Love
in Taiwan
By Cahleen
Hudson
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The students are shyly glancing at each
other out of the corners of their eyes; not yet comfortable enough to utter
a greeting, but certainly curious. Nagging doubts are arising in their
minds, seeding and multiplying to create a labyrinth of worries and fears.
Anxiety is exhaled with every shallow breath, making the air rich with
a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.
This is the atmosphere in the classroom
on the first day of class. The teacher enters the room. She's young, but
confident. She has to be, or else the students will believe that her age
is an indicator of incompetence. Now their curiosity has shifted from the
other students to this young female standing before them. Has she even
graduated from college yet? But then again, she does wear a wedding ring.
In that case, she must be at least thirty. Everyone relaxes a little, happy
to have solved the mystery. Class begins, and everyone is gradually drawn
in to the game of getting to know one another while speaking a language
they aren't familiar with.
They begin to get to know the teacher,
too. Then some brave soul finally asks the inevitable question. "Teacher,
how old are you?" the student asks. "I'm twenty-three," replies the teacher.
The room falls silent. "And you're married?" asks another student. "Yes,"
the teacher says. More silence. Then someone says, "So ... you have a baby,
right?"
I don't know how many times I've
answered that question on the first day of one of my English classes in
Taiwan. It is unfathomable to them that someone would want to get married
at the tender age of twenty-three. Granted, I know that my life is unfathomable
to most Americans as well. I graduated from college in 2006 at the age
of twenty-two.
Then, one month later, I married
my college sweetheart. A month after that, we moved to Taiwan to teach
English and make a life for ourselves. However, my choices seem especially
bizarre to my Taiwanese students. Many of them are college graduates who
have never dated before, and the ones who are married did so at the age
of thirty after ten years of dating the same person. They assume that the
only reason someone would get married at my young age is because of an
unexpected pregnancy (which, for the record, is a situation that I've never
found myself in).
This got me pondering the cultural
differences concerning the idea of romantic love. Do Taiwanese people enter
the world of romance later because they're afraid of it, or is it just
not that high of a priority? How do people in Taiwan see love -- as necessary
as the air we breathe, as a luxury for people with too much time on their
hands, or as something in between? I am by no means an expert, but I'd
like to share with you what I've learned so far.
Taiwanese people value practicality.
This does not mean that they are unfeeling or unromantic, it just means
that they seek security in their lives. For example, a typical ESL conversation
starter is, "Which is more important to you, love or money?" In every class
I've ever taught in the past year, the overwhelming majority of the class
will always say money is more important. The answer used to shock me. When
I probed the students as to the reason for their "cold" response, they
usually said something along the lines of, "What good is love when you
don't have food in your stomach?" Can you get any more practical than that?
They always think I'm equally weird for choosing love.
Another "practical" answer that I'm
often given is in response to my question of, "Why do you wait so long
before you get married?" It's usually because they want to get ahead in
their careers first, or sometimes because of some family obligation. And
often my students that are married speak rather dispassionately (in my
opinion) about their spouses. I rarely hear, "Wow, I am so in love with
my husband." Instead, I often hear, "My husband isn't bad." This used to
leave me wondering where the passionate, earth-shattering romance was in
this country.
But even as I write that last line,
I see how it's colored by my western arrogance. No one will ever convince
me that money is more important than love, but I am now at least able to
understand why many people in the world, outside of movies, would choose
food and shelter over romance. And I've grown enough to realize that a
tendency to "worship" romance is not necessarily something to be praised.
There are other kinds of love, and additionally, there are many admirable
things about Taiwanese culture that are lacking in my culture -- diligence,
patience, respect for ones parents, and more. Who am I to say that romance
trumps them all?
When one grows up as close to Hollywood
as I have, it's easy to believe that American culture is the sole definer
of romantic love. Then again, look what usually happens to those Hollywood
romances. Maybe the reason why those relationships didn't work out is because
they always expected it to be "earth-shattering," when in reality, they
should have carefully laid the foundation first. Many of my students would
have told them that there's something to be said for patience. Others would
have said, "They probably only got married because there was a baby."
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