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Showing posts with label Asian women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Asian women. Show all posts

29.6.11

In Praise Of Asian Women

Audrey Giovanni
I'm afraid Mr. Parker has completely missed Asian culture.  Understandable, since it is very complex and few take the time to really delve into it.

Contrary to Mr. Parker's assessment, Asia is still a haven for 'real' men.  Women are still subservient and passive, and willingly led men lead.  They are deferential and demure, preferring men who are decisive and dominant.

My wife, who is Chinese Indonesian, is the epitome of feminine, treating me rightfully as the king of the house and family.  When I make a decision, there is no further discussion or even grumbling.  She demands that the children show respect to me.  She serves me in every way as a good and faithful woman.

In return, I provide her with a good life.  I use her support to enable me to advance my career and social status.  My success benefits my wife and family, giving her status and the security she craves, in order to perform her role.

Asian women, and the culure they come out of, is very strong, very family-oriented, and very male-centric.  Women here hold the door for me and wait to let me pass unhindered.  My daughter holds the car door for her father and takes his advice quite seriously, because she knows that I provide for the family, and my health and comfort are of primary concern for the well-being of all of us.

I believe where Mr. Parket goes astray is in looking at Asians superficially.  Asian men are virtually bereft of body hair and have a generally softer look to Western eyes.  They are quite soft-spoken, because showing strong emotion in public is taboo.  Asians highly prize a smooth and calm exterior, no matter what the situation.  They are the prime example of 'poker faced.'

At the same time, Asian men tend to be more tender and caring of their women, because they are treated properly by the latter.  One can be a bit softer and more gentle if one's woman is properly behaved and never acts in a way that is embarrassing or shaming to the male.  Even if my wife were angry at me, she would never dream of making a scene or causing me to lose face in public.

Asian families are much more cohesive than Western families.  If I were even remotely abusive or caused harm to my wife, her brothers and uncles would be at my door in a heartbeat to 'discuss' the situation.  I've seen it happen with others, and was involved with an in-law in that way.

There is a bit of cultural creep from the West.  Though there are very few 'gay' men in Asia, at least openly, there are cultures such as Thailand that has a tradition of many centuries with 'lady boys.'  Asians have a cultural tic that enjoys juxtaposing certain things.  The 'soft' male, or the dogs who look like lions are just two examples of this aesthetic.  Certainly, if Mr. Parker thinks that Asian men are soft, he should spar with some down at the dujo.

In fact, the martial arts are a perfect example of the cultural juxtaposition I mentioned.  In the West, we equate muscular size and tone to strength, when some of the weakest men I know are muscle-bound bone heads.  On the other hand, Asian martial arts don't require great strength, but rather sharp wits and knowledge of physics.  A quick read of Sun Tsu would demonstrate that the concept of meeting force with force is a futile idea, and that a softer approach is often far more effective in battle.  Even Mr. Parker could not argue that Jengis Khan, or even Mao Tse Tung were wimps, though history does not speak of their feats of strength, only their cunning and stategic thinking.

Having sat at the negotiating table with Asian men from several countries, I can say from experience that looks can be deceiving.  Even the softest-looking male can be a formidable opponent.  Those I have sat across from are polite and deferential to a fault, because they would never dream of showing strong emotion in public, but I daresay I would not trust them with a broomstick.

Mr. Parker's words are full of anger.  I suspect that he may have been jilted by an opponent who appeared much softer and weaker than he.  Certainly, his comments regarding the treatment of women in Asia sound as if he lost a battle for love.  Certainly, he has forgotten things like the Inquisition and the Salem Witch Hunts.

None of this is to say that women can not be conniving and treacherous.  History is repleat with examples.  In the contest of East versus West, though, I would not trade my Asian wife for ten Western women.  I am not aware of any that could hold a candle to my wife for sheer femininity and submissiveness.  In all my life (50 years now), I have never felt so masculine and empowered, as I do now.  I feel stronger at 50 than at 20 for one simple fact, I have a woman who treats me like a man.  In return, she is treated like a woman and all her needs are fulfilled, as such.

Throughout history, the West has always imagined the East as feminine.  To our eyes, the outward appearance is a great deal softer, given our he-man ideal of masculinity.  Perhaps it is Mr. Parker's view of the masculine that is clouding his judgment.  Whatever the reason, I suggest that he take a different view of Asia, and this time leave his own cultural blinders behind.  There is a reason that Asian women have been alluring to Western men for centuries.  It is not because they have been treated badly, but because they have treated men well.  Perhaps the Western world would be a bit less belligerent if the men had more reason to stay home.



