Arranged marriages were once a fact of life in most societies. Hong Kong is no exception, and the practice continues to thrive – and offer employment opportunities for the enterprising – in other guises.
In traditional societies all over the world, the potential for young people to meet suitable marriage partners from outside their immediate family circle was limited. From Spain and Italy to India and China, postpubescent girls were kept home to safeguard their virginity, and allowed out only under close chaperon. Relative seclusion ensured that their marriage prospects remained “untainted” by gossip, and – other than a fleeting glimpse among others at a religious gathering or a wedding party – they were largely unseen.
Exceptions were festivals where the unmarried were permitted to exchange glances and, perhaps, a few words. This was considered sensible as young people whose lives were being arranged at least had some chance to sight a possible intended and give some form of assent – or otherwise.
Most families recognised that forcing two people who clearly could not bear the sight, far less the touch of one another to be together was a recipe for unhappiness. In addition, family, clan and village enmities could be easily caused by a forced marriage.
How were these disasters prevented? Neutral, paid intermediaries were the solution, and the role of matchmaker evolved. In most societies, these go-betweens were seen as a necessary evil. The best (or most successful) matchmakers were those who astutely combined their eye for the main chance with considerable gossip-mongering skill. Their profit margin came from being able to play up the positive aspects of each potential match, plausibly play down any reputed negative characteristics and identify and rectify problematic situations before they became significant obstacles.
Overwhelmingly, matchmakers were older married or widowed women with now-adult children and time on their hands. More respectable market women, who were in a position to see and hear a great deal of what was going on in their immediate community, perhaps from a sideline in itinerant hawking through the villages, also became go-betweens. Their work brought them in contact with other hawkers in more outlying districts, with whom they could exchange information about families with sons or daughters soon to enter the marriage market.
Shrewdness and discretion were vital; it was in their interest to know exactly what was going on, where and with whom, but not be too obviously the district busybody, either. Delicate dowry negotiations were generally handled by the matchmaker, who was then held responsible – fairly or otherwise – for any complications that may arise. Success flowed from being trusted and liked, at least to some degree, by all parties. Well into the 1950s, most inter-village marriages across the New Territories were brokered by professional matchmakers, as anthropological studies from this period attest.
These roles continue today and are particularly important with cross-border marriage arrangements. A mainland widow in her 30s with a school-age child might not be an obvious marital prospect for affluent Hong Kong men, but for someone from a more humble background, a companion providing a housekeeper function (the traditional role for a spouse in pre-romantic-love societies) in return for financial stability is often acceptable. For the more affluent, time-poor, or those with specific personal requirements, “dating agencies” seek to match up potential partners, with varying degrees of success. The skill sets for a modern matchmaker are much the same as in earlier generations; only the name has changed.
