Chapter 4: China College Life and the Segregation of Genders

四

“Nearly Every English Major Female, Nearly Every STEM Major Male”

Lijian was surprised at first, and still, it made him somewhat uncomfortable, that his class was nearly all girls. Out of his class’s 100 students, there were only 5 boys. In most of his subjects, he was one of only two or three boys. Aside from Lijian, always in the front of the class (with the sole exception being his Oral English class) the few other English major boys would often sit nervously, huddled next to one another, in the farthest reaches of their estrogen-filled lecture halls and classrooms.

Lijian couldn’t figure out why, why there were so few boys in his class ... Why was it that, in his college, boys and girls were separated by majors? Nearly every English major was female, and nearly every STEM major, Business major was male...

The girls at college appeared so different from those at his high school, too, appearing more like K-pop girl group stars than college students. They had long hair, short hair, curly hair, hair dyed every single color of the rainbow.

Instead of loose sweatsuit-like high school uniforms, many wore low-cut shirts, short skirts, short shorts, silk stockings, fishnet stockings, tight jeans, thigh-high boots, and stiletto heels. Some had breasts the size of watermelons. Some had glittery painted fingernails almost as long as cigarettes.

And the makeup, like Dou Dou, many were caked in makeup, blazing red lipsticks. He’d never seen such girls, girls looking like that, aside from in music videos and films.

Lijian would find himself, late at night, in his dormitory room, with the curtain drawn over his combo desk/bunk bed, at times unable to sleep as he’d fight to resist his impure, immoral thoughts of the girls in his class, the girls around campus. The carnal thoughts flitting through his head. His lewd ruminations swinging on a mental jungle gym of images, images of girls, images of his classmates’ slender bodies ... The images occupying, tormenting his mind.

Especially his immoral thoughts of Dou Dou, who’d sit in front of him in the Oral English class. Dou Dou, goddess-like in her aura, the sweet smell of her perfume curling into his nostrils. How the young girl would lean forward in her seat, exposing the tip of her lacy panties.

But he’d persevere! Vanquish the impure thoughts tormenting his psyche. He’d flashback to the cool fall day. Standing atop the massive jaw of bone-gray concrete steps, outside the campus library, looking down and watching the baboon, Wilson, and Dou Dou, the pair ambling together, smiling and clucking under the yellowing leaves of autumnal trees. Then he’d remind himself that she was a whore. A white-worshipping whore!

Then he’d silence his mind with the soothing sounds of patriotic PLA songs, Chairman Mao and Chairman Xi’s speeches, and comforting images of hypersonic missile attacks on US warships, nuclear attacks on Japan.

Once, when experiencing impure thoughts about Dou Dou’s body, Lijian found himself remembering the Soviets’ “honeypot” traps.

But no! NO! No, not here! Chinese would never resort to such heathenry, he assured himself. While Lijian loved Stalin and Lenin, he often looked down on most of the Russians, especially that rat-faced Gorbachev. Lijian thought of most Russians as only one step up from British and American scum. Thought of them as pathetic losers for abandoning the glorious cause of Communism, for betraying Socialism...

But then he’d be calmed again, thinking that the collapse of the USSR was further proof of the superiority of Socialism with Chinese Characteristics, and of China’s superiority over all other nations! Lijian becalmed himself knowing that China, Glorious Mother China, and its illustrious 5000 years of history would always be NUMBER ONE!

Despite his heartbreak, disappointment in Dou Dou, Lijian persisted in his efforts to learn the imperialists’ inferior language. And he was successful, even winning a speech contest and an essay contest in his first semester, the only freshman to ever accomplish that feat.

It was days after he’d won the essay contest, and its ¥1000 prize (which he’d immediately sent home to his grandparents) that he received a text message from his department chair, summoning him to a meeting, saying someone very important wished to speak with him.