Imagine, if your will, that the West is a dog and the East is a cat.  The dog will attack head-on, gnashing and barking, until it is spent.  The cat will stalk and wait for advantage, perferring to wear out the prey than itself.  In the same sense, the East has sat back for a couple of hundred years while the West has barked and gnashed its way into econmic oblivion.  Now, the East is ascendant again, as the dog has worn itself out while the cat waited and watched.


In the same way, Asian men on an individual basis do not prize rippling muscles and shows of force.  Rather, they prefer mental acuity and prowess, preferring to find an opponent's weakness than attack his strengths.


That an Asian woman would not look at a man's physique, but rather his mental capacity is not surprising.  Westerners tend to be brash and loud and overly emotional.  It's much the same as the play of personalities between Spok and Kirk in Star Trek.  The cool logic is more appealing to Asian women than the brash cowboy.


That's not to say that Asian women aren't attracted to Western men.  We have the same appeal to them as they do to us.  We are foreign and exotic, different and challenging.  But, Western men must learn quickly that our outbursts and emotional torrents are turn-offs.  Instead, the Asian woman wants the allure of a Western man who can think and adjust to his surroundings, observing and changing his approach to suit the environment.


This one fact is the source of many disappointments with couples of mixed cultures.  The Asian woman will appreciate that her man is brash and emotional, if the environment calls for it.  But, she prefers a man who knows how to read situations and act accordingly.  That is a trait that will win her respect, her heart and her submission.


In comparison, Western women have become masculinized.  They fight, get drunk and take the lead sexually.  They look and act like men, and the men, who have been drugged, poisoned and brainwashed, have allowed themselves to be feminized.  We must wake up to the fact that we have been manipulated.  It is not that it is wrong to choose such things, but it is very wrong to have it chosen for us and enforced by stealth.


I have never felt more empowered than with my wife.  I feel more masculine and powerful than I have ever felt.  The part that is confusing to the Western mind is that it doesn't require force or aggression.  It only requires and woman who is feminine and submissive, and treats her man the way he should be treated.  When that happens, men no longer feel the need to abuse because they are fulfilled and satisfied with their lives.  Their is nothing to react to or defend against within the walls of his home.


Ultimately, that is what it comes to: a man who feels threatened in his own home, on his own turf, can never be powerful or effective outside.  That is the secret to the undermining of men.  They can not fight if their own backyard is not secure and supportive.  When a man feels like he is going into battle every time he comes home, or that when he gets home, everything will be gone, including his wife and children, then how can he ever project power and confidence to the outside world.


When that happens, he becomes ineffective and weak, unable to care properly for his family.  In response, his family loses respect for him, and it becomes a viscous circle spiraling ever downward.


Mr. Parker has missed the point entirely.  His impassioned plea is exactly what is unfavorable in the eyes of Asian women.  Western men can find real women and real happiness with Asian women, but they have to be smart and adaptable.  You don't have to be a flame when smoke will do.
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Now posted on HenryMakow.com, and linked at rense.com.  Thanks, Doc!

3.2.11

Dear Mom, Part 6

Every six months, we bang out a novella to the folks back home, updating our progress integrating into the vast unknown. Those letters are serialized here, dating back to the first month we started putting electrons to phosphors here.

