Speaking of Weddings...

I attended the wedding of Weon Chun last weekend. I first met Weon's sister, Seon, in Juneau last summer while on an Alaskan boat cruise. Seon and Weon both attended the University of Iowa, where my aunt lives. My aunt met them through some education conference, and I met them through my aunt.

I met Weon for dinner once in October, and she invited me to her wedding. Last weekend was the second time in my life I saw her. It was the second time I saw Seon, too. Two busses took the wedding party out of Seoul and south to some other town. Luckily, Seon sat next to me on the bus and accompanied me at the wedding. There was one other white guy there, a Frenchman. Seon and Weon were the only ones there who spoke good English.

Weddings are held in wedding halls, not in chapels. Machines blew bubbles in the air when Weon walked down the aisle to the traditional wedding march song. Seon and I got there late; we were eating dinner in the dining hall beforehand (they had us eat before, not after the ceremony). The pews were full, and there were many of us standing in the back of the hall looking out at the bride and groom. Everyone in the back was talking throughout the whole ceremony, which was funny. There was a quartet of girls who sang a couple tunes. It was almost identical to a ceremony like that in America. A friend marries the couple, though, not the preacher.

After the ceremony, I witnessed the traditional Korean fertility blessings, which took place in a special room. Weon and her husband changed into beautiful exotically colored dress and knelt, bowed before their parents, who also were dressed in the tradional Korean garments. Between the two groups was a table of fruits and nuts. The newly married held a sheet between them, and first Weon's parents gave blessings and threw nuts and berries into the sheet. Then the husband's parents gave their blessings, then all the elders of the husband's family (the wife's parents are her only family members allowed to give blessings, "traditional sexism," as Seon put it).

Seon also introduced me to the one Korean at the wedding who was around my age, and who also happened to be a beautiful female student at a university not too far from where I live. "You look tired," she told me. I get tired when I'm nervous. Instead of getting antsy and hyped, my brain just shuts me down, maybe overcompensating for the energy a normal person should be feeling. That was the end of that.

What a fun day

Speaking of plastic surgery...

I went to a wedding last weekend, and the woman who accompanied me, Seon (the bride's sister) had had some freckles removed the week before. Seon is a professor in Pasadena, and she flew over for the wedding and for some touch-ups on her already barely blemished face. I must have changed my facial expression a little, because after telling me of the freckle removal, she explained how looks are so important to Koreans. She showed me her Gucci watch her ex-boyfriend had bought her. "At least you got something out of the relationship that lasts," I told her. She said she's going shopping for a Gucci bag soon, or a fake Gucci bag (fake labels made in Korea are still good quality, apparently).

Many women receive breast implants from their parents as a graduation gift. Others receive nosejobs, or the combo. Children get the bottom thing on their tongues cut so that they can speak English better (it's a crock, the thing under my tongue prevents me from sticking it out and curling it, but I speak it pretty okay).

Another surgery I forgot to mention is "double-eyelid" surgery. Koreans, like the Chinese and Japanese, have more skin on their eyelids, unlike non-East-Asians. "Double-eyelid" surgery removes some skin, giving the patient a Westernized look. The Korean Prime Minister had his eyes done "to enhance his vision," a myopic excuse which many of the older Koreans don't buy. The younger ones, those getting the surgery, find his statement plausible, like the annorhexic American girls (and their boyfriends) who nod their heads and laugh when they hear that being fat is unhealthy. They probably didn't laugh if they heard the latest news that having a little fat in the thighs may be healthier for the heart. Maybe they just give that news the same treatment they give to the news on the alarming trend of annorhexia.

Somebody also told me of "re-virginization," a surgery to make it look like a woman still has her hymen after she's lost it. The man wants a "virgin" wife, I guess. This seems like something that would only happen in the highest society; my Korean coworkers (aside from my boss) aren't pinched-up stress-bombs whose shit doesn't smell. I don't know how common "re-virginization" might be, the news obviously wouldn't report much on it here. Image importance may get a little ridiculous in Korea, as it does in the US.

"Andrew Teacher, why no black hair?"

"Why don't I have black hair? Because (I have European ancestry? No, too complicated for kindergarteners. God made me that way? No, not good enough for Clara.), I am from America." Clara went back to her seat, her brow in a crease, dissatisfied with my answer.
"New teachers? Yellow hair?" Kids asked when Amber and Kate visited wonderland yesterday. The children at the school haven't seen so much blonde hair before. They screamed in excitement and ran into their classrooms, peering through the windows at the two American women in the hallway. Chris, a Gustavus grad staying at Amber and Kate's, a full beard on his face, walked behind them. No screams, just looks of wonder at another foreign man. The kids might be used to the facial hair - I'm trying a goatee at the moment. They ask to pet it sometimes.

"Give Peace a Change"

Appears as a quote on a John Lennon poster I saw in Seoul. Funny, but I'm more taken by the fact that they care about his legacy out here.