How Shanghai's women laboriously search for a husband
On the table in front of her lie: an ID card, a payroll and a hukou, the residence permit for the city of Shanghai. Wenjing Li looks at all the papers, then pushes them across the table, fingers spread, back to the young man across from her. Wenjing smiles sheepishly. "Not necessary, I believe you too." Wenjing Li is 26 years old, wears yellow hotpants and silver high heels, and this is her first date with Weidi, her parents' next son. The disappointment has already written after the starter - marinated chicken feet and pumpkin pickles - in her pretty face. A date could not be more unromantic. Not because of the certificates; but Weidi did not make her laugh once, she complains afterwards: "He has talked so little and then this hairstyle!" After all, he wants to contractually assure that he will take no mistress in the case of marriage, he has told her, and that's what it benefits him. But that is not enough for Wenjing. A bit, a tiny bit of tingling would have been enough for her. "Is that too much?"
"I have the ideal man for you!" Her mother had shouted into the phone a few days earlier. "Government employee, born in '84, serious intentions, good family, parents even want to buy you a flat." Wenjing had thought for a moment. Having her own apartment, that sounded good, then she would not have to move to his parents, as is often the case with young couples in China. In addition, civil servants enjoy high social prestige, they are considered educated and conscientious husbands because their career is closely linked to the marital status: no wife, no promotion. In addition, there is a secure income, health and pension insurance and numerous social benefits, in short: a good life in the middle to upper social class. Wenjing promised a meeting.
Love in the shadow of the skyscrapers of Pudong, the financial center of Shanghai.
Wenjing is a typical big-city Chinese: young, modern, fluent in English, well-educated, with many friends, a cell phone with climate trailers and a well-paid job as a Chinese teacher in an international language school. But the right man is missing. "During my studies, my parents prohibited me from dating men," she says. "After that I should focus on the career and now?" She puckers her lips to the pout. "Where should I conjure a man? I work late and my colleagues are all women."
Her biggest fear is ending up as "Sheng Nu". Literally translated means: leftover woman. Freely translated: old maid. Women around 30, self-confident, successful and financially independent. A kind of Carrie Bradshaw in Chinese - that's what you would call a great woman. Their numbers are growing; 500,000 unmarried women over 25 live in Beijing; in the 19 million metropolis of Shanghai, the figure is almost twice as high. In no other city in China do more women occupy leading positions in the economy or start their own businesses. But the more successful a woman is, the harder she finds a man. Because hardly a Chinese would marry a woman who earns more, drives a more expensive car that is older, taller or otherwise superior to him. "Gates and windows must correspond," is a saying.
Wenjing Li, 26, dreams of a man who is educated, has a good job, has his own apartment - and possibly even causes a little tingling in her.
Wenjing says, "I want more from life than my mother has, I want the best, and that's why I want the best possible man." A man from Shanghai, educated, good looking, non-smoker, sincere, secure job, good income, own apartment, assertive, socially recognized, animal-loving and also fond of children. In addition, he should cause at least a little tingling in the stomach.
By coincidence or eye contact in the subway or in the café you can not find such men in China. Very few Chinese people simply flirt on the street with strange women, and if one dares, he would be out of the question for Wenjing. "Anyone who shows interest in me without having background information about me can not be serious." In addition to family or friends, professional agencies are increasingly helping with dating. Especially on the internet. 140 million Chinese people, iResearch estimates, are currently looking for a partner there. There are partner agencies for millionaires and for overseas Chinese returned. And virtual "Date Doctors" who give tips from styling to flirting and, if necessary, work out exciting Date-Smalltalk topics for the first meeting. Wenjing's last relationship has given her a girlfriend. She held because of "cultural differences" only a year."That's what you get when you get into the outskirts of Shanghainese across the river," she says. "He wanted me to stay home all day and take over the household!"
Forever: buy castle, lock up, throw away keys - in China, a love ritual.
Now that the situation is rushing because Wenjing is approaching 30, her mother takes over. Better safe than sorry. For this she turns on the public marriage market on Saturdays and holds up a photo and her daughter's profile. If that does not help, she will confidently place Wenjing's fate in the hands of "Aunt Fan."
