Beijia Ge’s work duties change on an hourly basis.
The Kingston, Ont., resident might be chatting with Chinese students about their secrets and challenges, or helping someone pack a suitcase, or baking cakes with a senior citizen.
“If you are alone on your birthday but still want someone to sing birthday songs or take photos for you, I am here for you. If you are sick and need company, I am here for you,” read Ge’s ads in Chinese on social media.
Ge, 38, is part of Canada’s companionship industry that is growing among the Chinese diaspora.
Dozens of people are offering rent-a-friend services on Xiaohongshu, a social media platform also known as Little Red Book or China’s Instagram, in cities including Vancouver, Calgary and Toronto.
Sociologists and other experts suggest the phenomenon of paid companionship is due in part to a sense of isolation among some new immigrants.
Ge charges about $20 an hour. She’s not a professional therapist, but she’s surprised how easily clients open up and share their vulnerabilities with her.
“One of the students felt helpless since her parents forced her to pursue a major she hates, she didn’t do well at school and she felt scared to let her parents know about her struggles,” said Ge in an interview in Mandarin.
She added that some conversations with her clients left very emotional.
“Companionship can help people vent out their negative thoughts and release stress, and they don’t need to worry about being judged since I am a stranger,” said Ge, “It’s just like writing in a diary.”
Qian Liu, an assistant professor in the department of sociology at the University of Calgary, said the companionship economy has been an emerging trend in China, associated with isolation and loneliness in its cities, as well as social stigmas attached to mental health in East Asia.
Liu said Chinese immigrants “heavily rely” on Chinese social media for information, so it’s not surprising the same social phenomenon is emerging in diaspora communities.
Liu said “loneliness, isolation, and the lack of a sense of belonging” are key issues in her research with Chinese-speaking immigrants.
But other factors could be high living costs in Canadian cities, encouraging Chinese immigrants to get creative about making money, while some may see it “as a way to be connected with their communities.”
Zed Zhipeng Gao, an assistant professor of psychology at the American University of Paris, said most people who use companionship services are new immigrants who don’t have an existing social network in Canada, and linguistic or cultural barriers can make their lives difficult.
Gao, who lived in Toronto for two years and Vancouver for 12,said in Asian culture, seeking counselling for mental health was associated with social stigma. Companionship services could be filling the gap, he said.
Carolina Hu, 37, from Richmond, B.C., has been providing companionship services for several months.
She says she’s frequently hired by Chinese-speaking newcomers to explore Richmond and Vancouver to get a taste of living in Canada.
Most recently, she has been hired as a shopping buddy.
Hu, who charges about $40 per hour, said newcomers can feel hesitant about exploring their cities due to the language barrier, and companionship services “help them have a smooth transition to the local society.”
“Many newcomers didn’t know where to find their community, but spending time with them to walk around their neighborhood and share my immigration journey with them can bring them a sense of belonging and comfort,” Hu said in Mandarin.
The mother of two sons said she loves her part-time job because of it is a flexible schedule.
“Many immigrants feel a sense of emptiness after moving to a new country, and they feel very lonely,” said Hu, “It’s also difficult for them to share struggles with their old friends back in their hometown.”
Liu said this was another factor in the appeal of paid companionship — some immigrants feel reluctant to complain to family and friends in home countries who think they are “having great lives in Canada.”
“In a sense, this could be about saving face,” said Liu, “In other words, it does not necessarily mean that they trust strangers more than close friends and family members.”
Sharing secrets and struggles with people outside their network may not have as much impact on their everyday lives and reputations, said Liu.
David Li, 24, is new to the companionship industry. Unlike Ge and Hu, he offers only one service — Li accompanies people on hikes.
“Personal introduction: I am a Leo man, I am five-feet and 10-inches tall and my weight is 85 kilograms. I hold a field leader hike certification, and I have been to Golden Ears, Tricouni Peak, Mount MacFarlane, and many other famous hiking spots in B.C.,” his social media ads read.
He offers to help carry a backpack during hikes, but “please don’t make it ridiculously heavy.”
Li, from Richmond, B.C., has a full-time job with a company that builds medical gas pipeline systems. In his spare time, he charges about $400 for eight hours of hiking.
He wants to be more than just a paid guide though. Li said he wants to find friends to explore nature.
“I believe going on a hike with like-minded people is good for mental health,” Li said in an interview in Mandarin. “If clients feel a bit emotional and lonely, I hope they can feel more uplifted through my company.”
As the companionship industry grows, safety issues and other concerns are emerging.
Ge said she only accepts female clients for security reasons, while Hu said she only welcomes female and family clients. Both avoid going out at night.
Li said many “scammers” had reached out to him via his ads.
One person who spoke to The Canadian Press about their companionship services declined to be named — because they worried about being flagged by the Canada Revenue Agency for being paid under the table.
Gao, at American University, said he could see the “versatile” companionship industry meets many diverse needs, but he worries about the safety of those who offer the services.
www.thestar.com
The Kingston, Ont., resident might be chatting with Chinese students about their secrets and challenges, or helping someone pack a suitcase, or baking cakes with a senior citizen.
