Techno Mart: Wedding City

I snipped the tag off my new dress and blow dried my hair for the first time in months.  Kyle rummaged around the pockets of his suitcase for any decent looking tie.  He smoothed the wrinkles in his dress shirt the best he could with his hands.  We were ready for Jane's wedding.  Jane is a Korean teacher at our school with a hilarious sense of humor, known for her grammatically poor catch phrases like, "I am die," to describe her hangover. 
We met the other SLP teachers, Korean and foreign alike, and jumped on the train heading for Sindorim.  The subway car was packed tightly, and the A/C seemed to be malfunctioning.  At each stop, somehow more people squeezed in.  During the long ride, the Korean teachers practiced a song they prepared for Jane, and we took turns signing a card for her.  In Korea, brides don't create gift regristries.  Guests always give monetary gifts.  Depending on the amount of money given, the bride then has to show the proper level of gratitude in the form of a thank you gift.  Due to this, the foreign teachers opted out of lumping our money with the rest of SLP's gift.  We didn't want Jane to have to do something too elaborate for the school. 

Anyway, we were headed for a little place called Wedding City, which takes up one floor of the enormous Techno Mart mall just outside Sindorim Station. 

Not my first choice for a wedding, but the ballroom where it was held ended up being really beautiful.  After a few escalator and elevator rides and weaving through the shopping traffic, we walked in a few minutes late, just missing our opportunity for one-on-one pictures with the bride.  Apparently, the bride sits poised on a chair with her dress sprawled at her feet, and the guests line up to get a photo with the bride.  Just like seeing Santa Claus at the mall! And we missed it!

We tiptoed into the enormous ballroom and grabbed the only seats available - three round tables at the front.  Each table and chair was covered with a soft black tablecloth, and placed at the center were bouquets of white roses and small trees decorated with candles.  More fresh, white bouquets lined the auditorium-like stage at the front which merged into a long center aisle covering the length of the room.  Huge white tapestries hung from the ceiling, lining the aisle. 

With their backs to us, Jane and her fiancee stood listening to the marriage officiant.  He went on in Korean for about ten or twenty minutes, and we watched on the jumbotron (Koreans love those things!). 

There was no bridal party, only the bride and groom were on stage during the ceremony.  A few official looking people with wires in their ears walked around making sure the ceremony ran smoothly.  One woman stuck by Jane, tugging at her dress whenever it needed adjusting. It all felt very formal, like watching a theater performance, until Jane turned and waved at all of us, smiling.

After the officiant finished, an announcer cued the Korean teachers, who filed up onto the stage.  The music started, and they all sang a beautiful Korean song to Jane and her new husband.  The performance was supplemented with confetti, small arm gestures, fake snow, and roses for the new couple.  Not your typical maid of honor speech, but it was a very sweet gesture.  I think Jane really appreciated it.  Here's a clip for you to enjoy:

Following the performance, the officiant's voice sounded again.  He said a few commanding lines, then Jane and her new husband kissed while the crowd cheered.  A few violinists and a pianist took the stage, and Jane and her husband walked down the steps of the stage to the floor where two armchairs and a coffee table were set up.  In the chairs sat Jane's mother and father.  The new couple bowed respectfully to the parents, who then stood up hugging the couple, happily receiving them.  This continued on the other side of the stage where the husband's parents sat.  It was a clear symbol of the two families joining together as well as their accepting the new couple.  I really admire the high level of respect for familial bonds in this country.

Jane and her husband took the stage again, and the music faded into Mendelssohn's "Wedding March." The new couple paraded down the elegantly decorated aisle, while younger guests stood at the sides tossing glitter and more confetti.  We mingled for another hour or so in the ballroom, while different groups of people joined the bride and groom on the stage for photos.  First, photographs were taken of the immediate families, then all relatives, and finally friends and acquaintences.  This was the first time any sign of a Maid of Honor existed.  Jane's closest friend and co-worker, Hailey, joined in some special photos with the bride and groom.  They also posed as Jane tossed Hailey the wedding bouquet. 

Many of Jane's older relatives, including her parents, wore the traditional Korean hanbok, which up to this point, I had only seen in store front displays.  I was happy to see some of the Korean traditions still exist in wedding celebrations.  Jane's dress was simliar to those seen in the U.S., except in Korea brides typically rent their dresses for the day and for about the same price as purchasing one in the states! 

