Having decided he had found his ideal mate, he plucked up the courage in just a short three months to pop the question--could you make the same claim? Especially 42 years ago.
Let's go back in time to 1946, at Harvard's Widener Library. A 32-year-old government-sponsored graduate student in economics named Yu Kuo-hwa runs into a young woman named Toong Metsung, who had come to America to study as one of the first group of self-supported Chinese students from Chungking. They had met once before at the home of the mayor of Chung-king, where Yu even gave her a few pointers on her bridge game.
But getting a date with this quick-witted and sensitive top-notch Radcliffe student was no easy matter. She had received a strict Western-style gentlewoman's education: she studied at Hong Kong University, and was a graduate of McTyeire Elementary School in Shanghai and St. Mary's Hall. Dates had to be arranged a week in advance. She would not accept gifts from any man other than a committed "boyfriend." Her traditional upbringing showed itself in her dress--she customarily wore a Chinese ch'i pao--and the social life she chose--she did not take going out with the opposite sex lightly.
Madame Yu recalls that "I was moved by Mr. Yu's sincerity; he made me feel that he was someone I could count on for life. In fact, though, he's not at all one to cater to women. If he ever asked me out and I told him I didn't have time, he wouldn't try in the least to push the matter, and would just say, 'O.K., next week then'."
Now approaching their 42nd wedding anniversary, being a wife to this fine husband who has dedicated his life to his country means being understanding and making allowances. He can't remember family birthdays, and though he has nothing against helping out around the house, he just doesn't have enough leftover time or energy to really do it. He must spend most of his after-hours time at home on unfinished official business and on reviewing all manner of materials. But all these "shortcomings" are taken into stride with understanding.
The little incident described below is a classic anecdote of the Yu family.
When their eldest son was born in Washington, D.C., Mrs. Yu's mother was unable to come all the way to the United States and help her daughter with the month of recuperation and special diet required by Chinese tradition. Mother-in-law then wrote to son-in-law exhorting him to be sure to stew a chicken for the postpartum mother, to help her regain her strength. The excited new father headed for Chinatown, brought back a whole chicken, and put it to boil in a water-filled pot. He then sat down to relax with a book while waiting for his masterpiece to get done. Eight hours later he sprang out of his literary daze only to discover that the pot was completely boiled dry and beginning to scorch. With great effort, he eked out a small bowl of thick, oily, and highly concentrated "chicken soup", poured it into a thermos bottle, and presented it proudly to Mrs. Yu at the hospital. Although it didn't go down very easily, the obliging wife played along for the sake of Mr. Yu's pride, and finished all of it.
Devoting his full energy to his work makes Premier Yu able to pay only lip service to his role as "house husband." But having grown up as a middle son--his next brother up is eight years his elder and the next one down eight years younger--and being in between one elder and two younger sisters helped shape his filial devotion to his mother, the selfless caring and concern he shows to family and friends, and his generosity and straightforwardness. Through his 53 years of constant service at the sides of the late Presidents Chiang Kai-shek and Chiang Ching-kuo, he experienced many momentous events, such as the Canton-Kwangsi Incident, the Sian Incident, a state visit to India, the Cairo Conference, and so forth, and met men of the caliber of Gandhi, Roosevelt, and Churchill face to face. Throughout the turbulence of the treacherous political environment of the time, meeting new assaults head on tempered in him a steely will, solidity, selflessness, and a knowledge of when to hold one's ground and when to take action. His successes came gradually but steadily.
"My father Tso Ping Yu sacrificed himself gloriously in the revolution when I was 11 and in the fifth grade at Hsiencheng Elementary School in Fenghua, Chekiang. Later I studied half a year at Tinghai Middle School in Choushan, an island of Chekiang. Because the revolution was already gathering momentum, and students were taking to the streets all over the country, and because Choushan was so far away from my home, I asked myself, why not do preparatory studies in nearby Ningpo, then continue my schooling? It happened that a schoolmate of mine was preparing to take the senior high school entrance exam for the Ningpo Fourth Middle School, and he asked me to join him. I took the exam as a personal test and challenge. Who would have known that I would actually be accepted, and the schoolmate who talked me into it in the first place unfortunately wasn't?"
Because Mr. Yu Kuo-hwa went straight into his freshman year in high school when he was only halfway through the fifth grade, he was able to graduate from the Ningpo Fourth Middle School when he was just 16. He then went on to study at Kwanghwa University in Shanghai. However, in his second year, he, along with another classmate, participated in an exam for transferring to Tsinghua University in Peking. Again, only Yu was accepted. From this time on, he resided in northern China, majoring in political science at Tsinghua.
