MCLC: self-combed women

[Denton, Kirk]

MCLC LIST
From: kirk (denton.2 at osu.edu)
Subject: self-combed women
***********************************************************

Source: The Guardian (7/3/14):
http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/jul/03/survivors-ancient-chinese-cust
om-self-combed-women

Self-combed women: last survivors of an ancient Chinese custom
Girls in Guangdong took a lifelong vow of chastity and gained independence
– at a price
By Tania Branigan in Shatou village, Guangdong

Her mother carefully undid Liang Jieyun's plaits, combed out the strands
and pinned them into a bun. When her friends put up their hair, they wore
the red clothing of brides. But as Liang left her girlhood behind and
stepped across the family threshold, she was embarking on a lifelong
commitment to remain single.

At 85, Liang is a rare survivor of a custom stretching back to the early
19th century in parts of southern Guangdong province. Women here could vow
to remain a "self-combed woman", or zishunü, leaving their parents' home
to work without marrying.

"If I hadn't become a 'self-combed woman', the landlord would have forced
me into marriage," she said.

Pretty girls were often forcibly taken as wives or concubines; it happened
to two of her friends. They killed themselves.

Becoming a zishunü gave women an unusual degree of independence in a world
that allowed them little education, voice or freedom. But it came at a
heavy price. They toiled in factories or other people's homes to support
their families. Women who broke their pledge of celibacy were supposed to
kill themselves, though by Liang's era, such expectations had largely
disappeared.

The words recited with the eight strokes of the comb hint at the uneven
path ahead: "First comb for luck, second for longevity, third for
contentment, fourth for safety. Fifth for freedom …"

Shatou village, Shunde, was once a centre of this practice. Down an
alleyway, tucked behind the high modern white-tiled homes, lies a
two-storey grey building with an elegant courtyard before it. In front of
its gate, mulberry trees sprawl inside a red-brick wall.

The Hall of Ice and Jade – named after the saying "as pure as jade, as
unsullied as ice" – was built to shelter these women in old age, although
it is now a museum.

Liang is tiny – perhaps 142cm (4ft 8in) – and fine-boned. She sits on a
bench, swinging feet in black galoshes, beside Huang Li-e, a 90-year-old
with a mischievous smile and an aptitude for teasing.

They have never had husbands, children – or second thoughts.

"No regrets," they say in unison.

"A lot of men chased after me," Liang added, with a shooing motion: "I
told them to go away."

The custom was one form of "marriage resistance" in the Pearl river delta.
Others included "delayed marriage": wives would not move to their
husband's home or have sex with him for the first few years. It may have
emerged because Shunde was a silk production centre, giving women
opportunities in the factories. The area also placed a heavy emphasis on
female chastity, said Ye Ziling, who has interviewed many survivors
<http://intersections.anu.edu.au/issue17/ye.htm>, possibly helping to
ensure the women's vows were respected.

While they chose to become self-combed, even running away to do so when
their parents disapproved, most came from poor households.

"Often, their families couldn't offer good dowries. Their status would be
even lower than an ordinary girl's in their new family," said Ye. "They
were also the eldest daughters and might already be the main labourer.
Their siblings had not grown up to replace them and, if they married, the
main income source was gone." Others became self-combed because factories
refused to hire those they feared might marry and give birth.

"Women were afraid of marrying a bad man," said Liang, adding that local
men gambled and smoked opium. "If you got married, you had to give birth
to children and raise them and work very hard for the family."

Women who married joined their husband's family, at the bottom of the
hierarchy. "All their labour went to the in-laws and became their duty.
The in-law family would never be grateful; it was what was supposed to be
done. Their status was very low," said Ye.

In contrast, self-combed women could enjoy the gratitude of brothers and
take pride in their contribution.

Because of their long working hours, factory workers often slept by their
machines. In Zhaoqing, another town in the Pearl river delta, they lived
as a community. Some are thought to have formed romantic or sexual
relationships.

When the Wall Street Crash led to the collapse of the silk industry, many
went to Singapore as servants. Huang spent decades there, sending money
home to her brother and nephew. "We never thought about ourselves. We
never did anything for ourselves," she said.
While some see the custom as a daring challenge to strict Confucian
patriarchy, others think it more complex.

"Superficially, it looks very different to what we thought about
traditional Chinese women. People tend to think it was a phenomenon of
rebellion," said Ye. "It's true that women did choose to be zishunü. But
almost all of them emphasised the relationship with their natural family
and very traditional values such as filial piety."

The practice began to die out as the clan system disintegrated amid the
turmoil of the 30s and 40s. The marriage law passed by the new Communist
state in 1950 rang its final death knell by raising the minimum marital
age, banning polygamy and forced or arranged matches, and granting women
equality.

Some of Liang's peers married, but most of those who had taken the vow
continued to live by it, sending home half their income or more. One sent
80% of her earnings every month, said Ye.

Decades later, some could recall each word of their letters from home:
proof of a rare indulgence on the part of workers who otherwise scraped
by. Illiterate, they paid other people to reread the letters until they
knew them by heart.

With no pensions, some adopted daughters to look after them in their old
age. Others sent home a portion of their wages to construct the red-tiled
pillars and aqua arches of the Hall of Ice and Jade. It still holds the
memorial tablets of the dead. Having left their families, their names
could not stand alongside those of their parents.

But the last resident moved out years ago. Now Shatou's 10
remainingzishunü live with nephews and nieces or in care homes, with
government allowances. Some of the 12 children Liang raised for employers
come to visit her.

She feels no envy for today's women and their unimaginable choices.

"It's still hard to find a good man," said Liang. If a man is poor, his
wife will have to struggle; if a man is rich, he may take a mistress, she
said.

She leant forward.

"Good for you," she added. "You have an education, and you've travelled."

Additional research by Cecily Huang