After the photographing ceased, we received a meal ticket and filed out the door to the buffet.  Walking out the doors of the ballroom, we were suddenly back in reality.  The sounds of classical music faded, and the noise of a shopping mall took its place.  Shoppers bustled by us, and we piled onto the escaltors once more.  We followed the herd to a huge buffet room that spanned an entire floor.  I'm pretty sure a few different weddings were going on at once at the buffet.  We turned in our meal tickets, then scoured the packed room for seats.  The dozen or so of us had to split up and join half-full tables. 

There were lines and lines of food to choose from, including Korean, Japanese, and Chinese dishes.  We enjoyed plates of salad and other fresh vegetables, sushi, kimchi, fried rice, soups, plenty of seafood, dumplings, stir fries, and of course, dessert.  The servers floated around, clearing plates and replacing any soju bottles that went empty.  At the ceremony, all the guests were dressed as they would for an American wedding, ties, slacks, dresses, and heels.  However, the dress code relaxed quite a bit when we entered the buffet.  There were many t-shirts and jeans among the suits and ties.

 While we were eating, Jane's parents and grandparents visited all the guests, thanking them for spending the day with them.  Soon after, Jane and her husband appeared, also thanking her guests.  They had changed into the traditional hanbok, as well.  Jane thanked us for coming and acted surprised, "Shelly, who is this new man with you? What did you do with your old boyfriend Kyle!?"  All of the Koreans were surprised at how well Kyle cleans up! At this point, it was also apparent that Hailey had some special role in the wedding, as she joined the couple in making rounds throughout the buffet room.  The girls continued chit-chatting at the tables, while Kyle... well, I'm sure you can guess...

After a few more beers, we said goodbye to Jane and her husband as they took off for a week in Indonesia.  We reunited with the other foreign teachers, took one last group photo with Jane's grandmother, then headed out for a night in Seoul. 

My first (and probably only) birthday in Korea

I'm sorry I've neglected you.  I just haven't done much worth documenting during the past couple of weeks.  The weekly routine is pretty static now, but there are some exciting things coming up. Please stay tuned :)

My birthday was last week, and I am so lucky to have made friends here who wanted to celebrate with me.  The Saturday before my birthday (it unfortunately fell on a Tuesday this year) was spent in Seoul.  Kyle and I walked around Itaewon for an hour or so checking out restaurants and the menus they post outside their establishments.  We finally settled on Praha - some sort of Bohemian restaurant.  The menu boasted many German and Polish dishes, which sounded like the perfect way to soak up any remaining kimchi and red pepper paste lingering in my system from a week of school lunches.  We both ordered tall beers and discussed the mammoth portrait of Franz Kafka on the wall.

Here's Kyle's meatloaf, not as good as Kesia's, but he still cleaned his plate.

And here's my chicken schnitzel with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes, mm mmm.

 

 After dinner we visited one of our favorite restaurants for dessert.  I enjoyed red velvet cake, while Kyle took down something called chocolate mud.

To no one's surprise, I ate it all.

Arm in arm, we met up with some friends and hailed a cab for Hongdae.  We found the nearest convenient store and grabbed as many beers as we could carry.  Others chose Soju, which I've sworn off since our first weekend in Korea.  Among our friends, Soju's nicknamed "the bad ex-girlfriend."  You never want her around, but for some reason she always shows up and spoils everything.

We wandered into a park with our purchases and sat around enjoying one another's company.  We heard some music not too far off, so a few of us went to investigate and stumbled upon a drum circle.  There were a dozen or so college-age guys banging on various drums, creating catchy tunes.  A small crowd filled up the surrounding benches and some people danced along to the music.  We packed up our plastic bags of refreshments and joined the spontaneous party of strangers. 

The drum circle turned into a dance party, and eventually everyone was getting in on taking a turn on the drums.  I've been told I took part in a dance off, but my memory's been tweaked by the alcohol or embarrassment... Here's the only remaining evidence of such an event:

After the drum circle dance party faded out, we took off for another bar that was literally like an open garage with a few folding tables lined up to separate the bartenders from the customers.  We took a cab home, but the driver never turned on the meter and tried to rip us off when we finally got to the apartment.  He was a maniac driver and we feared for our lives during most of the trip home, so we threw a few 10,000 won bills at him and got the hell out of there.  I collapsed into bed and stayed there for much of the next day.

