ELIGIBLE YOUNG MAN
Well, Gung Gung went to meet Popo's family in Shanghai and it was immediately apparent that Popo's father didn't like him. He disliked the fact that Gung Gung was Sei Yip – the Hakka had a longstanding feud with people from Sai Yip, and he really didn't like the fact that Gung Gung had no money or prospects. The job introductions Popo had promised were not forthcoming. The only thing to soften the situation was that Popo's mother liked Gung Gung (he readily admitted as much despite his disparaging remarks about her physique) – and later, the women were to have their way.
In Shanghai, Gung Gung discovered that none of the big foreign companies were going to hire him. The only Chinese they hired were to sweep the floors. Fortunately, during Gung Gung's last year in college, he had headed the Chinese Students Association (or at least organized some sort of gathering or conference) and he had made a point of collecting the names and addresses of all those returning to China. He now sent out letters to these contacts in the hopes of a lead.
One classmate replied suggesting that Gung Gung seek out a "Dean Lee" at Lingnan College in Guangzhou – according to Gung Gung in 1998, a six-and-a-half-day boat trip from Shanghai – where they were looking for people to teach economics. Gung Gung went to the school and spoke to Dean Lee, who promised him a quick reply. One week, two weeks, three weeks went by, but still there was no word. By chance, Gung Gung attended a wedding with some friends and at the reception ran into the Dean. Now cornered, Dean Lee made profuse apologies. He had the means to hire but one teacher, at a meager salary (of $125 a month?), yet he had more masters and PhDs (in one version, two of each) applying than he could handle, and thus he was in no position to hire someone with merely a bachelor’s degree. Thus closed the door on an academic career.
Another friend came to the fore with news of a government vacancy. The mayor of Swatow was looking for a secretary. Gung Gung would be perfect. The friend was returning to Swatow the next day. He wanted Gung Gung ready to catch the train with him first thing in the morning. Oh, yes, there was one other point: Gung Gung would have to supply his own clothes for the position – a full set of robes at a cost of about $3,000. Three thousand dollars! Gung Gung asked how much the job paid. The friend replied $125 a month. Gung Gung's heart sank at the thought of two years' wages committed in advance to pay off that intial investment. . . . "No, no!" his friend said he hadn't understood at all. As the mayor's secretary, he'd hold the key to all the government contracts and be the conduit for all kinds of kickbacks for the mayor and his staff. Hearing this, Gung Gung declined outright. He said he wanted to launch a career, but not to sell his soul.
After this second disappointment, Gung Gung began to scour the wares of the town (was he in Canton or Shanghai or somewhere else?), looking for an item that might be suitable for export. He walked into the shop of a prosperous merchant, named "Ng". He went around inspecting what was for sale and inquiring where each item was from and how much it cost. Mr. Ng obliged, then asked Gung Gung if he weren't from Sai Yip. Mr. Ng thought he detected the accent of someone from his natal area. Well, the discovery that they were from the same area was good enough for an invitation to dinner. Gung Gung was told to come back in the evening for a meal with the Ng family. He agreed readily, not about to turn down an invitation to eat at the home of a prosperous merchant. By this time, Gung Gung had moved to bachelor's quarters to economize.
Gung Gung arrived at the Ng home, where he was introduced to Mrs. Ng – at about thirty-five, she was considerably younger than Mr. Ng – their ten-year-old son and two daughters, aged about sixteen-and-a-half and eighteen. At the table, Gung Gung was seated between the two young ladies and they were full of curiosity about life in the States.
The next day Gung Gung bought a small "Gwun Yam" (Boddhisattva of Compassion) orchid and went back to the Ng house, intending to present the plant to Mrs. Ng as a token of thanks. Mr. Ng greeted Gung Gung warmly, very excited to see him again so soon:
"My boy, Mrs. Ng and I could not sleep last night for talking about you. As you see, I'm no longer a young man and my health has not been good. I'm greatly concerned for the future of my family. My son is still small and in no position to take over the family business for some years to come. If I were to pass away, who would provide for my wife and children and see that the two girls are properly married?
"So, you see, what I'd like to do is offer you a one-third interest in my business and your choice of my daughters' hands in marriage. I see you are a man of promise. You know my business. And what's more, we both come from Sai Yip. I think this is a perfect match."
