Language of Love - 4. Chapter 4: "Breaking awkwardness without saying a word"

Chapter 4: “Breaking awkwardness without saying a word”

As I approached him, I kept an eye on the camera crew several feet away. On closer inspection, I realized the truth; they were college students. I saw the crimson logo of a well-known university. I doubt they would be interested in the romantic encounter between two Chinese boys, but probably were meeting up to do a shoot in the financial district three blocks away. My city’s Chinatown borders three main areas: the financial district to the north and east, the theatre district towards the south, and our public park in the west.

His eyes caught sight of me for the first time. I can only imagine what was running through his mind at that moment: “He’s several pounds heavier than he looked in that picture”, “I thought he liked to wear jeans”, or “Where is his cute puppy?” Yes, I freely admit to picking and choosing my personal pictures with some of them going back to age 19. I was skinnier back in college after losing the freshman fifteen. Despite how much we all say that looks don’t matter, let me be honest with everyone; we’re all secretly vane bastards. At least, I freely admit to having vanity and I try to work my way out of it.

He waved a hand in the air to signal to me, I waved back nonchalantly as I continued to approach him. When we were close enough, I offered a soft “hello”. He nodded his head and we began to walk down the street. Chinatown was busy with people, trucks unloading, and cussing drivers, yelling at the Chinese trucks for double parking. The world was filled with noise, but we remained silent.

I feared as much, when I learned his English was poor and I knew I couldn’t manage a conversation in mandarin. I could attempt to speak to him in English again, but it would be adding tension, not releasing it. We were nearing the end of Chinatown’s western border street, where a massive Hilton Hotel was situated. We had reached an impasse, if neither of us could actually speak to one another; this would not last to dinner.

I placed my hand in my pocket and took out my cell phone again. I opened my message app and started typing. A buzzing noise came out of his pocket and I saw him unlocking his iPhone.

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Me: Sorry we can’t talk to one another, but I hope this works

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He stared at me and laughed. I think he was laughing at the absurd situation that we were in, but he began to type a reply.

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Him: Yes, I am sorry, too

Me: We both knew speaking would be hard

Him: Yes, but I did not feel like it

Me: Problem with feelings is that they don’t really exist

Him: Why?

Me: A feeling is just an idea without ever seeing reality

Me: Until you try to apply the feeling as an act, you will not know if it works

Him: Oh, you are very practiced in this

Me: No, I just understand practical stuff

Him: You sound like my ba ba

Me: Sorry

Him: No, it’s good

Him: I thought that we shared interests

Him: That might make this easier

Me: Sharing interests is only one part of any relationship

Me: We can’t pretend to be the 4^th prince and Ruoxi

Me: Well, at least I am not

Him: Ha, I agree

Him: I do not feel like a dress would suit either of us

Me: Well, I would be too big to fit into any decent ones, but you might be a size 4

Him: Excuse me

Me: If you really wanted to be Ruoxi

Him: No, I am not a Na

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We both laughed at each other for those comments. Texting was a good go between for us; at least now, we can communicate in real time and in face time.

His comment about “Na” is equivalent in Chinese to saying that he was not a “Fem” or is not feminine acting. It’s a modern concept that has been tied to homosexuality. Chinese opponents towards homosexuality point to this idea as a weakening of society, i.e. a feminization of Chinese peoples. Unlike the western argument based on religion and scripture, Chinese arguments against homosexuality stem from a perception of weakness that homosexuals bring to society.

As we crossed the road into the open public park, I pondered about his answer and wanted to know something.

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Me: Are you gay?

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We stopped on the cement pathway within the park, under an old oak tree. A shirtless runner passed us by, but neither I nor he paid heed to the eye candy. I could tell he was thinking deeply on how to answer my question. If he was just curious, I’d probably just keep this as a friendship and nothing more. I don’t want to be someone’s stepping stone, nor a play thing either. We stood there motionless for a bit. Then, we took seats on the grass next to the oak tree. I just enjoyed the summer air and the sights of the park: grass, hot dogs, fried dough, dogs, and squirrels.

At last, he took out his phone and typed. I turned on my phone:

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Him: I guess I am

Me: You guess

Him: Yes

Me: Do you like boys?

Him: Yes

Me: Do you like girls?

Him: Friends

Me: then you are gay, not guess

Him: Complicated

Me: Are you an only son in line?

Him: Yes

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I get there are complications, family obligations. Chinese tradition holds that you need to keep the line going and maintain the integrity of the family. I understand his situation, because I am part of the same group within the family line, the only son or male heir to the line of our families. Being gay is one thing; disrupting or destroying your family’s integrity is another.

Western societies probably will consider the idea sexist, crude, or many other derogatory terms, but the Chinese family for three thousand years has been centered on the male line of descendants. When your father dies, you are expected to carry the family’s name and its ancestors forward. You are the living representation of all those, who came before you and built the family name, its bloodline, and history. Being gay is not the endgame problem; Chinese tradition allows you to adopt boys from other families into the line, if the child accepts that he is carrying on the entire lineage of the new family and the male heir cannot conceive a son. The problem exists in blended lineages. You can’t combine two Chinese families with a “-“, like a marriage certificate. In addition to tradition, there’s also a lot of property, money, and assets in play. I stand to inherit the family lands in China, if my grandfather, dad, and elder uncle were to die. I don’t care for that family inheritance or family pressure to find a wife, so it is not a big deal to me. If I do not fulfill my obligations to the family, the property is forfeit. He probably has it worse, if his father is either a “Party” politician or a wealthy businessman; he’s expected to hold even more weight on his shoulders.

I felt really bad for him and I gazed at his boyish face and small frame. He might not be my ideal man, but I could feel a connection with him and understand the problems that he faced. I wanted to change the subject at least to give us both room to relax.

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Me: What do you do for fun?

Him: I like music

Me: What kind?

Him: American, Canto, and Mandarin

Me: What genre?

Him: Like classic music, Leslie Cheung of the four heavenly kings

Me: That’s very old

Him: Yes

Me: How about American music?

Him: Hey Monday is my favorite

Me: Okay, at least your American musical taste are not fossilized

Him: How about you?

Me: Yellowcard is my favorite, along with All Time Low and Mayday

Him: You are in 2009!

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We spent most of the afternoon chatting about music, pop culture, and other topics that had no depth. We even went on Youtube and played out our favorite songs to each other. I didn’t want to approach the thousand pound elephant, nor did he. As we spoke, I fished out my solar battery from my pocket for my cell phone. While I may not be as green as many other people, I still believe in using free energy and kept a micro-charging cable with me just in case.

By 6:08 PM, we had both exhausted most of our phone’s battery life, we both understood it was time for dinner. As we stood up and walked together, we stood closer than before. Our hands were bouncing off each other, but neither of us dared to touch.