“If you are alone on your birthday but still want someone to sing birthday songs or take photos for you, I am here for you. If you are sick and need company, I am here for you,” read Ge’s ads in Chinese on social media.
Ge, 38, is part of Canada’s companionship industry that is growing among the Chinese diaspora.
Dozens of people are offering rent-a-friend services on Xiaohongshu, a social media platform also known as Little Red Book or China’s Instagram, in cities including Vancouver, Calgary and Toronto.
Sociologists and other experts suggest the phenomenon of paid companionship is due in part to a sense of isolation among some new immigrants.
Ge charges about $20 an hour. She’s not a professional therapist, but she’s surprised how easily clients open up and share their vulnerabilities with her.
“One of the students felt helpless since her parents forced her to pursue a major she hates, she didn’t do well at school and she felt scared to let her parents know about her struggles,” said Ge in an interview in Mandarin.
She added that some conversations with her clients left very emotional.
“Companionship can help people vent out their negative thoughts and release stress, and they don’t need to worry about being judged since I am a stranger,” said Ge, “It’s just like writing in a diary.”
Qian Liu, an assistant professor in the department of sociology at the University of Calgary, said the companionship economy has been an emerging trend in China, associated with isolation and loneliness in its cities, as well as social stigmas attached to mental health in East Asia.
Liu said Chinese immigrants “heavily rely” on Chinese social media for information, so it’s not surprising the same social phenomenon is emerging in diaspora communities.
Liu said “loneliness, isolation, and the lack of a sense of belonging” are key issues in her research with Chinese-speaking immigrants.
But other factors could be high living costs in Canadian cities, encouraging Chinese immigrants to get creative about making money, while some may see it “as a way to be connected with their communities.”
Zed Zhipeng Gao, an assistant professor of psychology at the American University of Paris, said most people who use companionship services are new immigrants who don’t have an existing social network in Canada, and linguistic or cultural barriers can make their lives difficult.
Gao, who lived in Toronto for two years and Vancouver for 12,said in Asian culture, seeking counselling for mental health was associated with social stigma. Companionship services could be filling the gap, he said.
Carolina Hu, 37, from Richmond, B.C., has been providing companionship services for several months.
She says she’s frequently hired by Chinese-speaking newcomers to explore Richmond and Vancouver to get a taste of living in Canada.
Most recently, she has been hired as a shopping buddy.
Hu, who charges about $40 per hour, said newcomers can feel hesitant about exploring their cities due to the language barrier, and companionship services “help them have a smooth transition to the local society.”
“Many newcomers didn’t know where to find their community, but spending time with them to walk around their neighborhood and share my immigration journey with them can bring them a sense of belonging and comfort,” Hu said in Mandarin.
The mother of two sons said she loves her part-time job because of it is a flexible schedule.
“Many immigrants feel a sense of emptiness after moving to a new country, and they feel very lonely,” said Hu, “It’s also difficult for them to share struggles with their old friends back in their hometown.”
Liu said this was another factor in the appeal of paid companionship — some immigrants feel reluctant to complain to family and friends in home countries who think they are “having great lives in Canada.”
“In a sense, this could be about saving face,” said Liu, “In other words, it does not necessarily mean that they trust strangers more than close friends and family members.”
Sharing secrets and struggles with people outside their network may not have as much impact on their everyday lives and reputations, said Liu.
David Li, 24, is new to the companionship industry. Unlike Ge and Hu, he offers only one service — Li accompanies people on hikes.
“Personal introduction: I am a Leo man, I am five-feet and 10-inches tall and my weight is 85 kilograms. I hold a field leader hike certification, and I have been to Golden Ears, Tricouni Peak, Mount MacFarlane, and many other famous hiking spots in B.C.,” his social media ads read.
He offers to help carry a backpack during hikes, but “please don’t make it ridiculously heavy.”
Li, from Richmond, B.C., has a full-time job with a company that builds medical gas pipeline systems. In his spare time, he charges about $400 for eight hours of hiking.
He wants to be more than just a paid guide though. Li said he wants to find friends to explore nature.
“I believe going on a hike with like-minded people is good for mental health,” Li said in an interview in Mandarin. “If clients feel a bit emotional and lonely, I hope they can feel more uplifted through my company.”
As the companionship industry grows, safety issues and other concerns are emerging.
Ge said she only accepts female clients for security reasons, while Hu said she only welcomes female and family clients. Both avoid going out at night.
Li said many “scammers” had reached out to him via his ads.
One person who spoke to The Canadian Press about their companionship services declined to be named — because they worried about being flagged by the Canada Revenue Agency for being paid under the table.
Gao, at American University, said he could see the “versatile” companionship industry meets many diverse needs, but he worries about the safety of those who offer the services.
The rent-a-friend industry is booming among Canada’s Chinese diaspora
Dozens of people are offering rent-a-friend services on Xiaohongshu, a social media platform also known as Little Red Book or China's Instagram, in cities including Vancouver, Calgary and Toronto.
www.thestar.com