This pursuit of knowledge, filled with twists and turns, fully demonstrates his motivation and active struggle to learn. In 1934, this young, freshly-graduated university student joined the military field headquarters of the military council at Nanchang, Wuchang, and Chungking. In 1936 he was chosen to serve under the president of the National Military Council, Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek, as his personal secretary. In all he did, he earned affirmation and opportunity through plain hard work and an indefatigable quest for progress. His keys to higher and greater success have been confidence, decisiveness, and a spirit of refusing to bend to hardship.
Going to the United States, then later to the London School of Economics and Political Science to study economics was a major turning point in the young Yu's life.
Mr. Yu's recollections of his austere life of study and self-education amid the clamor of world war are bittersweet.
"At Harvard I not only received the guidance of outstanding teachers and met many distinguished people, I also married a fine wife, and brought her along to England. The war had just ended then, and war price controls and rationing were still in effect--we could only get one egg a week. There was a general shortage of goods, and schools had almost no facilities to speak of. Campus life consisted of going to classes and studying at home, and not much else. But in this way I did get a solid foundation in financial and economic theory."
Metsung looks back with fondness not only on the happy days she spent abroad at Yu's side when he was a student, but also on the seven years they lived in the United States after Yu had finished his studies, when he served in the International Bank for Reconstruction (alternate executive director) and Development and the International Monetary Fund (alternate executive director).
"Our two children were born and grew up during this time. The parks of Washington, D.C. were their playgrounds."
Yu held the position of alternate executive director first of the bank, then of the fund. His job was to approve loans to member countries, used for postwar reconstruction and economic development in less developed areas, to help raise the living standards of the people. He often had to objectively study and analyze the economies and financial situations of various countries, and work towards rectification of international imbalances of payments. Financial and economic leaders and experts from around the world were their regular guests. He constantly immersed himself in studying how to apply economic theory to practical problems. Often Mrs. Yu would have liked to ask for some help changing a diaper, but then didn't have the heart to disturb Mr. Yu; so she ended up shouldering the entire responsibility herself.
In these seven years, you'll find some snapshots of Premier Yu taking his sons on an outing to the park, but there is inevitably a stack of materials by his side--his "home work." And he did not often have to warm up cans of chicken noodle soup to fill his stomach. This was thanks to Metsung's decision early on to make her family her career. Even though she was kept hopping with two sons only a year apart in age, she never let her husband have reason to fret over domestic matters.
"He's the center of my life. My mother instilled in me the idea that a career as a housewife is no less respectable than one outside the home. We have to be cook, day care mother, secretary, tutor, and even a presentable companion for formal occasions. Even though we aren't paid a salary, we help save a lot of money. Especially in creating a cozy and comfortable home atmosphere, in making sure the children get a good education, in maintaining a home a husband looks forward to returning to every day, and taking care of anything ahead of time that might cause him potential worry, don't we contribute toward reducing social problems? The home is the fundamental unit of society."
Before marriage, Madame Yu was a secretary for a short time for the China Educational Foundation, and later for the Sino-British Cultural Association Library. She is fluent in the Shanghai, Canton, and Peking dialects of Chinese, as well as in English (her university major) and Spanish. The two sons she reared breezed through their studies at Tsai Hsing Elementary School, Ta An Junior High, Chien Kuo Senior High, and then the electrical engineering department of National Taiwan University. They both received doctorates in computer science from Stanford University. They then parted their ways to take on major positions at U.S. computer firms. Their father's teaching by example and their mother's teaching by precept were a major guiding force in their lives.
"Parental love and example are the main keys to family harmony. This has nothing to do with how far the parents went in school or how much money they have." Premier and Madame Yu agree on this point.
Premier Yu in the past could take on a national champion in Chinese chess and hold his own, and he is well qualified to act as a coach in bridge. But since being recalled home in 1955 to assume the position of president of the Central Trust of China, he began paying especially close attention to the forms of domestic capital to further open up Taiwan exports. He devoted himself to finding ways for the government to both save and make money. From this point on, he has not often had much free time at this disposal. His greatest pleasure has now become a plate of Chinese salted rape greens and shredded bamboo shoots stir-fried with glutinous rice cake.
"Mr. Yu plays pretty close attention to his health. He doesn't smoke, drink, or eat food that is too oily, sweet, or salty. He likes vegetarian dishes and doesn't snack. He exercises each week and has regular check-ups, so he's been able to stay in top physical condition. These are the returns on a life of regularity, and taking care of oneself." Mrs. Yu is well qualified to testify on the Premier's habits.
Premier Yu's secret to spiritual cultivation is not to engage in petty squabbles, not to act rashly, and not to talk more than necessary. It's not that he doesn't know about the games and vendettas going on in political circles; but probably from his long years in the demanding but thankless job of watching over the nation's pursestrings, his character tends toward solidity and circumspection, so over the last 20 or 30 years, he has not made many personnel changes in his staff, and has not often changed his place of residence. This is not to say that he lacks a concept of "innovation" or "development," but that he thinks each matter thoroughly and carefully through, and won't allow things to be done just any old way.