Dear Mom,
I’m starting this letter early in the hopes of actually being able to complete it by February 15, which will be the third anniversary of my arrival here. With any luck, and a little persistance, I should be able to meet that goal.
At any rate, it seems almost trite to say that my arrival day seems like yesterday, and yet generations ago. I can vividly remember walking from the plane to the luggage claim, and then the drive from the airport to Kemayoran, where Steve and his family lived. I distinctly remember looking around on the drive and thinking how it looked just like every movie set in southeast Asia, with coconut trees and rice paddys all over the landscape.
I recall the feeling of severe disorientation when I encountered a language unlike anything I was familiar with in the past. I strained to listen to conversations and try to catch individual words. I looked at signs that meant absolutely nothing to me; all of which seems so basic to me now. I even catch myself thinking in Indonesian on a regular basis.
At that time, I made numerous social faux pas, like paying with my left hand or waiting for women to go first through doors, and such. I would forget to remove my shoes at the door constantly. All those things have become automatic nosw. I’ve even adopted local table manners, like putting my arms on the table, eating with my hands and drinking soup from the bowl. And I can’t forget to belch at the end of a meal to signal that I have had enough to eat.
Those first few months in Balikpapan, I struggled to communicate. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t get the most basic ideas across. I spent hours with my dictionary memorizing words, though I had no reference for the grammar, which still flummoxes me. I was eating foods I had never encountered, much less heard of, and tastes that were completely foreign. Some of the ones that initially reviled me are now among my favorites.
In three years, I’ve gone from a suitcase and $1,000 and sleeping on the floor of an office, to a house that requires a rather large truck to move. My wardrobe has expanded to include a dozen dress shirts and ties, as well as a collection of batik shirts with motifs from various areas around the country. I’ve also added several pairs of shoes, two of which are sandals, which are the primary footwear here.
In a sense, Indonesia has as much invaded me, as I have invaded it.
It’s not all peaches and cream, of course. The first year was a nightmare sometimes, and I nearly gave up and came home a hundred times. The big turning point was when I cashed in my return ticket, with about a week to go. At that point, cut myself loose and chose to stick it out and see what it would be like to live somewhere new without the thought of running home at any minute. That was really the moment things started to change, not in any physical way, but in my perspective.
It was all a matter of prepositions. There was nothing to go back TO, and everything to stay FOR.
In so many ways, I feel more alive now than I have in years. Every day is a challenge, though not always in a positive way. That would be too simplistic. There are many tests and it is difficult to come to grips with being a perpetual outsider. No matter how long I live here, how much I adopt the local custom or how well I speak the local tongue, I will never fit in completely. I look and act nothing like any Indonesian anywhere in the country.
That leaves me with two alternatives: get upset all the time, or make lemonade.
I have come to enjoy the kids following me through the neighborhood chanting, “Bule kampung!” (village white boy) I have encountered very little prejudice (quite the opposite really), but it does let me know that I will never be mistaken for a local, as I might in Ireland or Germany, or even northern Italy. Here, I am an eternal outsider.
It does have its benefits, though. There is a certain deference to bule. The folks here give a wide latitude and extra consideration to foreigners. However, it is always assumed that I am ignorant, and vendors constantly try to rip me off. I call it harga bule, or white boy price. Instead of getting angry though, I have made a game out of it. In fact, I’ve gotten quite good at negotiation, much to the amusement of onlookers, who watch to see how much the vendor will scalp me for. I’m quite sure it makes for half an hour of chatter after I leave, that I not only know the real prices of things, I try to get an even better deal. Just like a good Indonesian housewife, they say.
Another trick with the buying racket is to have my girlfriend, Wati, go in and get the price settled, then I walk in to pay. It always gives me a certain satisfaction to see their faces when they realize that a bule was the buyer. The only bule I know who is better at it than me, is a Dutchman, who being Dutch, is notoriously cheap.
There is a certain attraction to the country that appeals to foreigners. The vast majority of bule I know have been here between 10 and 30 years. The few newbies I know catch the bug in about the same amount of time as I did, around six months. I have known a few who come here on a one year teaching contract and then can’t wait to get out. Invariably, they are women, just as most of the long-termers are men.
The reason is simple. Indonesia has a very traditional culture in which women are most definitely subservient to men. Part of it is the muslime influence, but most of it is just adhering to the old ways and eschewing modern feminism. It is a function not only of men demanding it, but the women themselves enforce it on each other. It is the way things are, and that’s good enough.
As a westerner, it does take some getting used to though. Having the woman walk behind you and even open doors for you is a rather strange feeling. The women won’t eat until the man has started. They will request, but never demand. In fact, of my female students, their greatest goal in life is to be a housewife and care for home and hearth. It is quite refreshing, actually, coming from a culture where the behavior of women is virtually inditinguishable from that of men. There is a reason that Asian wives are so highly prized by western men.
It is hard for me to put my finger on what it is that draws me to this place. It is a problem of having too many points, and most of them being so subtle. It’s a lot like Carroll’s, “Alice Through the Looking Glass.” There are some very obvious differences, but most are very small and take a while to notice. There is a certain unspoken initiation into the culture, in which one is slowly given the full revelation of what it is to be Indonesian.