Bravely Pursuing Happiness

I met my husband Benchang at my uncle-by-marriage’s shop. He passed me a note saying he wanted to be friends with me, and my uncle-by-marriage was in favour too, because he looked honest, was tall, and handsome—square face, large ears, the type old people admire most.

But Eldest Sister, Father, and many relatives were against it, solely because he was a mainlander—and a soldier. In the 1950s, not long after the 228 Incident, Taiwanese people strongly opposed their daughters marrying mainlanders.

In those days girls in a conservative society could not casually take boyfriends; people would look down on you, so my uncle-by-marriage’s approval alone was useless. I went to ask Grandmother’s opinion (in the photo on the previous page). Grandmother said: ‘I have not seen the person; I cannot give an opinion.’ What was I to do?

One afternoon I deliberately took Grandmother to my grandfather’s sister-in-law’s house on Zhongzheng Road in Lukang, because every evening after dinner my husband and his three classmates from the radar school always passed her door. When the time came and they were almost at the door, I hid behind it and pointed them out to the two elders, telling them which of the four he was, and asked whether they thought this young man was acceptable. Both elders were very pleased after looking, and so our courtship passed the elders’ hurdle.

Next came Great Aunt. Great Aunt said: ‘I have not seen him; I have no grounds to speak.’ I had to discuss with Great Aunt and arrange a time for them to meet. She suggested Qingming, when we would eat spring rolls at her old home next to the Fuxing police station on Zhongzheng Road. After meeting him she admired him too, mainly because he seemed honest and straightforward and answered her questions truthfully. In fact a Miss Wu beside us helped translate (Miss Wu was the accountant at my uncle-by-marriage’s shop); otherwise, with both sides unable to speak each other’s language, communication would have been very hard.

Father and Eldest Sister were still very angry. Eldest Sister, already married, scolded the elders: ‘The little girl does not understand—why are you joining in the fuss?’ and took me to her home in Taichung and would not let me return. Before leaving I secretly gave Miss Wu my sister’s address. At the time Miss Wu was also someone my husband and his friends wanted to pursue.

At Eldest Sister’s house she gave me a one-mace-weight ring and told me to give up the idea of marrying a mainlander. Eldest Sister said: ‘They say mainland men marry early—what if he already has a wife on the mainland? You had better listen and marry a local man. If you change your mind and marry a Taiwanese, at your wedding I will give you a full set of gold necklace, rings, earrings, and bracelet. For now stay at my house and do not go back to Lukang; in time he will give up.’

I dared say nothing and had to stay.

One day I received a letter from Miss Wu. It said: ‘Since you left Lukang he has been unable to work, listless every day. He misses you very much—can you find a way to come back? Your uncle-by-marriage asked me to tell you this.’ Eldest Sister received the letter and flew into a rage, scolding me: ‘Why did you give him our address? If he turns up at my house and causes trouble, how can I face my husband’s family?’

After the scolding I cried secretly at night, thinking of Miss Wu’s words, tossing and unable to sleep, wondering whether I should persuade Eldest Sister to let me go back.

Eldest Sister was afraid my husband would appear at her address and the scene would be unbearable. When I discussed with her whether I could return to Lukang to ask Miss Wu and my uncle-by-marriage, she reluctantly agreed. So I left Taichung and went back to Lukang.

Back in Lukang I went first to my uncle-by-marriage’s shop and talked deeply with Miss Wu before going home.

When Father saw me return he asked: ‘How are you going to handle things with him? I will not agree.’ Wanting to be with my husband, I had given up a job making clothes and now moped at home all day. Father saw it and felt sorry for me.

One day Father said to me: ‘Find that Miss Wu and ask him to set a time to come to the house and talk properly.’

I was secretly delighted.

Father’s workplace then was at Dingfanpo, a village more than an hour’s walk from Lukang, where he served as a policeman at the local station.

