How Sweet the Bitter Soup Read online

  We arrived back at the security bureau to find that Second Stamp Man had indeed arrived. William gave him a cigarette and Shi Mu apologized profusely for having made him wait those ten minutes. After making us sweat and grovel a bit, he gave us the second stamp. We felt as if we were holding solid gold as we left the security bureau. We had gotten our precious second stamp and were on our way to get the third and final stamp—or so we thought.

  Shi Mu knew a guy who knew a girl who worked with the official who had access to the third stamp. It was Saturday afternoon at three o’clock—not usual business hours—but thanks to Shi Mu’s connection, we were in.

  William carefully gave the woman his paper that already had the first two stamps on it, handing to her with both hands—a sign of politeness in China. She looked it over and made what sounded like a casual comment, as if she were commenting on the weather. What she had actually said, though, was that the second stamp was wrong.

  It was the scene at the security bureau all over again. Everyone was arguing, even though we were all on the same side. We simply could not believe this was happening. William and the girl were passing the paper back and forth, pointing to this and that. Finally, the girl got a book out, found what she was looking for, and read it to them. Shi Mu grabbed the book and read it for himself. He looked at William, who then looked at me.

  We had no choice but to return once again to the security bureau and hope that Second Stamp Man would get it right this time.

  Of course, when we arrived, Second Stamp Man was nowhere to be found. This time, his colleagues told us, he was getting his hair cut.

  At this news, we didn’t know whether to scream or cry—or just lie down in defeat. We’d had it. We were physically exhausted and mentally drained, and I felt just plain sad at how bleak our chances of getting our marriage certificate seemed to be. We had done the thing, we had played along with the ever-changing rules, and all we wanted was the stupid stamp! We were trying to get married, for Heaven’s sake. Why on earth did it have to be so complicated? It was as if the universe were testing us, even taunting us, to see just how much two people would tolerate in order to get married.

  Shi Mu looked around as if searching in the air for answers. Finally he looked forcefully at the janitor, who was quietly reading his newspaper, and said, “Take me to him.”

  Off they went to the barber.

  Not thirty minutes had passed when Shi Mu and the janitor returned, not with Second Stamp Man himself but with the key to the cabinet where the second stamp was kept. For a split second after we got our beloved second stamp, I began to wonder if perhaps those Tang dynasty legacies should have focused on the key rather than the stamp—but then I realized I didn’t care. I was just happy that we had completed step one in the process of getting our marriage certificate.

  As William, Shi Mu, uncle two, and I jumped into our semi-stolen car, I smiled and thought to myself, Only nine hundred and ninety-nine more steps to go.

  William squeezed my hand as if to say, “My thoughts exactly.”

  chapter 30

  Other than working on getting these precious stamps, we spent Spring Festival getting to know William’s family. Some of his aunts and uncles lived in the town where his parents, brother, and sister-in-law lived, while others lived in the countryside.

  Spring Festival is the time of year when all Chinese go out and visit one another. Every morning, each family has goodies set out on their table so that when visitors come, they are prepared. It is actually a nice concept but like many things in China, it is rather intense. In all fairness, my own exhaustion with the tradition was probably due, at least in part, to the fact that I couldn’t understand the language well enough at that time to truly participate. Also, no matter how hard William’s family tried to include me, I just wasn’t used to being around this many strangers, and for so long a time.

  I wanted days of sitting around the house relaxing, but during Spring Festival this seemed to be impossible. I longed for holidays like Christmas, where my family stays in pajamas all morning, where there’s no agenda, where everything is slow-moving and low-key. Here in Huang Mei, the expectation was that we would visit three or four families a day! And it wasn’t as if we jumped in the car to do this; it involved bus rides full of cigarette smoke if we were in town, and lots of walking if we were in the countryside. It was exhausting, to say the least. Nothing like what I considered a “holiday.”

  And all the while, of course, we were trying to get our marriage certificate, and we were both painfully aware of William’s sickness and the fact that we had done nothing about it. We were stressed about money and how we were going to complete the other steps that needed to be completed in Wuhan.

  How were we going to manage everything?

  We took the bus to Wuhan later that week. We needed to get everything translated and then hand all of the paperwork from William’s hometown over to the government official. I was so afraid of him, of the power he had. I hoped to God that he would be fair and just do his job.

  I don’t know what was going through my head as we entered that government building and took the elevator upstairs to the office where we had received such bad news before. It had been less than a week since we had seen this official, but it felt like at least a year. So much had happened since those first few days in Wuhan. For one thing, I had been to Guangzhou and back and had gotten the non-marriage certificate. We had traipsed through the countryside getting our three stamps, and we had “celebrated” Spring Festival in the midst of all these uncertainties about the certificate, our lack of money, and of course, William’s illness. So much was out of our control, and so much was unknown.

  Our documents were deemed acceptable; we were issued the marriage certificate that day!

