《性别、亲密关系与社会》课程教学资源（计划生育与女性）Cross-Border Brides：Vietnamese Wives,Chinese Husbands in a Border-Area Fishing Village.pdf

gally,in a small boat.Although nervous,I wanted to take the route used by the women I knew in Wanwei. Ten people were already waiting when I arrived at the boat dock behind a private house in Mong Cai on the banks of the Ka Long River.I dared not strike up a conversation with any of them,having been warned against doing so by the friends who had arranged my trip.Each passenger gave 1oo,ooo VND (about USss)to the boat owner.Two of my fellow passengers were young women who seemed amazed by everything and looked worried, quite unlike the middle-aged woman in their company,who laughed and talked seemingly without a care.One of the young women got seasick;the other fared better,but she looked tense and scared,especially when the boat owner stopped to talk and give money to someone near the border crossing. When the boat arrived in Wanwei,the older woman promptly led the two younger ones away.I later learned that she was a matchmaker and that her two charges,who hailed from Quang Ninh province near the border,had gone with her to Wanwei to find husbands. I had no intention of studying mixed marriages when I first visited Wanwei in 1999.I was then part of a team considering investigating the consequences of the creation the previous year of the Dongxing-Mong Cai Free Economic Zone.That project never got off the ground,but I became interested in the lives of the Vietnamese women I met in Wanwei who were married to Chinese fishermen.Since then,I have traveled to Wanwei at least once a year and gotten to know forty-four such women(up until 2o08).I stay for extended periods,sometimes in the home of the Party Branch secretary who happens to belong to the Jing (ethnic Vietnamese)community.I have regularly attended the annual festival of the Jing community as an honored guest.I have helped my informants as they went about their household chores,worked alongside them as they cleaned and mended their husbands' fishing nets,dug in the sand for small mollusks with them,and processed jellyfish,one of the main products of Wanwei,with them;I have walked between the village and the shore,puffing behind the women as they carry heavy baskets on their heads.I have hung around the market stall where one of my informants sells produce and the small pavilion where another woman offers her services as a seamstress.We have long chats-sometimes in groups, sometimes one on one.When it is time for me to go home to Vietnam,some of the women entrust me with presents and news for their birth families.As 414 Cross-Border Brides

ùõù Cross-Border Brides gally, in a small boat. Although nervous, I wanted to take the route used by the women I knew in Wanwei.1 Ten people were already waiting when I arrived at the boat dock behind a private house in Móng Cái on the banks of the Ka Long River. I dared not strike up a conversation with any of them, having been warned against doing so by the friends who had arranged my trip. Each passenger gave 100,000 VND (about US$5) to the boat owner. Two of my fellow passengers were young women who seemed amazed by everything and looked worried, quite unlike the middle-aged woman in their company, who laughed and talked seemingly without a care. One of the young women got seasick; the other fared better, but she looked tense and scared, especially when the boat owner stopped to talk and give money to someone near the border crossing. When the boat arrived in Wanwei, the older woman promptly led the two younger ones away. I later learned that she was a matchmaker and that her two charges, who hailed from Quảng Ninh province near the border, had gone with her to Wanwei to find husbands. I had no intention of studying mixed marriages when I first visited Wanwei in 1999. I was then part of a team considering investigating the consequences of the creation the previous year of the Dongxing–Móng Cái Free Economic Zone. That project never got off the ground, but I became interested in the lives of the Vietnamese women I met in Wanwei who were married to Chinese fishermen. Since then, I have traveled to Wanwei at least once a year and gotten to know forty-four such women (up until 2008). I stay for extended periods, sometimes in the home of the Party Branch secretary who happens to belong to the Jing (ethnic Vietnamese) community. I have regularly attended the annual festival of the Jing community as an honored guest. I have helped my informants as they went about their household chores, worked alongside them as they cleaned and mended their husbands’ fishing nets, dug in the sand for small mollusks with them, and processed jellyfish, one of the main products of Wanwei, with them; I have walked between the village and the shore, puffing behind the women as they carry heavy baskets on their heads. I have hung around the market stall where one of my informants sells produce and the small pavilion where another woman offers her services as a seamstress. We have long chats—sometimes in groups, sometimes one on one. When it is time for me to go home to Vietnam, some of the women entrust me with presents and news for their birth families. As

