For reasons not totally unbeknownst to me, but certainly unnecessarily, I've been placing a lot of stress on myself this last week. Issues with unruly students have been coming to a head lately making my working day just a smidge less than tolerable, resulting in a tired and grumpy Chi-Hé. And she's not someone you wanna reckon with. But above all, today was the day that I would potentially take the unprecedented leap from BEGINNER to INTERMEDIATE level Korean class.
Now it wasn't that I wanted to level up for self-congratulatory purposes. I'm not really about to bust a gut over something that is ultimately a hobby with beneficial outcomes. For instance, if I felt I could do with the extra practice I would willingly - perhaps voluntarily, as I have previously done - retake a class. But it wasn't about how good I felt I was; it was about how good I felt I was in comparison to other people. Feeling that I was on a par with my classmates, the fact that the fate of my progress was at the mercy of a subjective aural/oral test and the whim of my teacher made me feel a little uneasy.
The teacher composed the level test as a kind of on-going competition, whereby each time you formed an accurate sentence or answered a question correctly you would score one point (or two, or three, depending on the generosity of the teacher at that particular moment; as I say: subjective). Now, by half-time I was already ahead. Not necessarily because I was the best, but because I was the most keen.
I often go out of my way not to be the irritating student who calls out all the answers as a Miss-Know-It-All. In fact, being a teacher, I now FULLY appreciate the merits of waiting one's turn and giving other students a chance. However, since there was a competition in play, I naturally made today an exception.
The fact that everybody in the class passed the test is irrelevant. The fact that I tripled some people's scores due to my speedy hand-in-the-air is clearly what matters.
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Friday, June 27, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Death by fan
"Death by fan?" you ask. "So what's this all about?"
People (and this is limited to the people of South Korea) believe that if you leave an electric fan on overnight you will die. That's right: die. One can only assume that Koreans are more susceptible to death by fan than the rest of the world so, being half Korean, my level of risk is significantly increased.
So, it is thus that I endure the ever-increasing heat and humidity and attempt to embrace sleep without my trusty electric fan. Air-con is just a no-no for me; the dry recycled air that leads to a twitching nose and a scratchy throat can stay put while the weather is still tolerable.
However, despite managing to fall asleep reasonably easily, at the strike of 04:00 this morning I found myself rolling around in a sweat, internally complaining about the heat. To make things worse, my ears caught a glimpse of that incessant whine that cannot be mistaken for anything but a hungry mosquito. Now, once you know one of those is in the room, sleep just doesn't come easily. You try to remember that it's going to bite you whether you are asleep or not, but this is not always a comforting bedtime thought.
After giving the air-con a whirl to ease my discomfort I finally drifted off, inevitably to wake up to find the little booger had bitten me no less than three painstakingly itchy times, with a collection of nibbles thrown in for good measure. I may have to risk the possibility of death by fan in order to keep myself dormant as flying insects make a meal of me. Alternatively, I could buy some repellent.
People (and this is limited to the people of South Korea) believe that if you leave an electric fan on overnight you will die. That's right: die. One can only assume that Koreans are more susceptible to death by fan than the rest of the world so, being half Korean, my level of risk is significantly increased.
So, it is thus that I endure the ever-increasing heat and humidity and attempt to embrace sleep without my trusty electric fan. Air-con is just a no-no for me; the dry recycled air that leads to a twitching nose and a scratchy throat can stay put while the weather is still tolerable.
However, despite managing to fall asleep reasonably easily, at the strike of 04:00 this morning I found myself rolling around in a sweat, internally complaining about the heat. To make things worse, my ears caught a glimpse of that incessant whine that cannot be mistaken for anything but a hungry mosquito. Now, once you know one of those is in the room, sleep just doesn't come easily. You try to remember that it's going to bite you whether you are asleep or not, but this is not always a comforting bedtime thought.
After giving the air-con a whirl to ease my discomfort I finally drifted off, inevitably to wake up to find the little booger had bitten me no less than three painstakingly itchy times, with a collection of nibbles thrown in for good measure. I may have to risk the possibility of death by fan in order to keep myself dormant as flying insects make a meal of me. Alternatively, I could buy some repellent.