  The final step was to get it officially notarized, which would cost several hundred yuan. We had no choice but to use the last of our money on the notarization, which meant that we would not have enough money for a hotel that night—but we knew that would be fine, as long as we could get a bus back that night.

  We raced over to the notarization office, handed them our certificate, and asked them what time it would be finished.

  “The earliest you can get it is tomorrow afternoon,” the girl behind the desk said.

  We were in no way prepared to stay another night in Wuhan.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked William. “This is so stupid. “When did we become so poor? We have actually made it this far, gotten our certificate. We are on the last step and now we don’t have enough money to finish it!”

  “It will be okay, sweetie,” he said. “Okay, what’s our money situation right now? We have about six hundred kuai, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “but this will cost almost four hundred, so that leaves two hundred to get bus tickets, then we’ll have about fifty left over. Fifty is not enough to get a hotel tonight, and what about food?”

  “Okay, what if I can find us a room for less than one hundred, and what if we take a different kind of bus to get back to Huang Mei? There must be a cheaper way.”

  I frowned. “I seriously doubt there could be anything cheaper than what we’ve taken, William; that bus is pretty basic.”

  “Trust me,” he said. “It won’t be pleasant, but there are much cheaper ways to travel.”

  William managed to get us space in a dormitory at his former college for that night. It wasn’t fancy, of course, but all we needed was a place to sleep and wash. It had both, and that was great. For dinner that night, we wanted to really celebrate. After all, we had gotten our certificate; by all legal definitions, we were married! Being on the filthy streets of Wuhan with a budget of one hundred yuan wasn’t exactly what we had envisioned for our honeymoon, but we had each other, so we made the best of it.

  William wanted to take me to a place that he said made the best soup. He said he used to get it all the time back in his college days. It wasn’t so much a place we were looking for as it was a guy—t
he soup guy. His location changed from time to time, as most of his supplies were in a little wagon. He would find a little shanty and set up shop for a bit, until the police booted him out.

  We walked around for a while and finally found him—right down the street from the government office, actually. He rounded up a couple of stools for us and turned a box upside down for our table. We sat right off the sidewalk near his little shanty, and he heated our soup over an open fire.

  The soup was actually the best soup I’d ever had, and it filled me up. As we ate, we sat there looking around and looking at each other. Despite everything, despite all the stress that the last two weeks had brought, we actually had our marriage certificate in hand. William and I were married. With this realization, the soup tasted even better.

  He reached across our makeshift table and took my hand. “I love you so much, Lori. You are my whole world.”

  “I love you too, William. I’m so happy to be your wife.”

  With that, I got my first kiss as a married woman.

  William tends to get pretty analytical, and that night, after dinner, we talked about what was most important to us. He said that we should have three principles by which to measure if we were doing the right things.

  “I think it all comes down to three things,” he said seriously. “First, we are together. Second, we are happy. Third, we are working on our future. If anything conflicts with these principles, it’s not good. If it is in harmony with these principles, it is good, or at least is something to consider.”

  He said this so thoughtfully, and it made sense to me. I didn’t know where he came up with this stuff, but I loved how his mind worked. I felt such gratitude that I’d met him, and that I felt like myself—the best version of myself I could imagine. Would I have found this best version of me back in Chicago? I didn’t think so. I loved William with my whole heart, and I believed finding him was an answer to a prayer and hope I had never dared to verbalize, even to myself.

  chapter 31

  The bus home was one of the illegal ones. These buses are not registered with the local government, so they can charge the passengers less. They are only supposed to take a certain number of people; however, it is in the driver’s best interest to get as many passengers as possible because, of course, the more people he gets, the more worthwhile the trip is. These buses will not depart until they are full, so they drive around recruiting others who want to go in the same direction. Usually their cost is about half that of the nicer buses, and if you can stand the waiting as the bus fills up, the filth, the cigarette smoke, the spitting, and the danger of getting caught by the police, this is the way to go.

  We had gotten all our notarizations that morning and then called Mom. I said a quick “hi” and then put William on with her.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said. “We are going to tell you some good news. Lori and I got married yesterday.”

  She knew, of course, that we were working on it. They went on to talk for a few more minutes and I felt intense gratitude. I knew that if she could hear his voice, she would somehow be able to feel that he loved me and that her daughter had married the right man. I knew that happened as they talked. I talked with her after he did, and she was truly happy for me. I could also hear the sadness in her voice, though, about being away from me during the most important event in my life. I felt sad about that too. I never thought I’d be planning my wedding without my sisters. Then again, I never really thought I’d experience something so momentous without Dad there, either, and it made me realize just how much I missed him.

  When we got home that night it was almost nine thirty but the family had waited, and when we arrived they held dinner for us. That is a very Chinese thing to do and is one way the Chinese show their love for one another. They hadn’t snacked on anything as they waited. They’d simply waited. They would eat when the whole family was home.