Under his cool exterior, the premier is a very loving and lovable person. He does things like drive the children all over town to look for a lost puppy.
"Peggy is an English wire haired terrier. Once she slipped out through the screen door and the kids screamed for Daddy to help find her. Daddy took the children out in the car, searching high and low, house by house. They finally found her hiding inside a church gnawing on a chicken bone." Madame Yu can't suppress a chuckle.
When Premier Yu was serving concurrently as governor of the Central Bank of China and chairman of the Council for Economic Planning and Development, he once received the Nobel prize-winning expert on free economy, Dr. Milton Friedman. As Dr. Friedman was expounding on the intricacies of an open and free economy, Premier Yu quipped, "If we all act according to your ideas, I shall be a 'free man' (playing on his guest's family name 'Friedman') and not have to worry any more about problems of the national economy."
Actually, it is the Premier's secret dream to be free from the worries of the endless affairs of state he must deal with every day, but as things stand, he never even has a day off. And he allows no overlap between what is public and what is private.
"Mr. Yu makes an unequivocal distinction between public and private affairs. He won't allow the workers who repair his office to come and repair our home. We lived in government housing on Hangchow South Road for about 20 years. It was so old it was beyond repair. We finally moved into employee housing of the Central Bank of China on Hsinyi Road, and we have been here over ten years now. We still don't have our own place. He feels that we don't have to have a really fancy place--we don't entertain much, outside of some Tsinghua University classmates, old colleagues, and close friends. And they're all used to our style of entertaining."
Metsung wasn't all that enthused at first about marrying someone in politics. She doesn't like "the feeling of riding along with the ups and downs of the sink-or-swim of political life." This is also the reason she encouraged her sons to go into a science or technology related field, and to stay out of politics.
After Mr. Yu Kuo-hwa's six-year stint as president of the Central Trust of China, he went on to be chairman of the Bank of China, then minister of finance, governor of the Central Bank of China, chairman of the Council for Economic Planning and Development, and now finally premier--all based on his rock-solid academic background. He has in the past 33 years helped steer the nation through international challenges and world economic crises, and has been lauded as the most adept financial and economic talent in the country. Even the Chinese Communists openly acknowledged Taiwan's successes in their slogan, "In the economy, learn from Taiwan." With an accomplishment like this, how could the premier just sit back and rest on his laurels? Mr. Yu Kuo-hwa has now taken on an even greater burden of responsibility, one that has initiated him into an entirely new phase of his life. One-and-a-half-year-old granddaughter Kai ling a precious gift presented to him and Mrs. Yu by son number two, has brought more than her share of happiness to her newly-promoted grandparents.
How does someone as important as premier relax from the tensions of the endless affairs he must take care of? Premier Yu's answer is, if possible, each Sunday he plays half a round (nine holes) of golf, or he takes a walk. Or he might take in a basketball or baseball game on T.V.
Playing golf was added to Mr. Yu's agenda just a few years ago, to provide opportunity for exercise. He enjoys a walk to the relatively close and convenient Sun Yatsen Memorial Hall or the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall. But when he doesn't have the luxury of even that much time on his hands, he at least squeezes in a few steps around the yard while enjoying the potted plum trees, orchids, and evergreens cultivated by Madame Yu to put him in a relaxed mood.
The "Me" part of "Metsung" is the Chinese word for "plum." From her name to the plum trees she grows to the plum blossoms she paints, "Metsung" has close and long-standing ties to the Republic of China's national flower.
"I remember the evening we were married, when we had our wedding dinner at the simply but classically decorated Commander Restaurant near Harvard Square. The Commander was right across from Metsung's School. It takes its name from the time that General Washington along with his troops of the 13 states pledged resistance against the British army on July 3, 1975. Metsung was wearing a calf-length ch'i pao hand embroidered by her mother, and sent specially from Chungking for the occasion. It was made of light blue satin, and was embroidered with plum blossoms in varying shades of pink, reflecting her rosy cheeks. She took my arm, walked gracefully forward, and when I turned my head to look at her, I was overwhelmed." Premier Yu reminisces with tenderness, and his deep affection for his wife shows in his words and actions.
"He's been the same to me all these decades together: respectful, caring and supportive. Whenever he has a little free time, the two of us go out to look at classical flower arrangements, or to Yangmingshan for a stroll. He has a high opinion of my classical Chinese painting, and has given me a lot of encouragement in my campaign to promote cleanliness and courtesy. I really should thank him for all the concern he's shown for this housewife."
Madame Yu gives her husband Premier Yu--who devotes himself to practicing the philosophies of "working to make a little progress each day" and of being a "learner for life"--a perfect 100% score.