Sticklers unite!
There are some standard questions one is destined to encounter on striking up conversation with a fellow Westerner or local alike.
"How long have you been in Korea?"
"What are you doing here?"
"What was your major?" ("Well, I didn't minor in anything...")
"Math? And you're an English teacher?"
It doesn't seem logical. Of course when you realise that your job requirements are a degree and a native passport, what it says on your graduation certificate is of little importance as long as you know a few English idioms.
I realise I'm teaching kindergarten. I can barely get them to sit still let alone sit through a lesson on plurals. I do teach a class of predominantly enthusiastic nine year old girls once a day, and in exchange for cute stickers I get my fix of basic grammatical and spelling quizzes in. It doesn't quite cut it, though.
If you're a fellow pedant, perfectionist or downright obsessive, and we've ever had an online chat (or indeed offline, but the spoken word is so much more subjective, especially if we're not from the same country, or indeed county) you may have been subject to a correction or two. In fact, I like nothing more than to be corrected myself, to then do nothing less than shake my head in disbelief and hide in shame as I see I've just pressed "enter" to the opening, "So, its just that..." Admittedly my apostrophe key does stick and has often been victim of severe banging to get the little dash in place, but this is often a case of a bad typist blaming her keyboard.
Anyway, it has occurred to me that this is why I studied maths. I'm a grammar freak; a punctuation fascist; a spelling enthusiast. I like rules, I like to stick to them, and I like things to be right.
Since I've started studying Korean more seriously, my obsessions with language have been cranked up a notch or six. How can I possibly master a foreign language if I've not even mastered my own? It's got so bad that these days I don't even trust my Korean friends to give me accurate spelling advice, and certainly any blog post is always subject to extreme scrutiny and will likely be edited for comma use several times after publishing.
So, after this morning's ponderings on the Oxford comma, I left my apartment specifically to pick myself up a copy of Lynne Truss's "Eats, Shoots & Leaves". I remember it adorning every bookshop window at home on its first publication but was never aware of its contents. How I've been missing out. In the words of an old school friend, this book is orgasmic. It is feeding my incredulity at poorly punctuated signs, and consolidating my notions of when we should or should not use that poor apostrophe. Ms. Truss deems herself a "stickler" and, on racing through this book, it is evident I am one too.
Certainly badly signed shop windows are not something that I miss about England, but my fellow stickler friends I do. There are only so many people in one's social circles that you can share a good punctuation joke with.
"How long have you been in Korea?"
"What are you doing here?"
"What was your major?" ("Well, I didn't minor in anything...")
"Math? And you're an English teacher?"
It doesn't seem logical. Of course when you realise that your job requirements are a degree and a native passport, what it says on your graduation certificate is of little importance as long as you know a few English idioms.
I realise I'm teaching kindergarten. I can barely get them to sit still let alone sit through a lesson on plurals. I do teach a class of predominantly enthusiastic nine year old girls once a day, and in exchange for cute stickers I get my fix of basic grammatical and spelling quizzes in. It doesn't quite cut it, though.
If you're a fellow pedant, perfectionist or downright obsessive, and we've ever had an online chat (or indeed offline, but the spoken word is so much more subjective, especially if we're not from the same country, or indeed county) you may have been subject to a correction or two. In fact, I like nothing more than to be corrected myself, to then do nothing less than shake my head in disbelief and hide in shame as I see I've just pressed "enter" to the opening, "So, its just that..." Admittedly my apostrophe key does stick and has often been victim of severe banging to get the little dash in place, but this is often a case of a bad typist blaming her keyboard.
Anyway, it has occurred to me that this is why I studied maths. I'm a grammar freak; a punctuation fascist; a spelling enthusiast. I like rules, I like to stick to them, and I like things to be right.
Since I've started studying Korean more seriously, my obsessions with language have been cranked up a notch or six. How can I possibly master a foreign language if I've not even mastered my own? It's got so bad that these days I don't even trust my Korean friends to give me accurate spelling advice, and certainly any blog post is always subject to extreme scrutiny and will likely be edited for comma use several times after publishing.