a result,I have been given an entree into the families and communities they left behind.In this article,I seek to give voice to this small group of women as they reflect on the challenges and opportunities of cross-border marriage. Transnational marriages form part of the story of rural Vietnam's trans- formation since the 199os.Villages have become more urbanized.As factories and industrial parks spring up,arable and relatively unpolluted land becomes scarcer,impoverishing those without the skills or opportunities to find fac- tory work.Meanwhile,as the means of communication and transportation have expanded,so have villagers'horizons.More and more young women marry foreigners.In one of my informants'native village in Hai Phong,the Party Branch secretary of told me that 6o percent of marriage-age women had married foreigners.In another village in Thai Binh,the cadre in charge of cultural affairs explained,"More and more women want to go abroad, either to get married or to find work.Partly it's because they no longer want to labor in the fields;partly it's because they just follow the trend."The major- ity of women who"marry out"go to the People's Republic of China(PRC), Taiwan,and Korea.Some marry overseas Vietnamese in the United States or Australia,but most marry local men with no ties to Vietnam Transnational marriages involving Vietnamese women have received a certain amount of coverage-some scholarly,most journalistic,and some downright sensational.Both the Vietnamese and foreign press focus on numbers,in particular the number of women believed to be victims of human trafficking("Gan 1.ooo"2014).2 Invariably,these women are depicted as leading miserable lives after being conned into mercenary and exploitative marriages("Ham chong ngoai"2008).In both the media and the scholarly literature,the growing trend toward transnational marriages is linked to economic and social change,moral decline,new lifestyles,and gender imbalance,as well as larger issues such as globalization and urbaniza- tion (see Constable 2003;Glodava and Onizuka 1994;Nguyen and Hugo 2o05 Simons 2o01;Tran 2005;Tseng 2007). Cross-border marriages form a tiny subset of this phenomenon.The Vietnamese wives of Wanwei men constitute a small portion of the total number of women who contract to marry foreign men.The fact that they have settled in a village where there is a sizable population of Vietnamese speakers distinguishes them from the women who end up in South Korea, Taiwan,or farther north in the PRC,where they are marooned in a sea of Nguyen Thi Phudng Cham 415

Nguyễn Thị Phương Châm ùõú a result, I have been given an entrée into the families and communities they left behind. In this article, I seek to give voice to this small group of women as they reflect on the challenges and opportunities of cross-border marriage. Transnational marriages form part of the story of rural Vietnam’s transformation since the 1990s. Villages have become more urbanized. As factories and industrial parks spring up, arable and relatively unpolluted land becomes scarcer, impoverishing those without the skills or opportunities to find factory work. Meanwhile, as the means of communication and transportation have expanded, so have villagers’ horizons. More and more young women marry foreigners. In one of my informants’ native village in Hải Phòng, the Party Branch secretary of told me that 60 percent of marriage-age women had married foreigners. In another village in Thái Bình, the cadre in charge of cultural affairs explained, “More and more women want to go abroad, either to get married or to find work. Partly it’s because they no longer want to labor in the fields; partly it’s because they just follow the trend.” The majority of women who “marry out” go to the People’s Republic of China (PRC), Taiwan, and Korea. Some marry overseas Vietnamese in the United States or Australia, but most marry local men with no ties to Vietnam. Transnational marriages involving Vietnamese women have received a certain amount of coverage—some scholarly, most journalistic, and some downright sensational. Both the Vietnamese and foreign press focus on numbers, in particular the number of women believed to be victims of human trafficking (“Gần 11.000” 2014).2 Invariably, these women are depicted as leading miserable lives after being conned into mercenary and exploitative marriages (“Ham chồng ngoại” 2008). In both the media and the scholarly literature, the growing trend toward transnational marriages is linked to economic and social change, moral decline, new lifestyles, and gender imbalance, as well as larger issues such as globalization and urbanization (see Constable 2003; Glodava and Onizuka 1994; Nguyen and Hugo 2005 Simons 2001; Trần 2005; Tseng 2007). Cross-border marriages form a tiny subset of this phenomenon. The Vietnamese wives of Wanwei men constitute a small portion of the total number of women who contract to marry foreign men. The fact that they have settled in a village where there is a sizable population of Vietnamese speakers distinguishes them from the women who end up in South Korea, Taiwan, or farther north in the PRC, where they are marooned in a sea of