Gung Gung was most taken aback and flustered by the generous offer. With great embarrassment, he said, "But Mr. Ng, I cannot accept your offer. I'm already betrothed." In fact, he and Popo had not set their engagement, but they were interested in each other and had reached a certain understanding.
The man was crestfallen. Tears filled his eyes. Gung Gung hurried to take his leave, making apologies, and never went back.
In Shanghai, Gung Gung discovered that none of the big foreign companies were going to hire him. The only Chinese they hired were to sweep the floors. Fortunately, during Gung Gung's last year in college, he had headed the Chinese Students Association (or at least organized some sort of gathering or conference) and he had made a point of collecting the names and addresses of all those returning to China. He now sent out letters to these contacts in the hopes of a lead.
One classmate replied suggesting that Gung Gung seek out a "Dean Lee" at Lingnan College in Guangzhou – according to Gung Gung in 1998, a six-and-a-half-day boat trip from Shanghai – where they were looking for people to teach economics. Gung Gung went to the school and spoke to Dean Lee, who promised him a quick reply. One week, two weeks, three weeks went by, but still there was no word. By chance, Gung Gung attended a wedding with some friends and at the reception ran into the Dean. Now cornered, Dean Lee made profuse apologies. He had the means to hire but one teacher, at a meager salary (of $125 a month?), yet he had more masters and PhDs (in one version, two of each) applying than he could handle, and thus he was in no position to hire someone with merely a bachelor’s degree. Thus closed the door on an academic career.
Another friend came to the fore with news of a government vacancy. The mayor of Swatow was looking for a secretary. Gung Gung would be perfect. The friend was returning to Swatow the next day. He wanted Gung Gung ready to catch the train with him first thing in the morning. Oh, yes, there was one other point: Gung Gung would have to supply his own clothes for the position – a full set of robes at a cost of about $3,000. Three thousand dollars! Gung Gung asked how much the job paid. The friend replied $125 a month. Gung Gung's heart sank at the thought of two years' wages committed in advance to pay off that intial investment. . . . "No, no!" his friend said he hadn't understood at all. As the mayor's secretary, he'd hold the key to all the government contracts and be the conduit for all kinds of kickbacks for the mayor and his staff. Hearing this, Gung Gung declined outright. He said he wanted to launch a career, but not to sell his soul.
After this second disappointment, Gung Gung began to scour the wares of the town (was he in Canton or Shanghai or somewhere else?), looking for an item that might be suitable for export. He walked into the shop of a prosperous merchant, named "Ng". He went around inspecting what was for sale and inquiring where each item was from and how much it cost. Mr. Ng obliged, then asked Gung Gung if he weren't from Sai Yip. Mr. Ng thought he detected the accent of someone from his natal area. Well, the discovery that they were from the same area was good enough for an invitation to dinner. Gung Gung was told to come back in the evening for a meal with the Ng family. He agreed readily, not about to turn down an invitation to eat at the home of a prosperous merchant. By this time, Gung Gung had moved to bachelor's quarters to economize.
Gung Gung arrived at the Ng home, where he was introduced to Mrs. Ng – at about thirty-five, she was considerably younger than Mr. Ng – their ten-year-old son and two daughters, aged about sixteen-and-a-half and eighteen. At the table, Gung Gung was seated between the two young ladies and they were full of curiosity about life in the States.
The next day Gung Gung bought a small "Gwun Yam" (Boddhisattva of Compassion) orchid and went back to the Ng house, intending to present the plant to Mrs. Ng as a token of thanks. Mr. Ng greeted Gung Gung warmly, very excited to see him again so soon:
"My boy, Mrs. Ng and I could not sleep last night for talking about you. As you see, I'm no longer a young man and my health has not been good. I'm greatly concerned for the future of my family. My son is still small and in no position to take over the family business for some years to come. If I were to pass away, who would provide for my wife and children and see that the two girls are properly married?
"So, you see, what I'd like to do is offer you a one-third interest in my business and your choice of my daughters' hands in marriage. I see you are a man of promise. You know my business. And what's more, we both come from Sai Yip. I think this is a perfect match."
Gung Gung was most taken aback and flustered by the generous offer. With great embarrassment, he said, "But Mr. Ng, I cannot accept your offer. I'm already betrothed." In fact, he and Popo had not set their engagement, but they were interested in each other and had reached a certain understanding.
The man was crestfallen. Tears filled his eyes. Gung Gung hurried to take his leave, making apologies, and never went back.