So, after this morning's ponderings on the Oxford comma, I left my apartment specifically to pick myself up a copy of Lynne Truss's "Eats, Shoots & Leaves". I remember it adorning every bookshop window at home on its first publication but was never aware of its contents. How I've been missing out. In the words of an old school friend, this book is orgasmic. It is feeding my incredulity at poorly punctuated signs, and consolidating my notions of when we should or should not use that poor apostrophe. Ms. Truss deems herself a "stickler" and, on racing through this book, it is evident I am one too.
Certainly badly signed shop windows are not something that I miss about England, but my fellow stickler friends I do. There are only so many people in one's social circles that you can share a good punctuation joke with.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
The Oxford Comma
A fellow syntax enthusiast enlightened me of this delightful punctuation debate. It is not directly linked to my experiences in Korea (though I admit not all my posts of late are either), though as an interesting[1] aside - and something that may influence my writing style in the future - I am feeling compelled to share it.
The Oxford comma, or serial comma, is the last comma in a list of items preceding a conjunction: usually 'and' or 'or'. The list "red, white, and blue," uses the Oxford comma yet, while being identical in meaning, the list "red, white and blue," excludes it.
Apparently it is more common practice in American English than British English, though, and I imagine hence the name, the Oxford University Press recommends its use. There are arguments both ways for its use regarding standard conventions, ambiguity and redundancy.
Personally I have found myself making a conscious decision whether or not to include this comma, but until now have been unaware of its propriety, or indeed the scale of its worldwide debate[2]. Intuitively as I write I have felt it has been incorrect to include this comma, however I have been guilty of using it in order to emulate speech in its intended manner, or indeed to use the comma instead where semi-colons might also have been appropriate.
Since language is so subjective, ever changing and open to debate, I suppose I will continue to sit on the fence on this issue, use it where I deem necessary, and continue to blog in my occasionally haphazard way.[3]
[1] another debate
[2] this is another literary device. It is not the Oxford comma itself that is doing the debating as is literally suggested, but about the Oxford comma that there is debate. I forget the name for this and on searching am still none the wiser. Help would be appreciated.
[3] I purposefully (perhaps ironically) both used and did not use the Oxford comma in this sentence. In the first instance I felt it unnecessary since the meaning would not change with its inclusion; in the second I was replacing commas where semi-colons could have been used, and in which case the final semi-colon would always be used to indicate the list items clearly.
The Oxford comma, or serial comma, is the last comma in a list of items preceding a conjunction: usually 'and' or 'or'. The list "red, white, and blue," uses the Oxford comma yet, while being identical in meaning, the list "red, white and blue," excludes it.
Apparently it is more common practice in American English than British English, though, and I imagine hence the name, the Oxford University Press recommends its use. There are arguments both ways for its use regarding standard conventions, ambiguity and redundancy.
Personally I have found myself making a conscious decision whether or not to include this comma, but until now have been unaware of its propriety, or indeed the scale of its worldwide debate[2]. Intuitively as I write I have felt it has been incorrect to include this comma, however I have been guilty of using it in order to emulate speech in its intended manner, or indeed to use the comma instead where semi-colons might also have been appropriate.
Since language is so subjective, ever changing and open to debate, I suppose I will continue to sit on the fence on this issue, use it where I deem necessary, and continue to blog in my occasionally haphazard way.[3]
[1] another debate
[2] this is another literary device. It is not the Oxford comma itself that is doing the debating as is literally suggested, but about the Oxford comma that there is debate. I forget the name for this and on searching am still none the wiser. Help would be appreciated.
[3] I purposefully (perhaps ironically) both used and did not use the Oxford comma in this sentence. In the first instance I felt it unnecessary since the meaning would not change with its inclusion; in the second I was replacing commas where semi-colons could have been used, and in which case the final semi-colon would always be used to indicate the list items clearly.
Happy Birthday Lauren!
I'm probably always going to harp on about how-fast-the-year-is-going, and today is no exception. It's just a little head spinning to think that it was a whole year ago that we finished our final exams and were planning this little sojourn to the other side of the world. It's only four weeks until our summer holidays - for which I really cannot wait - but then Lauren's off! How different it will be without her.