strangers whose language and customs they do not share.Living close to the border,the wives of Wanwei are able to maintain personal contact with their birth families in Vietnam. These women's lives as wives and mothers are also quite different from those of the Vietnamese women who make regular business trips between Mong Cai and Wanwei but do not reside there,and from those of the single girls who have recently come to work in the tourism industry.They also have very different experiences from the male guest workers who stream in from rural Vietnam to factories in Guangdong or Europe.Rather than being examples of transnational flows,the Vietnamese wives of Wanwei illustrate the experiences of individuals involved in cross-border marriages all along the China-Vietnam border,and perhaps in other borderlands as well. WANWEI According to Wei Xiaoming of the Guangxi Women's Union,"in 1999,an investigation in Dongxing showed that 1,269 Vietnamese women were living illegally without household registration or official registration of temporary residency;almost all were living with local men without being officially mar- ried"(see Ma 2oo2).Among the six thousand or so inhabitants of nearby Wanwei,a small Chinese fishing village that lies 25 kilometers from the Viet- namese border,are some fifty Vietnamese women who have settled illegally in the last couple of decades as unofficial wives of Chinese men. Together with two smaller villages,Shanxin and Wutou,Wanwei forms the Jingdao Peninsula.Originally,the villages were separate islands.In 1970, a seawall and causeways were built to connect them to one another and to other areas in Jiangping on the mainland,thereby forming the peninsula.In the past,the three islands were often objects of contestation between Vietnam and China.Their status was stabilized by the Franco-Chinese treaty of May 6,1887,which set the Peilun River as the border between the two countries: Wanwei became part of the Chinese territory,while Mong Cai became part of Vietnam.In Wanwei,people still recite these lines:"We used to live in Viet- nam;because of the French bandits,we had to become Chinese."As a result of this history,the peninsula is home to the largest concentration of Jing.As of 2009,there were 22,517 Jing in China.Outside of Jingdao,some Jing can also be found in nearby Fangcheng,Qiuzhou,Dongxing,and a few other scattered 416 Cross-Border Brides

ùõû Cross-Border Brides strangers whose language and customs they do not share. Living close to the border, the wives of Wanwei are able to maintain personal contact with their birth families in Vietnam. These women’s lives as wives and mothers are also quite different from those of the Vietnamese women who make regular business trips between Móng Cái and Wanwei but do not reside there, and from those of the single girls who have recently come to work in the tourism industry. They also have very different experiences from the male guest workers who stream in from rural Vietnam to factories in Guangdong or Europe. Rather than being examples of transnational flows, the Vietnamese wives of Wanwei illustrate the experiences of individuals involved in cross-border marriages all along the China-Vietnam border, and perhaps in other borderlands as well. WANWEI According to Wei Xiaoming of the Guangxi Women’s Union, “in 1999, an investigation in Dongxing showed that 1,269 Vietnamese women were living illegally without household registration or official registration of temporary residency; almost all were living with local men without being officially married” (see Ma 2002). Among the six thousand or so inhabitants of nearby Wanwei, a small Chinese fishing village that lies 25 kilometers from the Vietnamese border, are some fifty Vietnamese women who have settled illegally in the last couple of decades as unofficial wives of Chinese men.3 Together with two smaller villages, Shanxin and Wutou, Wanwei forms the Jingdao Peninsula. Originally, the villages were separate islands. In 1970, a seawall and causeways were built to connect them to one another and to other areas in Jiangping on the mainland, thereby forming the peninsula. In the past, the three islands were often objects of contestation between Vietnam and China. Their status was stabilized by the Franco-Chinese treaty of May 6, 1887, which set the Peilun River as the border between the two countries: Wanwei became part of the Chinese territory, while Móng Cái became part of Vietnam. In Wanwei, people still recite these lines: “We used to live in Vietnam; because of the French bandits, we had to become Chinese.” As a result of this history, the peninsula is home to the largest concentration of Jing. As of 2009, there were 22,517 Jing in China. Outside of Jingdao, some Jing can also be found in nearby Fangcheng, Qiuzhou, Dongxing, and a few other scattered