  This really touched me. As much as I’d loved my family growing up, we wouldn’t ever have sat and waited like that when it came to eating. It almost made me laugh to think about it. Perhaps we would have waited on the formal meal, but we certainly would have eaten a peanut butter sandwich or something to “tide us over.” No, discipline wasn’t really a concept in our home. It was a happy home, for certain, and there were many great and fun things about my parents, but they did not set limits on us, particularly about what and when we ate. I think that is a big part of why my sisters and I struggled so much with weight, and really, why all of us struggled with limits of one kind or another.

  As we ate with his family that night, William told them about our adventures in Wuhan and everyone was all smiles. They were so engaged and wanted to hear every detail of our experience. I don’t think I’d ever seen them all smile that much. After we ate, we showed them the certificates and notarizations saying that we were, in fact, now legally married. His mother’s next question was, “When shall we have the dinner?”

  “Dinner” in this case meant wedding dinner.

  We liked the idea but knew it was impossible. We didn’t have the money for something like that anymore.

  That night, William’s mom—now “Mama” to me—gave me a present: a beautiful diamond ring that had cost her almost two thousand yuan, an amount that would have taken her nearly a year to save. She had gone down to the jewelry store herself and picked it out. It was clear that she had used some of the money we had given her to buy it; we had given her and William’s dad a few thousand yuan and had planned to give them at least that much more during our visit, but now we had only three hundred yuan.

  This was so hard. It was hard for William to tell his parents we wouldn’t be able to help them after all—that in fact, we would need their help to get back to Guangzhou.

  William and I thought of the price of the ring, and how much that money would mean to his family. We decided to ask his mom to try to return it. The idea just about killed us. His sweet, humble mother had picked out a beautiful ring for her daughter-in-law, thinking she had the luxury to do so, and we didn’t want to hurt her.

  William felt so awful for his mom and for me. I told him not to worry about me and I meant it. The fact that he was now my husband made me the happiest girl in the world. Nothing could take the place of that, not even a thousand diamond rings. All of it would mean nothing without him, so if we needed to return the ring, then that was fine with me.

  When he talked to his mom about it, though, she wouldn’t hear of it. She was so upset. William tried to convince her but she adamantly refused to even consider it. “It’s her wedding ring,” she yelled, her voice quivering with sadness.

  We all went to bed and decided to talk about it in the morning.

  I was so sick that night. I had sharp stomach pains and couldn’t sleep at all. The next morning I couldn’t eat breakfast, and William and his mom kept checking on me. William was an angel. I grew so much fonder of him as he lay next to me, rubbing my stomach and reading stories to me.

  He looked thoughtfully at me and said, “Lori, you married a poor man from a poor family.”

  I smiled. “Well, yes, I suppose I did. But I love you. You are who I love. Money doesn’t matter.”

  He came closer as I rested on the bed, and leaned in, holding my hand. “Will you be happy? I will do everything I can, every day, to make you happy.”

  “I know you will. I’ll do the same for you.”

  I knew that things would sometimes be hard, but if we were together, we would be happy. So we lay there reading stories, getting teary at some of them. He was just like my dad in that way, very tender-hearted.

  That afternoon we decided that we would go to the jewelry store and see if they would at least exchange the ring for two cheaper ones. Mama finally agreed to this after I convinced her that I really didn’t mind and that we needed the money worse. This way we could each have one and we could get a refund on the difference.

  Well, the trip to the jewelry store proved to be a nightmare. Not only were the people there unc
ooperative, they were also crazy and rude. It turned into a screaming match between William and the man and woman who owned the shop. Mama had yelled too but was now at the point of fighting back tears. I had never seen that side of William—that anger—but I could tell what was fueling his anger. Clearly, the people were dishonest and had taken advantage of his mom. He was trying so hard to defend his mother, but these people were stone-hearted. They had seen her coming, so to speak. They’d known she had never before set foot in such a store and that she was naïve as to what a ring should actually cost. I felt my heart would break watching this scene.

  William is a very tender and patient man who can remain calm and collected when most others cannot. I have seen this side of him a few times since, and it is always when someone has wronged or hurt someone in his family. He is one who truly chooses his battles and when he chooses to fight for something, he does it with all this heart.

  As his argument with the shop owners grew more heated, I begged him to just leave the store. He was banging his hand on the glass, and I feared he might break it and then we’d be in worse financial trouble. I also knew that if the police became involved, they would fault William, since he was the once causing the scene. Beyond that, though, he had a foreign wife and they would assume he was rich, which meant that they would expect a bribe. All of this was going through my mind as I pleaded with him to leave. We needed to just cut our losses. Besides, I didn’t mind keeping the ring and I knew that would make Mama happy too.

  Finally, William agreed to leave.

  We’d get the money to get home somehow.

  chapter 32