So, as a reminder of the beauty that is this wonderful country, instead of blogging in the past week I've been making the mother of a mix tape featuring all the wonders of K-Pop that are. With less pleasant reminders of Girls Aloud-esque girl groups, I wasn't exactly a fan of the genre when I first arrived in Korea. However with few alternatives available to me as I walk down the streets of Seoul, I am nothing less than a convert.
Remember Tell Me by the Wonder Girls? Here's their new song. Not exactly the cutesy innocent look they had six months ago. I've chosen to link you here since this version has English subtitles which I feel are a necessary commodity to fully appreciate the delicate nuances of the song. Unfortunately the user disabled embedding, but I urge you to take 3 minutes for a listen.
We had a nice birthday dinner/drinks on Thursday to celebrate Lauren's big 2-2. It was lovely having all our friends in one place, and to meet up with our old co-workers from our old school. It's become a bit of a joke that out of all the ex-teachers, we're the only ones who have continued in the profession - and we don't even necessarily want to be here! Having said that, with no concrete plans post-contract I'm starting to consider staying on...
So, as a reminder of the beauty that is this wonderful country, instead of blogging in the past week I've been making the mother of a mix tape featuring all the wonders of K-Pop that are. With less pleasant reminders of Girls Aloud-esque girl groups, I wasn't exactly a fan of the genre when I first arrived in Korea. However with few alternatives available to me as I walk down the streets of Seoul, I am nothing less than a convert.
Remember Tell Me by the Wonder Girls? Here's their new song. Not exactly the cutesy innocent look they had six months ago. I've chosen to link you here since this version has English subtitles which I feel are a necessary commodity to fully appreciate the delicate nuances of the song. Unfortunately the user disabled embedding, but I urge you to take 3 minutes for a listen.
We had a nice birthday dinner/drinks on Thursday to celebrate Lauren's big 2-2. It was lovely having all our friends in one place, and to meet up with our old co-workers from our old school. It's become a bit of a joke that out of all the ex-teachers, we're the only ones who have continued in the profession - and we don't even necessarily want to be here! Having said that, with no concrete plans post-contract I'm starting to consider staying on...
Friday, June 13, 2008
Parents' Day
Tuesday was the bi-annual Parents' Day. It was originally scheduled for sometime last month, but was postponed due to lack of preparation. At the time I wondered how they could just change the date so flippantly, but as the new day approached I was glad they did. Having originally considered it as an excuse for a lazy day - just four half hour classes all day! - the prospect of having all the mummys scrutinising my classes and keeping count of how many times their darlings raised their hand suddenly became a little daunting, and it dawned on me that running through the day's events a couple of times beforehand might not be a bad idea.
One of my co-teachers suggested that I ran a post office themed class. With this in mind I got the kids to scrawl an "I love you mummy" note, complete with picture of mummy, which they could then 'send' at the 'post office' for Mary Teacher come Postman to deliver.
[On writing 'Mummy' on the board, I was ushered over by the boss who had chosen to sit in on one of my classes with her electronic dictionary out suggesting I'd spelt the word wrong. On explaining that we didn't use an 'o' in England, she then told me to write it both ways in case people got confused. I didn't.]
The day was generally a success. The mothers were embarassed as I asked them concurrently with their little ones how they were ("Oh!" they'd giggle. Making a big circle with my arms to help them understand I'd ask, "Tiger's Mummy, are you happy?" to which I might receive an embarassed nod, or if they were feeling especially brave a, "Yes, happy") and the children seemed to have miraculously learnt my simple post office roleplay dialogue overnight. Really, my fears were unfounded as my initial visions of an easy day came true.
Yesterday Lauren and I spent our morning at Children's Grand Park. Not a national holiday this time, but a whole school inspection by the board of education in Korea. When we arrived at school for our afternoon classes we came to realise that as we were enjoying the animals and gardens, the time off might not have been quite out of the kindness of their hearts but a ploy to hide us from sight. I know we're not technically employed by the kindergarten itself, but perhaps this English teaching is all a little more underhand than we'd realised.
One of my co-teachers suggested that I ran a post office themed class. With this in mind I got the kids to scrawl an "I love you mummy" note, complete with picture of mummy, which they could then 'send' at the 'post office' for Mary Teacher come Postman to deliver.
