SINGLEDOM IS DEAD! LONG LIVE SINGLEDOM!

I would like to say that I love the sensation of falling for another human being but I’m not sure I’m familiar with it. I’ve never been this girl falling for that boy before. In that I have all the typical flu-like symptoms of a spinny head, butterflies in my stomach and the shakes, I’m just like every woman who has ever fallen in love. However, unlike my normal self, I don’t have the flu like symptoms when he’s around. When he’s around, my world is crystalline, still and comfortable. There is no sensation of desperation or frantic need to accomplish anything. What goes through my head is not "Kiss me now. Now!" but rather, "God, I would love if he kissed me right now but I think I could stay here, just talking, forever." I never knew I liked my life as much as I do when I’m with him.

Our date started at 6 on Saturday night (12/23) and he walked me home at 1:30 this morning. There was dinner, laughing, confusion, karaoke and general fun hanging out shenanigans. He managed the bulk of the conversation in a language he hasn’t used in 5 years. He was polite, wonderful, open, honest and generous and generally took care of me.

I called him about 15 minutes before we were supposed to meet because I was supposed to make sure he didn’t forget again and he was already waiting for me. (I could hear the street traffic below my window echoing from his mobile.) I went outside, met up with him, gave him a birthday card as Christmas is his birthday and we went to the gym where he works part time. We sat down on one of the couches and he immediately popped up to get me a glass of water. Considering that we live in a desert area, making sure someone has water is second only to making sure someone has food in terms of caring for them. We talked for a bit and he was clearly nervous about trying to communicate with me. At first, he didn’t say much so I decided to make an ass of myself with my terrifically bad Mandarin. After all, when all else fails around nervous students, I’ve learned to show them just how much of an ass I’m willing to be and things always get a lot smoother super fast. So I did and they did.

Bless his heart, he claimed to be impressed with my grasp of Mandarin but not surprisingly, was very soon comfortable using his English. We got to talking about all sorts of things and all of those discussions were of his making. At one point, he got up, got some paper to write out what he was trying to say and he placed the paper on top of the magazine in my lap. As he was drawing, his hand kept brushing my knee. I’ve been in China long enough to know that there are no mistakes of that sort and on the incredibly rare occasion that there are, they never happen again.

For my part, I simply stayed and resisted the urge to reciprocate. In China, women do not escalate the initiation and I didn’t want to throw him off. Spending the night in a foreign language you’re embarrassed about being bad in is discombobulating enough, the poor thing didn’t need to have to figure out new gender rules as well. So I did the "Yes" I think he’s familiar with which is accepting without allowing his advances to shift our dynamic. It seemed to work as his English got better and better.

His classmate from the sports university he attended showed up with his girlfriend and it soon became clear that they and the receptionist were there to be our chaperones for the evening. He had apparently pulled in his friend and that friend’s girlfriend and receptionist to make sure I felt comfortable. We all got up to got to dinner and he made sure that I went through all doorways first. I was beyond impressed with the planning and composure he is capable of.

At dinner, I didn’t eat much as I don’t ever eat much for dinner and Z teased me about not eating much. I explained if I eat a lot at dinner, I can’t sleep. I eat a large breakfast, smaller lunch and tiny dinner. He understood and explained to our group who seemed rather flabbergasted at my lack of appetite.

I then told him I had never seen a population that could eat as much as the Chinese and the insane thing is that they’re all incredibly small.

"Small?" Z asked as he flexed beneath is winter parka, smiling. "Not small."

I couldn’t help but laugh. "No, not small, slim" I corrected myself.

And for the first time in China, there was no discussion of Americans being "fat." In fact, Z asked if everyone in America was as good at sports as I am.

"I’m not good at sports." I said.

"Yes, you are. Volleyball and, um, and basketball, you are very good. You are good at sports." He protested. It was such a relief to finally be seen the way I see myself; as a jock. And I was reminded of our lunch on Friday where Yente was discussing how "fat" her Kate-Moss-Is-Pudgy-In-Comparison frame is. She explained that her arms are slim but actually her belly is fat and that makes her a fat slob. I explained that I am just fat everywhere and Z looked at me like I was insane and laughed the laugh one does upon hearing the absurd. I can’t even begin to express how nice it is to know that my weight is a non-discussion.

During dinner, it was sorted out that the gym is not, in fact, his part time job but his creation. His coworker, best friend and classmate is also his business partner and they have plans to take their gym global. However, they’ve only just opened their business and so he must work at the school as the gym teacher to make ends meet as the business starts up. Z is the business end of the business and his best friend is the face of the business. As dinner wrapped up, Z got up to pay as no one here questions that even non-romantically interested men always pay for women. It would appear that the first date requires that the boy pay for everyone involved in creating her comfort sphere.