Former teacher Fan Benliang organizes a well-known dating salon in a teahouse in Shanghai-Pudong on Saturdays, which works on very pragmatic rules: punctually at three o'clock the unmarried applicants stand in line and then individually enter a small stage to introduce themselves , Anyone who is interested in the candidate, announces his request to Fan Benliang, which arranges then a spontaneous mini-date. After five minutes both forgive each other for their points. On the basis of the point cards Aunt Fan tries later, matching puzzle pieces together - for a real date. There are currently 1,100 female applicants on her pile of women, of whom only 400 are male. "Women are too picky," complains Ms. Fan. "They only want A-grade men with the best education and high social status, but they take care of themselves Too long only for a career, then they will panic at the end of 20. But the AKlasse men do not want old women, but young and as pretty as possible. " In four years, with her help, there were only ten marriages. Nevertheless, her salon is full every Saturday.
Looking for: Weiwei Zhang, 25, has been presented to seven men without success.
Weiwei Zhang, 25, quit her job as a PR consultant a few months ago, and is now focusing on the men's hunt. It's pretty much the kind of guy Chinese men are dreaming of: fragile figure, porcelain touch, narrow chin, big eyes with eyelid crease - a status symbol for which many women place themselves under the knife of cosmetic surgeons. Defiant she is alone. She is sucking on an Evian-Import water bottle, she has a Louis Vuitton bag in her lap. "I've already been introduced to seven men," she sighs. "It's pretty tiring." She fanning air from the air conditioner with her hand.
To understand what Weiwei Zhang is going through, you have to know the scene setup of the Chinese dome theater. First Act: non-binding introductions in the group at dinner, karaoke singing and the like. With good performance, mutual interest and the following SMS contact, a date for two takes place. If hard facts, such as a residence permit for Shanghai, come on the table, so much the better. When the man gets down to it, sends three to ten text messages per day, gets small attentions (earrings, favorite chocolate) and "cares", as Weiwei calls it, the so-called Ai-Mei phase begins, literally: the no Love phase - a gray area between flirtation, friendship and love relationship without obligations. Only after intensive examination does the third act begin: the actual relationship.
Weiwei did not meet any of the seven men until the last act. She wraps a strand of hair around her finger and lowers the already quiet voice. "Right now I'm working on number eight, that could be a direct hit." The friend of a colleague has her own textile company in Italy, but now wants to return to Shanghai and marry. He is 33, small, not very attractive, but wealthy. "Exactly as a fortune-teller predicted to me," says Weiwei, beaming. She is not even in love with him. "Love," says Weiwei, "is luxury, not a necessity." She believes in fate - and in the expressiveness of Louis Vuitton bags. "He is very generous," she says. "Better howling in a BMW than laughing on a bike": The slogan is popular among young Chinese women, they wear it on their T-shirts. In the spring, Weiwei's number eight from Italy came to Shanghai for four weeks to meet her and her parents. "We saw each other every day," says Weiwei proudly. But something must have gone wrong. "He just left and said he was not ready to marry." Since then, they often talk on the phone. "I will not give up, it has to work."
Left: Ruby Ding, 40, divorced, has the stress of dating behind her.
Ruby Ding has been waiting in vain for ten years. The 40-year-old director of an international private kindergarten in Shanghai moved to Shenzhen in the early 20's to earn a career in the hospitality industry. There she met her great love, a Swiss. She hoped for a marriage proposal that never came. During these years she was downright terrorized: "From my parents, friends, from all," says Ruby. "They made me feel that something was wrong with me, I should go to the psychiatrist, I'm sick in the head." Over 30 and still single, that's just not possible in China. Ruby moved to Shanghai, bought real estate and continued his education.But her family increased the pressure, and at 34 she finally gave in and married a Chinese government employee. She was eight years older than him, but she could hide that from her parents-in-law.
Divorce: This is done here in one day and costs 1.20 euros.
Peace did not come in through the marriage. "The accident really started," says Ruby. Business trips, drinking bouts - after four years Ruby divorced, that goes in China in one day and costs 1.20 euros. "Since then," she says, "I feel free." As a divorced 40-year-old she is more respected than as a single 30-year-old. Divorce is no blemish, the divorce rate is in Shanghai with 39 percent on par with the German average. "In retrospect, divorce was the best thing that could happen to me," says Ruby. "No one is trying to match me, no one is pushing me anymore, I've done this job already." Two years ago, Ruby, who exudes a Shanghai-atypical inner peace, met Michael on a business trip. The German, 15 years older, sat next to her in the plane. Previously, he had lost his job as an investment banker. A penniless alien, then. Again a society staff. But this time she does not care. "I'm too old to be prescriptive," says Ruby, "the social pressure is gone, that's true luck."
