My life in China, Part 31- Weddings

My wife and I never had a wedding ceremony. Do we regret it? We’ve had this discussion from time to time over the years, and the answer is no, not really. Whether in China or (especially) in the US, they are massive money sinks. I think most people have fond memories of their wedding, but looking back at them, do they feel it was money well spent? I don’t know. The average cost of a Massachusetts wedding is $43,600. For China, it’s about $12k, but with the exchange rate, it is roughly comparable. Dropping $40k on a single-day event seems ridiculous. I’d rather buy a car or, better yet, invest it in the market! What would you rather have 20 years down the road? Foggy memories of a day of fun or roughly $150,000 (7% return after 20 years = $154,787). 

But for us, not having a ceremony wasn’t a financial decision. I discussed a bit about proposing and getting married in China here, but I didn’t go into depth about an actual wedding ceremony. Did we celebrate our union? Yes, in our own way. That winter, we went back to my wife’s hometown, where I met my in-laws and her extended family for the first time (you can read more about that here). We had our big meals of celebration, but no ceremony. Then the summer after we were married, we visited the US for about a month. My sister was pregnant with her first child, so it made sense for us to come back and visit. We were in the US when my nephew was born, which was pretty neat. He’s now turning 16 (which is crazy!). We also had a little reception in my parents’ backyard. It was just a BBQ with friends and family- small, quaint, and perfectly suitable for us. I’ve never been one to make a big stink, especially if the celebration is for me. On the US side, I don’t think anyone complained.

On the China side, we seriously thought about a traditional Chinese wedding, not because we wanted one, but because there was pressure. Ultimately, we decided to forgo it for various reasons, which I will discuss a bit more below. My wife’s parents didn’t care. In many ways, they’re not the stereotypical Chinese parents. Their daughter is the center of the world, but they do not force anything on her. If she’s happy, they’re happy. 

Most of the pressure to have a ceremony came from our peers. I’ve mentioned before that I attended about ten weddings in the two years I lived in China (I honestly lost track). It seemed like everyone was getting married around us: my wife’s roommates, work colleagues, friends, etc., and everyone wanted a foreigner there. It seemed like there was a wedding every month. The big boss of the international teacher group, Mr. Zhang, even invited all of us foreigners to his daughter’s wedding, a lavish affair indeed and a significant bit of face for Mr. Zhang to have all these foreigners in attendance (picture above is from that day). I knew we were there more for entertainment than anything, but I have no shame or regret. Chinese wedding food is damn good, and with face on the line, there was lots of it! However, just as much as they wanted a foreigner in attendance at their weddings, they wanted to be invited to a foreigner’s wedding, even if it was just to see a new thing. Thus, it was a question that we often received at first and then chastised once everyone realized it wasn’t going to happen.   

So why did we decide not to go full out? Well, for one, our families were on opposite sides of the world. It just wouldn’t be feasible for a multitude of reasons, both logistically and financially. If we just had one ceremony in China, for example, much of my family wouldn’t be able to attend and they would have felt left out and vice versa. We also lived in Baoding, and her parents in Wafangdian- a good 10-hour train ride away from each other. If we had it in Baoding, her family would have to travel. If in Wafangdian, our network would need to make the journey. We felt it best that everyone just stayed put. 

Secondly, Guanxi came into play (What’s that? Read more here). Weddings are not just celebrations of marriage in China. There are a lot of strategies involved, and this is the case everywhere. Who do you invite? What do you bring? Who sits next to who? You get the idea. In China, it goes a step further. As is often the case in the US, you don’t register at a store and expect gifts of things. In China, it is purely a financial transaction. You walk into the venue and are met by the bride’s family or friends greeting you with a ledger. You hand over your little red envelope stuffed with cash, and they meticulously enter your name along with the amount of your gift into the log. At the very least, you should provide roughly equivalent to how much a good meal would cost in a restaurant, say 100RMB, or 88 if you want to be particularly auspicious (but at the same time cheap- 8 is a lucky number in China). It should cover the cost of the food and give the bride and groom a bit to pocket. But, if you think you may need a favor down the road, say, for example, your son will get married next month, put a little extra in for good measure and begin the dance of Guanxi.

Say what you will about this tradition, but this is clearly very much a favor debt situation. Whatever amount someone gives, the expectation is that the recipient returns the favor with a slightly more significant amount if invited to a future ceremony. No ceremony? Then you can expect a favor in return of a bit more “value” if the relationship will continue, or roughly the equivalent value if the Guanxi relationship is to end. 

For us, this was dangerous. For one, we didn’t know where we would end up. If we had a wedding and everyone paid and then hurried off to the US, it would have created bad blood. They could have also realized this and paid low, and thus the wedding would cost significantly more than we would get in gifts. Conversely, we were in a uniquely strange position with me being a foreigner with ties to the US. There was always the chance that someone would look to put us in a considerable favor debt- for example, they give us 1000 RMB now, and then ten years down the road, they ask us to help their child get into a US university. It would be insulting for us not to accept the gift, forcing us into playing the Guanxi game. Sound complicated? I’m only scratching the surface here. The Chinese train for life on how to play this game, I had like a year in. I would make a mistake. 

Thirdly, we had the hurdle of traditions. Weddings are just stupidly expensive on the US side, and as you saw from my last post, we were approaching some difficult times, but the ceremony also tends to be religious. I know it doesn’t have to be, but neither of us felt comfortable with any of those aspects. For the reception, there’s music and dancing- something foreign to my wife, and I’ve never been one to shake my tail. It would have been just so awkward for everyone. 

On the Chinese side, along with the complexities I mentioned, the ceremony and reception are pretty much like hazing the bride and groom (more so the groom). Depending on the area of China, there are all sorts of games and feats of strength involved. It’s a lot like Festivus from Seinfeld (funny side note- my wife learned a lot about US culture from that show). When the groom picks up the bride, and before entering the house, you must play what they call door games. These can include- trivia on how much you know the bride, eating spicy, sour, sweet, and disgusting things, and tests of strength and pain tolerance. You exchange money for entrance and then have to search for the bride’s shoe. Once found, the groom carries the bride to the car under a barrage of fireworks. The ceremony itself usually includes a complicated exchange of tea amongst the families and, finally, an exchange of vows. At the reception, it is a whole lot of humiliation, toasting, eating, and drinking- lots and lots of drinking. We’re talking about literal bowels of baijiu, or as I call it, liquid headache. Depending on the area of China and its traditions, a wedding can take up to three days. 

If you read everything above and then throw a foreigner into the mix who could barely speak Chinese, I think you can quickly see why we decided to forgo a wedding ceremony. There was the potential for an international incident in at least half a dozen ways. Ours was never going to be a traditional union, so we said, the heck with tradition!

Lastly, we thought that maybe we could do something way down the road when we settled. Something that both our families could partake in with a bit of a blending of our cultural traditions. It never happened. The longer we were together, the less we felt that we needed that celebration. Our parents did meet, but it was after we had been married for six years. The average length of a marriage in the US is 8.2, so we were already well along in proving that we could make things work even without an official marriage ceremony upon that first meeting (currently, we’re coming up to 17 years in total). We loved each other, and that’s all that mattered in the end. 

That brings me to the topic of my next post, my in-laws’ first adventure to the US, so check back soon!

Cheers!