Winter Wedding, Korean style

Korean weddings are efficient. Getting married is not an everyday occurrence, but wedding halls in Korea will do all they can to make you feel that way. Here’s how it worked in the hall we went to. There is a certain time allocated for your wedding, our time I believe, was 1:50. The bride arrives a few hours before to get all done up on the big day. She then goes up to the sixth floor and sits in a very small room as her guests wander in and get a picture with her. Here’s me with my sister, Laura, in the small picture room.

As the guests arrive, they are greeted by the father of the bride and groom and they sign in and pay. Yes, pay. There are no wedding presents given (same with Chinese weddings as I found out in Singapore), rather you give a certain amount of money depending on how close you are to the person. This is a rare opportunity to assign a monetary value to your friendship, and could be the reason that so many people attend these weddings. $50 is considered the least you would give if you were simply a mere acquaintance. Good friends run in the hundreds, and best friends may require pawning a non-vital major organ like the heart or skin (yes it IS an organ, didn’t you take 4^th grade science?). When you sign in, your name is written next to the amount you gave, recording your friendship rating for all posterity. At this time you receive your meal ticket (after all, it’s the second reason you came besides forced tributes). Jeong apologized on behalf of all Koreans, being that the majority of people that come to your wedding will obtain their ticket and proceed directly to the floor above to get their dinner, then leave. But don’t worry, you know they really do care as long as they gave more than a paltry $50.

Everybody who desires to see the ceremony waits outside the actual wedding chapel as the previous ceremony is finishing. As they file out, you file in (hey the seats are still warm!). Take your seat quickly because before you know it “Here’s Comes the Bride” is pumping out of the speaker system and the procession has begun! Koreans don’t use bridesmaids or groomsmen so they were entirely without a clue as to what to do with these six extra people standing at the altar. The ceremony proceeds pretty similarly to its western counterpart except the fact that the Koreans gave a pleased gasp of surprise as they kissed at the end (a normally absent bit that Laura insisted upon (my family are real kissers)). The new couple then bows to both sets of parents, which have special seats of honor up front, the groom gets down on his knees and plants his forehead to the ground in front of them. Respek.

As the guests who actually came into the chapel now file off to the mess hall, the picture taking begins. Jeong and Laura changed into traditional Korean wedding get-ups (hanboks) and then went through the Korean portion of the wedding. They serve tea to both sets of parents, then each set of parents throws fruit at the bride as the groom pulls out her apron to catch the fruit.

You’ll have as many children as the fruit you catch. The Na’s (the new couple) caught 9. They now have no choice but to have 9 children, it’s tradition and it’s never wrong.

Finally we went to the mess hall once everybody had already eaten and left (no, I’m serious). It seems that you can really have any type of event you would like at these event halls, check out the banner.

Laura is wearing a traditional bride’s hambok, characterized by the rainbow sleeves. This is not to be confused with the rainbow affiliated with gays, since they actually can’t get married. This is a serious conflict, which accounts for the sparseness of gays in Korea. I drew that last conclusion myself.

An interesting sidenote (and much more serious than my gay comment above) is how uncommon it is to see a mixed couple in Korea. Koreans have a peninsular mindset. Being that a peninsula is an avenue to the mainland from offshore islands they have a long tradition of being in the path of marauding Chinese, Japanese, or Mongol armies as they attack each other. As a result, Koreans are fiercely protective of their people and their heritage, historically going to great pains to not intermingle with other races that travel through. Upwards of 90% of Koreans that live in the peninsula are just that: pure Koreans with a painstakingly detailed genealogy that chronicles their bloodline. Seeing foreigners is not really all that common in Korea, but it’s much less common to see someone who is a Korean mix and they are unfortunately more likely to be the result of some prejudice. My brother in law has noticed the stares and the occasional comment that accompanies his decision to go against the national paradigm. Clearly the benefits of marrying into the family offsets this downside. As I said, we’re good kissers.