, even my grandmother’s home wasn’t that rundown. Their home comprised three small rooms. The outer walls were all chipped. The rooms were a bit dimly lit. None of the rooms were organized by function. Their family ate and watched TV in the same room. You could tell another room had a fresh coat of paint. His parents had the room painted especially for me, also ordering a custom-made bed and cabinet. These were the only furnishings in the room. I could tell they went out of their way to prepare for my arrival.
And yet I spent less than 24 hours at their home because there wasn’t any heating.
LM: Rural villages don’t have built-in heating. Even though my family installed an air conditioner way in advance, knowing that she was coming from Beijing, it was still too cold. And the timing was awful because the few days she happened to visit were the coldest days of the entire year.
XJJ: I already wore my thickest down jacket on purpose. At their home, I sat on my bed covered in a comforter and an electric blanket. I was also equipped with a plastic pouch filled with hot water. I felt like a hen nesting her eggs. Even turning the air conditioner to the highest temperature didn’t suffice because the walls were so thin. They also didn’t look like they had insulation. It was way too cold, so I suggested to Li Mo we head back to Beijing the next day. I knew it was impolite to leave after spending less than a day there, but at the time I couldn’t take it anymore. It was just too cold.
Eventually we decided to leave, but his parents and two elder sisters took turns trying to talk us out of it. “Stick around for a bit longer. It’s not every day you get to visit,” they said. I feel it was quite poor form on my part. I spent the first two days of Lunar New Year at my parents’ place, so Li Mo was all alone in Beijing. On the third day of the Lunar New Year we went back to his hometown together and yet I started asking to return to Beijing after just a day. He ended up spending less than 24 hours with his own family that year.
That’s why I wanted to return to Beijing alone and let him spend a few more days at home. But his mom insisted that he return to Beijing with me. I was quite confused at the time. “Don’t you miss your own son? Don’t you want him to spend a few more days at home?” I thought to myself at the time. Only later did I find out that his mom thought that if I went back to Beijing alone it would spell the end of our relationship.
I felt the same at the time. I didn’t realize his home would be so rundown, plus I couldn’t understand the local dialect his parent spoke. The barriers to communication were quite significant. For example, everyone knows that changing your train ticket requires certain procedures and that only one change of date is allowed. His parents were clueless about that despite my repeated explanations on my part.
That’s not to mention other differences in lifestyle. His little nephew would openly piss in their courtyard in front of everyone. That led me to wonder: “We grew up in such different environments. Will we really be OK if we live together?”
XJJ: I’m influenced by my parents’ position on the relationship too. They don’t approve. They’ve been strongly opposed since the beginning without letting up at any point.
My dad said: “I’m not looking for you to land a rich husband, nor do I care whether he is a local or not. I just want to make sure his parents have pensions and health insurance, so that you two don’t have to worry too much when they’re old, so that they don’t become a major financial expense. If you marry him, what happens when his parents are elderly?” He has two elder sisters. He is the only son. The traditional expectation in a rural village is for the son to support the entire family. Everyone’s medical and retirement expenses are on him.
My dad also said something that hit me hard. He said: “I’m from a rural village. The first half of my life wasn’t easy. I worked hard most of my life to get where I am today and now you get together with someone from a village. What’s the point of my effort then?” My dad had a bit to drink at the time and was teary eyed. It pained me to see him that way. I felt horrible too.
My mom is from a city, so I asked her: “How come you got together with someone from a village?” My mom said: “The times were different. The urban-rural divide wasn’t as big as it is now. None of us were that well-off. Today is a different story. The gap between you two is so much more significant than the one between your dad and I.” Plus my mom said she still regrets choosing my dad. My maternal grandparents were opposed to the union at the time too.
My mom also said: “Villagers have bad habits. They don’t wash their feet and their towels reek. They also like scratching their feet. When they wash up in the morning, they gargle like a hippo drinking water. Plus they value men over women. Come Lunar New Year it’s always the women cooking. And the women can only eat when the men are done.” My mom eventually stopped cooking for her in-laws when they returned to my dad’s hometown for Lunar New Year. Either they dine out or they don’t go back at all. That’s why my mom regrets her decision. She told me: “Whatever you do, don’t go down my path. Your choice doesn’t even measure up with your dad.”
LM: Another complicating factor is her cousin also married someone from out-of-town.