On my actual birthday, while trying not to wake Kyle, I snuck out of the apartment to get ready in the apartment next door. I returned to fresh coffee and breakfast waiting for me.  We didn't have much by way of groceries at the time, but in my opinion, grilled cheese and tomato soup tastes great for any meal! Kyle started my birthday off perfectly that way.  Later that evening, I also came home to a spotless apartment with all the dishes washed and put away.  Why can't every day be my birthday?! :)

On May 15, we were also celebrating Teacher's Day at school.  Our boss bought us pizza to enjoy after a long day of preschool, and many of the students brought in cards and chocolate.  All the teacher's sang "Happy Birthday," to me and we shared a birthday cake.  The preschool teacher's took me into Bupyeong for a celebratory dinner and ice cream (of course).  I ate well over my weight in junk food that day, and the remains fill my desk drawer.  I dig into that whenever I'm stressed (every day). 

I received two amazing packages on my birthday, one a week before, and several very sweet birthday cards.  I am so lucky to have made great friends here in Korea who took time to celebrate my birthday with me, but I am even luckier to have amazing friends and family back in the states who planned ahead and made the extra effort to send something for me all the way to Korea! Thanks to everyone who made my day extra special - it was a spectacular day! I love and miss you all dearly.

Dinner with most of my fellow preschool teachers

My collection of gifts and cards!

The strange/adorable cake my Korean co-teacher got for me. Oh, Korea...

Post-Honeymoon Grumblings

Humans are strange.  Why is it that people experience major life changes in nearly identical stages? Even people who have never moved away from their hometowns were able to predict the phases through which we'd pass during the year in Korea.  First, the honeymoon stage.  Everything was new and exciting for a few months.  We missed home, but we were much more focused on the sparkly newness surrounding us to notice. 

We were distracted by the new job and all its intricacies,
the new living quarters,
the new friends and co-workers,
the new food and culture,
the new lifestyle.

After the dust settles, you start noticing you're not in Kansas anymore.  The loogies in the street that once humored me now revolt me.  Now I find ordering a meal based on a nothing more than a blurry photo frustrating instead of exciting.  Nothing sounds better than a strong, steaming cup of black coffee.  When walking into the grocery store, I wish I could find whole grain bread, oatmeal, and normal cheese, then get the hell out.  I want the simple comforts from home I never even realized were comforts.

It's coming on three months since our arrival, and I've certainly hit a wall.  I'm by no means miserable or even regretful.  I just miss home.  With the newness worn away, conversations now turn to plans for the future (along with a fair amount of pissing and moaning, of course). What do I want out of life?  Where do I want to live? What job can I envision doing day after day? What most influences my overall happiness?

Though it can at times be unnerving, overall I find this stage even more exciting than the honeymoon stage.  These are big decisions. I can do (within reason) whatever I want. Only three months in, and I already feels my eyes opening.  Who knows what ten more will reveal.  I feel more confident in my decision making partly because my first big life decision (coming to Korea) has turned out so well.  It was precisely the right decision made at the right time.  Also, being here on my own, suddenly every decision is up to me.  I can't and shouldn't phone home with every prodding dilemma.

I used to think, "I can do whatever I want in life. I just have to figure out what I want."  I realize now that I never truly believed that.  I have a much better and stronger perspective compared to when I started college.  And that's when I was supposed to choose what to do with my life.  Obviously I wasn't ready then; I kept changing paths until I eventually just stalled. Now, my mind is clear.  No graduate program is left unexplored, and no interest is ignored. I'm contemplating whether some career out there can fulfill a strong majority of my interests, or if rather, I should find a job that gives me freedom to pursue my interests outside of work.  No decisions have been made, but no doors have been closed either.  This will be a more stressful and complicated phase, but a much more monumental one. 

I can't say I'd have this same philosophical experience if I were into my second year working as a nurse or just finishing a graduate program in Education.  Some say I'd be more accomplished, whatever that means, but I just think I'd be less content.  Who knows if I would have encountered this phase at all.  I'm growing up and gaining wisdom, which in turn will lead to the sort of lifestyle I'd call accomplished.