My immigrant mother’s love language was not hugging and kissing, but rather cutting mangoes into neat cubes and plating it neatly for us, while she scraped the remaining fruit off the pit with her teeth for herself. As Sae-ri observes, “The American marriage is talking and hugging. But that is not the Korean marriage. The Korean marriage is — what. It is one day after the other. It is the breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Immediately swipe left on pictures of non-Asian men wearing conical hats in China. However, if your otherwise “normal” date begins to wax philosophic about their travels in Asia to impress you, they may be harboring Western imperialistic ideals — bonus points for a white savior complex.