[On writing 'Mummy' on the board, I was ushered over by the boss who had chosen to sit in on one of my classes with her electronic dictionary out suggesting I'd spelt the word wrong. On explaining that we didn't use an 'o' in England, she then told me to write it both ways in case people got confused. I didn't.]
The day was generally a success. The mothers were embarassed as I asked them concurrently with their little ones how they were ("Oh!" they'd giggle. Making a big circle with my arms to help them understand I'd ask, "Tiger's Mummy, are you happy?" to which I might receive an embarassed nod, or if they were feeling especially brave a, "Yes, happy") and the children seemed to have miraculously learnt my simple post office roleplay dialogue overnight. Really, my fears were unfounded as my initial visions of an easy day came true.
Yesterday Lauren and I spent our morning at Children's Grand Park. Not a national holiday this time, but a whole school inspection by the board of education in Korea. When we arrived at school for our afternoon classes we came to realise that as we were enjoying the animals and gardens, the time off might not have been quite out of the kindness of their hearts but a ploy to hide us from sight. I know we're not technically employed by the kindergarten itself, but perhaps this English teaching is all a little more underhand than we'd realised.Thursday, June 12, 2008
Hanji makes me happy
Last Friday was another national holiday. Unfortunately I spent most of it watching chick flicks and popping pills as an irritating summer cold crept up on me, but nevertheless the time off was much appreciated. Come rain or shine or deathbed sickness, the Korean teachers here always make it to class, making us feel a little guilty about exercising our sick-day rights. A paid, guilt-free day in bed certainly beat slogging it out at the 유치원.
Lauren had arranged a hanji paper lamp-making session with a lady down in the traditional street of Insadong for the Saturday. This sounded like a nice relaxing way to get out of the one-roomed place I'm calling home these days. However, on discovering the lady's absence from her shop, my slowly developing Korean skills were called upon as I dialled the number to find out where she was. "Closed," she said. Most disappointing.
Sunday was Dano - a traditional Korean holiday. For the first time since our very first weekend in Korea, we went to the Namsangol Hanok Village to see what was going on. Reflecting on our memories of those first impressions we received eight months ago, revisiting the site certainly highlighted how quickly the time has passed since our arrival, but yet also how much has passed in this short space of time.
This recreation of a traditional Korean village hosted a variety of activities for its visitors this Dano day. There was a traditional food market, traditional games, 'traditional swing ride', hair washing with 'extract of changpo', a taekwondo demonstration, and Lauren even tried on hanbok. Unfortunately, given our love of a bit of craft DIY, the sign 'Traditional Craft Making' had its back sadly turned from us. Still, the weather was perfect for a wander - sunny but not too hot or muggy - and everyone seemed to be out smiling and having a good time.
Taking a final meander on our way out, what did we come across but a whole street lined with arts and crafts stalls! We were in heaven. Options included soap making, jewellery making, tie dying, Corn dolly making and more, but since our hanji experience in Jeonju the papier maché experience won hands down. While Lauren was creating a masterful paper doll, I was gluing up a traditional mask. Unfortunately the heavens opened big style, making the process doubly as sticky, but the end - if slightly rushed - finish was most exciting. If I'd not spent so much time ripping up pieces of paper to stick on it, I'd assume that it'd been painted.
Hanji is definitely up there on my favourite things to do in Korea. I hope the lamp lady comes back soon.
Lauren had arranged a hanji paper lamp-making session with a lady down in the traditional street of Insadong for the Saturday. This sounded like a nice relaxing way to get out of the one-roomed place I'm calling home these days. However, on discovering the lady's absence from her shop, my slowly developing Korean skills were called upon as I dialled the number to find out where she was. "Closed," she said. Most disappointing.