Unlike today, you could not settle things with one phone call; people usually walked. So for Father’s errand I had to set out early the next morning to my uncle-by-marriage’s shop to discuss with Miss Wu. Miss Wu then went to his unit to consult him and his classmates and fix a time to come to our home to see Father.

To make things easier they asked a local-born sergeant in the unit, Mr Huang Qimiao, to accompany them. They talked happily for more than an hour, but once they came to the main point Father told him: ‘If you can produce twenty thousand yuan as betrothal gift, I will agree to the marriage.’

Hearing Father’s condition he was stunned. He said to Father: ‘My income with allowances is only one hundred and twenty yuan a month; I cannot pay that much—Uncle, can you forgive me?’ At the time one mace of gold was only forty-two yuan, a jin of beef four yuan, and a banquet table generally ninety or one hundred yuan, at most one hundred and twenty. Twenty thousand yuan! It was terrifying.

While they talked with Father, the girl had to stay out of the room. Only after they left did I learn Father had opened his mouth wide like a lion, hoping he would retreat in the face of difficulty—he never intended to agree to the match. Mr Huang Qimiao who came with him also spoke many good words on his behalf, but because Father held firm they parted unhappily.

Back at the unit everyone crowded round asking the result. Mr Huang answered for him and stated Father’s condition, because he was too upset to speak.

They discussed a long time and finally went to the squad leader for help. At first the squad leader did not know what to do either; then he remembered Father was a policeman in Lukang’s district, and thought the Lukang station chief was the squad leader’s fellow townsman from Fuzhou—asking him ought to work.

So the warm-hearted squad leader, off duty, invited the station chief to dinner. After listening carefully the station chief said: ‘If this marriage succeeds it may help the provincial rift in Taiwan a little. All right—I will persuade Mr Tsai.’

He arranged to meet Father. His first question was: ‘What is your view of mainlanders? Do you dislike them or object to them?’

Father could hardly speak the truth.

The station chief went on: ‘Your daughter and a young staff sergeant in the radar unit are very close—I hear you refuse to let her marry him because you dislike mainlanders? In fact there are good and bad people on both sides. I have talked with this young man too; he is honest and steady. Agree to him.’

The station chief said many good things; in the end Father truly had no excuse left and agreed to the marriage.

Father came home in the afternoon. He called me over and said: ‘The marriage is agreed. Hereafter it is your own fate—you must not come back to complain however hard it gets; you must take responsibility yourself and not blame me for not caring.’ When he finished he left my side looking very sad. Seeing Father’s expression I could only say silently to him: ‘I am sorry to have worried you.’

Then we began to discuss engagement and wedding arrangements.

My husband, his classmates, and Mr Huang Qimiao went together to my uncle-by-marriage to work out every detail. My uncle-by-marriage asked Father: ‘What do you want—make a list and it will be done.’ Father said helplessly: ‘Never mind—just one hundred and fifty boxes of wedding cakes for relatives and friends; nothing else.’ My uncle-by-marriage passed this to Mr Huang to report to the squad leader. People in the unit and many dependants were delighted; everyone congratulated my husband.

The engagement went very smoothly, but there was a small episode: my sixth uncle-by-marriage said to Father: ‘Second Brother, you are marrying your daughter to a mainlander? I say it will last a year at most. If it lasts three years I, Lin, will cut off my ears and give them to you for casting divination blocks.’ Father smiled and said: ‘Good—I will have her remember your words.’ Sixth uncle-by-marriage said no more.

After the engagement came choosing the wedding day. The engagement day was still three weeks before the first day of the seventh lunar month; custom forbids weddings in the seventh month, so my uncle-by-marriage suggested waiting until after the eighth lunar month to pick an auspicious day.

But my husband, his classmates, and the squad leader feared that if they waited too long Father might change his mind. After calculating back and forth they fixed the date on the twenty-ninth day of the sixth lunar month (the day before the seventh month’s first day)—14 August on the Gregorian calendar, Air Force Day—for our wedding.