In fact, however, the premier has never felt that he has learned or done "enough." He is constantly absorbing new knowledge and ideas extending into the 21st century. Twice each month, he has someone send him a tape recording with information on the situation in the international financial market, to help him keep on top of the newest trends in international finance as they occur. Practice has helped him improve his Mandarin pronunciation and tone down his hometown accent. Some say that he rehearses ahead of time for press conferences then answers off the cuff without notes. Premier Yu's modest, temperate and restrained style is uniquely able to get people to work together, and his strong sense of responsibility able to orchestrate the cabinet into harmony.
Traveling is an important part of Premier Yu's job, and he must often act as a special government emissary, or participate in international conferences on finance. He isn't able, however, to bring Madame Yu along very often, so any time there is a chance for the two of them to travel together, it is bound to leave a special impression on Madame Yu.
"In autumn of 1981, Mr. Yu was dispatched to Swaziland to attend the celebration of their king's 60th anniversary on the throne. It was really fascinating. The king had 130 queens and 500 princes and princesses. When he received important guests and when he held the ceremony, he followed the ancient custom for tribal chiefs: he had a bare chest, the most noble kind of clothing, and held a shield and arrows in his hands, just like an ancient warrior. He also had to come down from his platform to dance with the delegates sent from each tribe to mingle with the people." Madame Yu seemed to savor the memory.
Madame Yu has assisted the Premier a great deal in the area of actively participating in international conferences and strengthening foreign relations. For example, when attending the World Bank and International Monetary Fund annual meeting, the wife of Singapore's minister of finance, Minister Han, met with Madame Yu. Both were wearing Chinese ch'i pao, and they chatted together in Cantonese. How did this come about? Madame Yu explains:
"I was afraid that the foreign reporters might find it strange for two Chinese to talk to each other in English, so I asked Madame Han if she spoke Chinese. She replied that she spoke Cantonese, and that was the beginning of a series of lively conversations."
Madame Yu is a shining example of refined traditional Chinese femininity. She doesn't make up heavily, and has worn the same hairstyle for the past twenty years. "My skin used to be quite delicate, to the point where patting on a little powder would hurt, so I just use a little skin lotion on it. And my hair is too soft and fine to hold a hairstyle if I cut it too short, so I pin it up in a chignon. My friends won't let me cut my hair or change styles. They're used to this simple Chinese style."
Madame Yu has both Chinese and foreign friends, including the members of the Women's Garden and Art Club, which consists of a few ladies with common interest in garden and art. Besides getting together socially and enjoying fine orchids, they have undertaken a number of social projects led by Madame Yu. This is one concrete expression of modern housewives "stepping out of the kitchen."
The Yu's two sons received a total of five scholarship awards when they were students at National Taiwan University, but never came running home to brag about their achievement. This is one example of the way the Yu family handles success: concrete actions speak much louder than ostentatious words.
The two benevolent elders of this homey family have marched together, shoulder-to-shoulder, across half a century of history, supporting each other down life's splendid path, something that would inspire envy and admiration in anyone. Both in his public life and private, Premier Yu has truly reaped a bountiful harvest.
[Picture Caption]
The couple take a walk together on Yangming Mt. to celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary.
The newlyweds leave the restaurant where a banquet was held for family and friends on the evening of their wedding.
Premier and Mrs. Yu chat with some children on a visit to the National Museum of History.
Mrs. Yu made an elegant and distinguished bride.
Premier Yu's sons have been a great joy to him.
His granddaughter Kai ling is the apple of the Premier's eye.
Sharing the joys of family life with their granddaughter and younger son.
Premier Yu often kept his sons company while they studied in the parks of Washington, D.C.
The Yus and their elder son visit Window on China.
Mrs. Yu attended the ceremony at which her elder son received a doctoral degree and her younger son a master's.
Premier and Mrs. Yu had fun watching the monkeys on a trip to Leofoo Village Safari Park.
A portrait of the Premier and family.
Mrs. Yu paints a picture of plum blossoms as her husband looks on.
The Premier's wolfhound is named Lucky Ⅲ.
The newlyweds leave the restaurant where a banquet was held for family and friends on the evening of their wedding.
Premier and Mrs. Yu chat with some children on a visit to the National Museum of History.
Mrs. Yu made an elegant and distinguished bride.
Premier Yu's sons have been a great joy to him.
His granddaughter Kai ling is the apple of the Premier's eye.
Sharing the joys of family life with their granddaughter and younger son.
Premier Yu often kept his sons company while they studied in the parks of Washington, D.C.
The Yus and their elder son visit Window on China.
Mrs. Yu attended the ceremony at which her elder son received a doctoral degree and her younger son a master's.
Premier and Mrs. Yu had fun watching the monkeys on a trip to Leofoo Village Safari Park.
A portrait of the Premier and family.
Mrs. Yu paints a picture of plum blossoms as her husband looks on.
The Premier's wolfhound is named Lucky Ⅲ.
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