Sunday was Dano - a traditional Korean holiday. For the first time since our very first weekend in Korea, we went to the Namsangol Hanok Village to see what was going on. Reflecting on our memories of those first impressions we received eight months ago, revisiting the site certainly highlighted how quickly the time has passed since our arrival, but yet also how much has passed in this short space of time.This recreation of a traditional Korean village hosted a variety of activities for its visitors this Dano day. There was a traditional food market, traditional games, 'traditional swing ride', hair washing with 'extract of changpo', a taekwondo demonstration, and Lauren even tried on hanbok. Unfortunately, given our love of a bit of craft DIY, the sign 'Traditional Craft Making' had its back sadly turned from us. Still, the weather was perfect for a wander - sunny but not too hot or muggy - and everyone seemed to be out smiling and having a good time.
Taking a final meander on our way out, what did we come across but a whole street lined with arts and crafts stalls! We were in heaven. Options included soap making, jewellery making, tie dying, Corn dolly making and more, but since our hanji experience in Jeonju the papier maché experience won hands down. While Lauren was creating a masterful paper doll, I was gluing up a traditional mask. Unfortunately the heavens opened big style, making the process doubly as sticky, but the end - if slightly rushed - finish was most exciting. If I'd not spent so much time ripping up pieces of paper to stick on it, I'd assume that it'd been painted.
Hanji is definitely up there on my favourite things to do in Korea. I hope the lamp lady comes back soon.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Health warning
As I put the remaining frankfurters into the refrigerator, I am reminded of the fact that earlier this evening, I ate plastic. I didn't just chew for a while and spit out in disgust. I thought it was food, and I swallowed.
So I bit into the sausage. "This is very chewy," I thought. "Am I supposed to cook this first?"
Only when I got to the last mouthful I noticed a filmy texture in my mouth. Lo and behold, what did I pull out but a chewed up morsel of cling-film-esque sausage sheath.
Now when these sausages are coming in a vacuum packed package in the first place, why is it then necessary to wrap each one individually? And in what? Clear plastic? They really ought to write that on the wrapper.
So I bit into the sausage. "This is very chewy," I thought. "Am I supposed to cook this first?"
Only when I got to the last mouthful I noticed a filmy texture in my mouth. Lo and behold, what did I pull out but a chewed up morsel of cling-film-esque sausage sheath.
Now when these sausages are coming in a vacuum packed package in the first place, why is it then necessary to wrap each one individually? And in what? Clear plastic? They really ought to write that on the wrapper.
Korean wedding
On Monday morning I was surprised to open my eyes to clear blue skies. Why I was surprised I'm not sure, since most days prior to then had too been this hot kind of hot I've been complaining about. During my first class of the day I asked the ritual, "How's the weather today?" to receive shouts of "It's sunny!" No later than the second class I asked the same question, only to be faced with "It's stormy", and a racket at the windows.
The rains have come, and they've not stopped yet.
Last weekend was Alex's brother's wedding. Kindly, Lauren and I were invited along, but as the day grew closer to the event we became a little apprehensive as to why we were going. What would be the premise of our invitation? Still, it's always good to occasionally put oneself in such situations in order to build up a little extra character. And of course it was good to have the opportunity to experience a Korean wedding ceremony, too.
And regarding that, it was a little bewildering. We subwayed it down to the relevant "wedding hall" - ballroom type places used specifically for marriage ceremonies, often with cheesy photos outside displaying Just Married signs (luckily I didn't notice any on this such one; obviously a classier venue^^) - just in time to poke our heads around at the ceremony. We didn't stay in the room to watch. Not being formally seated among the masses of family guests in the main hall, it all felt a bit voyeuristic.
More bizarrely, neither did Alex, brother of the groom. "Nah, I don't need to see that," he said. Instead we headed for our sit down meal one floor down while we watched the couple make the rounds of greetings on the big screen. The fancy camera work and replays of Behind The Scenes really made me feel like I was watching a reality TV show, though Alex assures me that the screens are not a regular feature of all Korean weddings. With Korea's love of technology, it wouldn't surprise me if they were.
Many couples these days opt for a 'modern' wedding, incorporating both a western-style and traditional Korean ceremony in the one event. So the bride started her day out in a sparkly white ball gown for the exchanging of the rings with her husband-to-be in a fancy tux; commenced the transition between western and Korean style wedding by changing into more regular smart dress for greeting the guests (why they needed to change for this was a little confusing); and, once all the guests had eaten their what they all hoped was locally produced steak[1] and gone their separate ways, the couple changed once more into full-blown hanbok for the traditional Korean wedding ceremony.