XJJ: My cousin also grew up in Beijing. Her husband is from a village near Zhangjiakou. Her family was opposed to the marriage at the time too, but she insisted on having her way. Now she regrets the decision. She and her husband have different daily habits and think differently. She can’t get along with her mother-in-law.
Even my cousin’s husband told me: “You must think this through. Now I’m a stranger in my own family, nor am I accepted by my wife’s family.”
With these two examples looming large in my life, it’s hard for me to not have second thoughts.
LM: The more she thought about it, the more she realized our difference in backgrounds was an issue. I could sense her change in mood during our trip back to Beijing. I don’t peek at her WeChat messages as a matter of habit, but I unintentionally saw a message she sent to her cousin that said: “What should I do now?”
My girlfriend used to be mighty determined. She used to think we were destined to be together. After reading the WeChat message I knew things didn’t look out. I thought our relationship was going to take a major turn for the worse.
When we got back to Beijing we ate out together. After seeing her off in her ride and shutting the car door, I broke down in tears, luggage in tow. I felt I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had already tried extremely hard. I treated her very well and we got along very well. Why should we be torn apart on account of my family circumstances? I felt an injustice had been inflicted on me.
Trailed by my suitcase, I cried from the entrance of ICBC headquarters to the entrance of Bank of China headquarters. She must have sensed my shift in mood before we parted. She kept calling but I didn’t answer.
XJJ: I had never seen him that upset. When I got home, I was incredibly sad too. On one hand, I didn’t want to give up someone who shared so many of my values and life goals and someone this interesting. On the other, I felt our family backgrounds were way too different.
LM: I never complained about her parents—not in front of others, not in front of her, not even in my heart. I think it’s perfectly normal for parents to envision a better life for their kids.
Of course I want to win over her parents, but such is the state of our society now. Whether it’s online or chatting with friends, more and more people value the compatibility of family backgrounds in marriage, especially in the past two years. It probably has something to do with the amount of economic growth. Perhaps further back there was a greater degree of social mobility—as long as you worked hard, you were bound to earn a very good standard of living. Social mobility has decreased in the past few years, which is why this kind of thinking is on the rise.
This is the reality of our relationship right now. I even thought about suggesting a pre-nuptial accounting of our assets to mitigate her parents’ worries.
4.
LM: Later we chatted about the matter some more and her resolve stiffened. She told me: “No matter what, regardless of whether my parents agree, I want to be with you.”
XJJ: Neither of us are happy with the families we were born into. I quite dislike my family.
My parents haven’t gotten along since I was a young child. The result is now they don’t communicate unless there is something important to discuss. I think that’s worse than arguing.
As for him, it’s not that he doesn’t like his family, it’s just that he can’t do anything about being born into this particular family. Neither of us had a choice. In the future, we’ll just limit contact with our families and focus on the life we build together. Considering the fact that I can’t get along with his parents and he can’t with mine, we should just have less contact.
Now that I’m about to graduate, it’s better timing for me to try to set up a meeting between him and my dad again. I have to be strategic about it. I want to tell my parents: “I’m going to get married to him anyway. If you don’t want to meet him, then we will just keep putting it off. I’m not getting any younger. I’m already 27. If you’re determined not to meet him, then I’m going to go ahead with registering our marriage. I’m in possession of our family’s household registry booklet anyway.”
LM: I think her parents are gradually coming to terms with the fact that we are definitely going to get married.
I was under immense academic pressure before June 24, 2020. I was worried I wouldn’t graduate from my PhD program. After June 24, my graduation was confirmed. At that point, I started feeling more pressure from daily life. She earns more than I do, even though I have a doctorate degree, and I’m not sure my projected income will even reach half her paycheck.
XJJ: We are renting an apartment together right now. It’s tough when we have to switch flats. It feels like we don’t have any roots. I had never leased an apartment before. Only now can I empathize with the feeling of homelessness that Beijing residents from other places speak of. I feel that way even though Beijing is home. I still want to own my own home, but that’s an unrealistic goal if we rely on our incomes alone without financial help from my family.
I tested the waters the other day, telling him: “Let’s eventually buy a flat.” He actually started crying. Maybe it had something to do with the pressure of graduation. He was a bit fragile emotionally. He thinks he’s poor.
So for now I’m steering clear of the issue of home purchase, but deep down I still want to buy an apartment. Buying a flat would inevitably require help from my family—at that point we won’t be able to avoid dealing with my parents’ attitude toward him. If my parents are willing to chip in, then they are bound to butt in on our relationship.