The "Other"

In 1993 at the impressionable age of 21 I was sitting in a bar in Lan Kwai Fong thinking about returning to the United States after spending a year in China when I met who appeared to me at the time to be the Obi-Wan Kenobi of expatriates. Mr. Kenobi had spent the better part of 30 years living and working in East Asia and he had a lot of good stories to tell. He even had a British accent like Alec Guinness.

We had a few beers together, he regaled me with his wisdom and I told him about living in Mainland China – a place he had not visited. At the end of our talk, he turned to me and said, “It sounds to me as if you are about to embark on the kind of life that I have had; you are going to have a wonderful adventure. But let me give you a piece of advice…”

Dear readers, I waited with baited breath for this great Jedi Master to impart on me secrets of the Force. What was this one last thing he wanted me to know? And then he said; “One of the most important things you should remember is: never marry a white woman.”

Somewhere across Cyberspace a bunch of guys are laughing if their wives or girlfriends are not in the room while others just called their spouse over to read this. Now, before I lose a certain demographic of readers of this blog, I implore you to please read on as I gallop through the minefield of the topic of interracial dating & marriage.

I’ve always remembered Mr. Kenobi’s advice, mostly because it’s a pretty interesting story to tell. But also because I think I understand where he’s coming from. First, let me interject this: when it comes to love, never say never! In this sense, his advice was really pretty bad.

If you live on the other side of the world for half your adult life it’s pretty hard to avoid dating someone from a different race. I have dated a few Chinese girls, so I’m talking from experience. I also date Western women when they bother to give me the time of day. I have no strong preference either way; if anything I just really like any smart, good-looking woman that happens to also like me. I’m funny that way.

It is only recently that I have come up with a theory on interracial romance. I’m no scientist, but here it goes. What if somewhere in our brains we are hardwired to be attracted to the "other” – someone of a different race, or different hair color and skin tone, or even just someone with a cool foreign accent? The biological argument would be that somehow our bodies know that it’s good to have a deep and rich gene pool.

Early man and woman must have realized that having kids with their siblings and cousins didn’t produce good stock. After all, no one likes a hunchback. So maybe they learned that intermingling with other tribes was a good thing. Unfortunately in early history it was expressed in bouts of raping and pillaging as opposed to speed dating.

I think most everyone can admit the idea of being with someone from a different culture, race, etc. is somewhat attractive. The "other” is mysterious, and that can be titillating, no? I think this is why “gentlemen prefer blondes” and “blondes have more fun”; in North America they are comparatively rare. I bet blondes in Sweden and Switzerland don’t have any more fun than anyone else.

Another argument that suggests we might be somewhat hardwired to be attracted to the "other” is that I notice that people tend to go gaga over kids from a different race. Kids are cute anyway, but in my experience it gets stepped up a notch when people from one race look at kids of another. Of course maybe this is only my perception, but I have discussed this with friends of many colors, and we tend to be in agreement. And, I also think Gary Coleman owes his career to this phenomenon.

But of course there are problems. We are also conditioned by our societies not to trust “the other”; someone who is different than us could be “bad” or “undesirable” for any number of reasons. I mostly chalk all that up to flat out bigotry and jealousy; and I have no time for anyone who thinks like that.

In the end, we can’t help whom we fall in love with, it just happens. But jumping across some imaginary line and being with the "other” can be quite appealing; whether you are a Montague or Capulet, Yankee fan or Red Sox fan, cat person or dog person, or one race or another.

Either/Or

From time to time the author leaves China, sometimes he goes home for Christmas, other times he travels the world looking for romance, wisdom and a really nice beach. I remember having one of the best conversations I’ve ever had with a woman in a restaurant in Jakarta. I will pass on the fruit of this conversation to you. Those of you who are single can use it on your next date, those of you in a relationship may want to think twice; the author is not responsible for ruining any relationships other than his own.

First some background, although my new lady friend had recently moved to Indonesia she previously lived in Beijing and a mutual friend introduced us, so we had something in common. The woman in question, who I shall call Regine for literary reasons, is a tall blond with long legs who looks great in a miniskirt; she also has a fantastic… brain. Seriously, the woman is sharp! And I like that. I’ve never been overly attracted to bubble headed bimbos, I’ve ogled a great number of them in my time, and will continue to do so, but they are not what sets my heart on fire. For the record, I prefer a nice ass piloted by world-class gray matter.

So we were having one of those ‘get to know you’ conversations. We discussed living in China and Indonesia, our childhoods, and we discussed torture a fair bit. Regine worked in the field of Human Rights and legal reform, so she was a bit of an expert. I, on the other hand, have delusions of grandeur about writing suspense novels, so the subject had mutual interest. For the record, we are both against torture for anything other than a good plot device, but light spanking on any occasion was not entirely ruled out either.

Anyway, the first hour or so of the evening passed quickly, the conversation was stimulating, the food and drink were good, and we enjoyed each other’s company. But we were starting to run out of things to say, when one or both of us came up with an idea for a game. I really can’t recall how it originated, my apologies to Regine if it was totally her idea.

I’ll call this game ‘Either/Or’. It has nothing to do with the book of the same name by the Danish existentialist Søren Kierkegaard, although the chapter ‘Diary of a Seducer’ is at least a little relevant. By the way, Søren had the hots for some young woman named Regine Olsen, and that’s the origin of my friend’s pseudonym.

The game is played by asking a series of questions with only two possible answers, the person answering the question must pick ONLY ONE of the offered answers. It’s usually more interesting if you explain your answer.

For example; “Who is better, the Beatles or the Rolling Stones?” If I recall correctly, I answered the Beatles because I love their lyrics and musically they extended themselves further than the Stones. We discussed how the Stones had better guitar rifts and were better party music.

Another question was, “Where would you prefer to vacation, at the beach or in the mountains?” I am a confirmed beach person, lots of good books, an endless supply of cold beer and a sunny beach is my idea of paradise. Regine, I was surprised to find out, preferred the mountains. I remember coming to the conclusion that almost all mountain people are very active and sporty vacationers, they want to hike and rock climb, etc. I think beach people on the other hand tend to be lazier. This is valuable information when men and women are considering each other.

By the way, I believe Regine has the metabolism of a humming bird on crack, she is constantly on the move, she works hard and plays even harder. In stature and behavior I’m probably more like a grizzly; large appetites and bursts of activity heavily punctuated by cozy sloth.

I’ll give one more interesting example from the game, I asked “Who do you prefer, Humphrey Bogart or Cary Grant?” For women, this question is which guy (screen persona) do you want to be with? And for men, “which of the two do you want to be?” She said Bogart and I said Grant. Here’s why; we both agreed Bogey is cooler, and he’s a tough guy. But Bogey is usually a dark, brooding, remorseful man who lets the girl get away (e.g. Casablanca and The Maltese Falcon). I’d rather be Grant, star in more romantic comedies and bag Grace Kelly (To Catch a Thief), though I’d prefer to be slightly less metrosexual.

We played this for an hour or two and had great fun, especially when our answers surprised each other. We quickly discovered the two of us have a lot in common and got to know each other as well as a guy and girl can over one dinner. I suspect the danger of the game, if there is one, is that you can very quickly learn if you have no earthly reason to be with the other person, and that can make for a short evening.

For example, I won’t be with a girl who doesn’t like dogs. For that matter, the more cats she has the more likely I think she’s probably an ax murderer. I guess this leads me to the conclusion that if Jessica Alba was as dumb as a box of rocks and had 5 cats I wouldn’t even consider dating her; well… maybe.

Please enjoy the game; I hope it works out well for you.