[1] a very topical issue. Might write about it another time.
The whole affair was practically over in two hours. The Korean ceremony - which among other things included bowing to each set of parents and force feeding one another traditional ricecakes - seemed to be a close family do only (so if we felt voyeuristic before...), so if you were neither related to the bride or groom, a foreign onlooker, nor present for the ring exchange, you probably only came to show your face and eat the free food. Not much different to a fully western style wedding then, except these kinds of guests might also come for the free booze and all night party that were absent from this event.
Before I attended this one, I was thinking that I'd like to have a Korean wedding. OK so I have Korean blood, but culturally I am as British as they come. Nevertheless, I'm open to exploring my native roots. (Of course this wedding option would only occur were I to marry a Korean man, otherwise it really would be taking the mick.) However as pleasant as it was, I do now realise that I'm definitely up for the bridesmaids, cringe-worthy speeches and marquee that I just wouldn't otherwise get to have.
Though it is a good excuse to own hanbok; maybe I can have two weddings...or just incorporate the whole lot in one...or maybe I need to find a husband and get my head out of the clouds. Wait, I'm not looking to get married any time soon. Post while you're far far behind, Chi-Hé.
The rains have come, and they've not stopped yet.
Last weekend was Alex's brother's wedding. Kindly, Lauren and I were invited along, but as the day grew closer to the event we became a little apprehensive as to why we were going. What would be the premise of our invitation? Still, it's always good to occasionally put oneself in such situations in order to build up a little extra character. And of course it was good to have the opportunity to experience a Korean wedding ceremony, too.And regarding that, it was a little bewildering. We subwayed it down to the relevant "wedding hall" - ballroom type places used specifically for marriage ceremonies, often with cheesy photos outside displaying Just Married signs (luckily I didn't notice any on this such one; obviously a classier venue^^) - just in time to poke our heads around at the ceremony. We didn't stay in the room to watch. Not being formally seated among the masses of family guests in the main hall, it all felt a bit voyeuristic.
More bizarrely, neither did Alex, brother of the groom. "Nah, I don't need to see that," he said. Instead we headed for our sit down meal one floor down while we watched the couple make the rounds of greetings on the big screen. The fancy camera work and replays of Behind The Scenes really made me feel like I was watching a reality TV show, though Alex assures me that the screens are not a regular feature of all Korean weddings. With Korea's love of technology, it wouldn't surprise me if they were.
Many couples these days opt for a 'modern' wedding, incorporating both a western-style and traditional Korean ceremony in the one event. So the bride started her day out in a sparkly white ball gown for the exchanging of the rings with her husband-to-be in a fancy tux; commenced the transition between western and Korean style wedding by changing into more regular smart dress for greeting the guests (why they needed to change for this was a little confusing); and, once all the guests had eaten their what they all hoped was locally produced steak[1] and gone their separate ways, the couple changed once more into full-blown hanbok for the traditional Korean wedding ceremony.
[1] a very topical issue. Might write about it another time.
The whole affair was practically over in two hours. The Korean ceremony - which among other things included bowing to each set of parents and force feeding one another traditional ricecakes - seemed to be a close family do only (so if we felt voyeuristic before...), so if you were neither related to the bride or groom, a foreign onlooker, nor present for the ring exchange, you probably only came to show your face and eat the free food. Not much different to a fully western style wedding then, except these kinds of guests might also come for the free booze and all night party that were absent from this event.
Before I attended this one, I was thinking that I'd like to have a Korean wedding. OK so I have Korean blood, but culturally I am as British as they come. Nevertheless, I'm open to exploring my native roots. (Of course this wedding option would only occur were I to marry a Korean man, otherwise it really would be taking the mick.) However as pleasant as it was, I do now realise that I'm definitely up for the bridesmaids, cringe-worthy speeches and marquee that I just wouldn't otherwise get to have.
Though it is a good excuse to own hanbok; maybe I can have two weddings...or just incorporate the whole lot in one...or maybe I need to find a husband and get my head out of the clouds. Wait, I'm not looking to get married any time soon. Post while you're far far behind, Chi-Hé.
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