Hong Bao mis-steps

In the last two years I thought that I had advanced far in the art of Spring Festival hong bao giving. Foreign friends and I would discuss how much was the right amount to give ayi, drivers, and, in my case, Chinese teachers. I watched Chinese friends give them out to children of friends and to all the kids at church. Myles himself raked in hundreds last year. Priests were tricky; I didn’t want to give too little or too much, and I was afraid to ask anyone. My American-ness still made it difficult to talk money, especially across cultural lines.

This year, my first Chinese New Year in Beijing, I tried to prepare my hong bao ahead of time. The first day of Chun Jie was a Sunday. I wasn’t sure how many children we would encounter at Mass the next day, but I’ve noticed less than 20. I emptied purses and pockets all over the apartment to find enough small bills (10 RMB) to fill the 16 red envelopes. I had one more red envelope in which I placed two one-hundred RMB bills for our regular Sunday driver. Based on my experience in Shenzhen, this seemed to be the correct amount for the occasional employee (like a teacher or a maid), a full extra day/session of pay.

Sunday morning we climbed into the car, wishing our driver Chun Jie Yu Kuai! Myles gave him a box of candy we made the previous day and our hong bao. He seemed a little surprised but I thought it was the least we could do. He asked the previous Sunday if the church would be on vacation for Spring Festival. I laughed and said that the Church is never on vacation. I asked him repeatedly if he would rather not drive on Sunday and have the vacation, but he kept saying, no problem.

There were very few children at Mass on Sunday. I tried to give a few of them hong bao after dismissal, and their mothers pleasantly refused. Then I saw that no one else was giving out hong bao, not even to the priest (though he wasn’t one of our usual celebrants). I returned to the car with all sixteen hong bao, a little embarrassed. I asked our driver if Beijing children didn’t get hong bao for Spring Festival. In Shenzhen, I told him, the kids and their parents were more than happy to exchange them, even at church. He said that in Beijing children only received hong bao from close family members or best friends. This is true for Shenzhen, too, but I guess at our parish the atmosphere was more family-like than at our parish in Beijing. Myles received hong bao from people I barely recognized as church members. He also received them, too, from chicken bar owners when we lived in that part of Shekou, friends of Randy’s, and other adults. As I mentioned before, Myles raked in hundreds from his hong bao.

My hong bao misadventures were not yet to end. When we returned home and I opened my wallet to pay for our morning ride, he waved me off. Chun Jie Kuai Le, he said. My hong bao was too much apparently.