Helping to find love is matchmaker’s best return on investment

On stage, girls wearing masks take turns introducing themselves. Meanwhile, men sitting behind two rows of desks offstage express their interest by turning on a light on their desk.

They are taking part in a dating event held at a matchmaking service center in Nanning, capital of southern China’s Guangxi Zhuang autonomous region. Since the center’s opening in 2015, its founder, Pang Yufang, has seen more than 2,000 people find love.

China has a long tradition of matchmaking. In ancient times, professional matchmakers were part of the pre-marriage ritual. They served as an intermediary for the parents of both families, who made the final call.

Nowadays, matchmaking takes a more liberal form but is still prevalent in television shows and in “matchmaking corners” in big city parks, where parents display their children’s personal information like age and income on cardboard signs, hoping to find suitable matches for them.

At Pang’s center, more than 40,000 people have signed up, and some 300 volunteers work to examine and sift through documents.

Volunteers invite guests they think are suitable to the events, and another 70 to 90 people sit in the audience. Men and women take turns introducing themselves on stage, and will contact potential matches after the event.

“Our events are different from TV shows where only the guests interact. Our agency often sees the guests and members of the audience click with each other,” Pang said.

Volunteers at the center are mostly retirees like Pang who are keen to help young people find love.

“The volunteers often bring people they know to the agency,” Pang said. “And unlike online dating, face-to-face communication allows people to get to know each other better.”

Pang’s nonprofit center started as a personal project of the 53-year-old, who was Party secretary of a local community in Nanning.

Many of her neighbors, espe- cially anxious parents looking for a partner for their children, asked her to help them because of her large community network.

“A friend of mine who suffered from a stroke and had difficulty walking came to me one day and asked me to find someone for her daughter,” Pang said.

Anxious parents motivated Pang to set up a nonprofit matchmaking agency after her retirement in 2015.

“My pension was 1,500 yuan ($223) back then, and the rent for our agency was at least 1,800 yuan,” Pang said. She used her savings to run the matchmaking center and found a part-time job.

As the popularity of her center grew, more people came and it moved to a larger venue earlier last year. Though monthly expenses skyrocketed to 8,000 yuan, Pang still refused business endorsements.

To keep the center going, Pang decided to charge new members 40 yuan this year.

“I want to keep it pure, and don’t want our clients to get harassed by calls from businesses,” she said.

For Pang, the love she helps new couples find is the best return on her investment.

“I love it when I receive calls from people telling me they are getting married and invite me to their weddings,” she said.