We all walked back to the gym (which is a large dance studio space) and crashed on the couches to watch the yoga class going on. Z sat with me, quiet for most of the time to let me watch the yoga class as it is what I had expressed most interest in.

After the yoga class, one of the students approached me and tried to barter me teaching her English for her teaching me Tai Chi. Z very politely declined for me and explained that I had just had dinner so Tai Chi was out of the question. Instead, she showed me the complete cycle of Tai Chi and we applauded her when she was done.

When the yoga class was over and the lady gone, his best friend decided to take over the stereo system and start up with the karaoke (every sound system here has the karaoke option) to serenade the girlfriend. Z and I got to talking and it got really involved though we always stopped to applaud his friend when he finished a number. It was then that I began to realize how comfortable I felt under his constant gaze.

In China, they always answer their mobile. Always. It doesn’t matter where people are or who they’re with, they answer their mobiles first. I’ve seen people answer it in board meetings to just chat away. I’ve seen people answer it in the midst of a heated fight. I’ve even heard that people do it during movies, though I haven’t been to a movie here so I can’t attest firsthand to that. Z, however, started screening his calls. The few that he did take, he watched me the whole time he was talking and most of them were asking how the date with the "foreigner" was going. In Chinese, the slang word for "foreigner" is considered somewhat rude and definitely, as an adult, not something you would say to someone you considered a human being. (Case in point: the few times I have called people I know out on calling me a "foreigner" by simply repeating the word "foreigner" they have giggled nervously, apologized profusely, bent over backwards to make amends and never did it again) I would hear the word come out of the phone and each time it did he would argue with the caller that I was not a "foreigner" but "American."

When his friend finished singing, Z took over the mic for a bit and sang a few numbers. I applauded him after each song but he quickly relinquished the mic and sat back down with me.
After Z’s performances, his friend and the girlfriend bailed while the receptionist stayed but went off to the back room somewhere to leave us alone. It was then that his phone, now on vibrate not the usual ring mode, started to go utterly unanswered.

Z and I talked some more about things that move him, movies and music and he was amazed that I know of all the Chinese movie stars that I do. He was utterly flabbergasted that I could name multiple Korean movie stars. As we hung out and things got quiet, I explained to him that the reason I can count in Chinese is because I listened to him. He became very earnest and said, "You have taught me so many English words tonight. Thank you."

I shook my head and said, "No. We’re friends. That’s what friends do."

"I think. Um. I think, we are good friends. Good friends, yes?" He asked so earnestly and with such vulnerability that I almost kissed him. "Good friends" you see, is the Chinese term for what men and women are right before they become boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Yes. We are good friends." I smiled and nodded.

He studied my face, clearly unsure if I understood his meaning. "Good friends."

"Yes. Good friends." I nodded again.

We then sat back to enjoy the silence between us and I glanced at the clock on the wall that read 1:30. I gasped and said, "It’s late!" feeling a bit like Cinderella as the words came out of my mouth. It was only just 7. "I should get home" I blurted out, realizing the poor receptionist guy was stuck there until the wee hours of the morning because I had lost track of time.

Z nodded and stood up, putting on his jacket. "I will, how do you say?" he gestured walking me home.

"You will walk me home." I said.

He nodded, "I will walk you home."

As we were crossing the street to the apartment complex (his gym is visible from my balcony) I turned to him and said the line Yente had fed me so many weeks ago. "Jin tian, wo hen kaixin." Which loosely translates to "Today [jin tian], I [wo] had a good time [hen kaixin]" but in Chinese, "hen" means "very/much/really," "kai" means "open(ed)" and "xin" means "heart." In other words, to "have a good time" with someone means that the person has "really opened your heart." Like I said, translation is not a mathematical science.

However, before I got a chance to finish my sentence with "Xie xie" (thank you) he had already said, "Xie xie." I shook my head and said "Xie xie ni" (roughly; "thank YOU"). That rendered him silent for a few moments.

He then told me how much he would like to take me to see his home in "perhaps a few months or a year."

I was beyond happy that I was able to give him something honest, earnest and in the language he feels most comfortable in. He busted his ass for over 7 hours, ended the evening unsure if I understood the idea of "Good friends" and never forgot his manners for a second. The least I could do is give him a token of confirmation on his terms. After all, he’s made me the happiest woman on the planet for at least one evening.