Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me A Match

My cousin broke the mold last year by being the first person in both our immediate and extended families to marry outside our culture. She didn't stray too far as the Husband is still asian, but I'm sure my aunt and uncle took little comfort in this fact. Though they came to love and accept him as a member of the family, in an ideal world they would have chosen differently for their daughter: preferably a Vietnamese doctor, dentist, pharmacist or computer engineer with a melodic singing voice, which he would use to serenade her during the Karaoke portion of their wedding reception.

My cousins and I are first generation Canadians & Americans. Few of us speak our native tongue and those of us who do do so with heavy North American accents. (I've often served as Interpreter between older and younger relatives.) Nevertheless, prior to the above-mentioned scandal, those who had married, including my own siblings, married within our culture. I was surprised to see a recent wedding photo of my Texan Cheerleader Cousin - who had previously had a penchant for African-American men - with her new Vietnamese husband. See? My parents crowed triumphantly. See?

How can I marry a Vietnamese guy if I don't even know any Vietnamese people? I once explained to my parents. As soon as the words were out of my mouth I wanted to eat them. Too late. That was my mother's cue to don her brocaded robes and gleefully assume the role of Village Matchmaker, much to my chagrin. I allowed her to trick me into two (completely disastrous) meetings (Why don't you come over for dinner? OH! But who could THAT be at the door?) with greasy-haired middle-aged virgins before permanently revoking her matchmaking privileges.

It's hard to enough to find a decent man of any race, much less one who speaks the same language that I (barely) speak. I am more open-minded now about the (remote) possibility of ending up with a Vietnamese Husband than I used to be, though I have yet to date an asian guy. If it happens someday then great, but what I won't do is go out looking specifically for it. This includes going to "Asian Night" at local clubs or to those that cater to primarily asian clientele. It just seems unnatural and uncomfortable and I don't see the point. My parents are doing their best to be supportive of my choices but I know they haven't given up the dream and are hoping that I'll eventually come to my senses. Until then my mom will be waiting in the wings with a string of Vietnamese dentists ready to wow me with their stainless steel implements and moving renditions of the Vietnamese national anthem.