Comparative analysis: Weddings in Asia, Part 1

Last month I had the chance to attend a wedding here in Korea. I've been meaning to blog about it because it was a very strange experience, but never got around to it. But last week I took Thursday and Friday off in order to go to my cousin's wedding in the Philippines, and oh my, what a vastly different experience it was!

So...about this Korean wedding. Nearly half of Koreans do not ascribe to any religion. So perhaps this is why it seems like most weddings to not happen in temples or chapels, but in wedding halls. The wedding hall I went to was this big building - it had an open floor plan with escalator in the middle, and it was maybe 5 or 6 stories tall. I don't remember what the ground floor was like, but the next three floors were identical - when you got off the escalators, there was an open lobby, and on each side, a ceremony room and a small viewing room. This makes it possible for two weddings to occur at the same time. We got off the escalator on the appropriate floor, and then had to maneuver through the crowds of wedding guests to figure out which side we should be on. We found the bride (C's ex-coworker) in the viewing room. Apparently this room is where the bride sits on a thrown in front of a photographer, and all the guests can come in and get their photos taken with her. Being token foreigners, we were ushered in for a photo.

I'd actually heard a lot about the factory produced nature of Korean weddings, and was eager to experience it myself...but I'll admit my first impression was "you know, I kind of get it." I hear so much about how stressful and complicated and expensive wedding planning is, the idea that you just book a location and everything is arranged for you so all you have to do is show up seemed moderately appealing. Post ceremony, I decided that in fact no, I preferred the more stereotypical American wedding. The Korean ceremony was: 1)short 2) cheesy and 3)very impersonal.

First of all, they never closed the doors for the ceremony, so the whole time that the minister (or whomever decrees marriage in Korea) was talking, while the couple was giving their vows, people were walking in and out, chatting, etc. My thought was "no no, people should be paying attention to ME on my wedding day."

The signal for the beginning of the ceremony was some woman covering Savage Garden's To the Moon and Back. Apparently, although I haven't heard that song in maybe 10 years, I still know all the lyrics. When the bride walked down the isle, the music changed to Celine Dion's Power of Love (to all who don't know, this is the song that goes "cuz I'm your laaaaadyyyyyy, and you are my maaaaaaannnnn"). They also had spotlights and disco lights for both the bride and the groom. A smoke machine was puffing fog out from under the cake table during the cake cutting.

I guess you can't really tell from this picture...

The ceremony hall looked as expected:

After the ceremony - which only lasted about 20 minutes, the bride and groom left, and all the guest were invited to make their way to the top floor of the building, where there was a big banquet hall. As a guest of the wedding, you are given a meal ticket, which is collected at the top of the stairs, and then everyone from all the weddings (which I think could be at least 6 total, with 3 floors of 2 ceremony rooms each) converge on this giant buffet. The tables aren't even divided so that one wedding all sits in one place - it was kind of a sit where you can find a seat situation.

Anyhow, congratulations to the happy couple.

Community

One thing that has really delighted me about coming to Korea is the sense of community among the foreign teachers here. I think we are tied together by the common experience of

the discomforting, disorientating sensation of being dropped on Mars. We can't read the signs, we don't have any way of calling friends or family back home. Figuring out how to buy groceries the first time is a challenge, let alone navigation public transportation (a challenge in most places even when you can speak the language), or find outlets for making friends.

That results in two things I think. One is that there is a ton of stuff going on! Yoga classes, softball games, frisbee leagues, language exchanges, not to mention the everchanging spur of the moment events like theme parties downtown or organized day trips. Daegu is a small enough city that all the foreigners are linked by two degrees of separation. Just tonight I met a girl who had heard of me through someone else. And this someone else I haven't even met yet! We've talked a bit on facebook because she coordinated some yoga classes in town. It kind of reminds me of college in that way - there is some sort of comfort in the middle ground between complete anonymity and being stuck with the same crowd all the time. Moving into circles is easy, because you quickly find the links, and moving out is easy because there are enough things to do to keep from being stifled.

The other thing is that I've found everyone here so incredibly welcoming, friendly, and helpful. Koreans too, actually. In various places I've lived in the States, one thing I've found very challenging about being a new person in a new city is that everyone you meet already has their own thing going on - their own circle of friends, their own lives to live. I've found people not very easily accepting of a new person, because the necessity for that person's friendship is absent. This is not the case here. I feel like my friendship circle is constantly expanding. I feel like every time I meet someone new, they are eager to make plans to hang out again, to include me in things, to keep me in the loop about the Daegu social scene, no matter how long they've been here, no matter how many friends they already have.

This feels good. As I've blundered my way along the unmarked post-college journey, sense of community has been a strong motif in my life. Community keeps me grounded when I so often feel like a piece of seaweed being batted whichever way the current flows. Fear of the loss of community often inhibits me from going somewhere new. But I feel like in the short amount of time here, I've built as good of a network that, in other places, took a much longer time to develop. And that's pretty rad.

In which I am a pawn in system

Did anyone catch all the Tiger Mom/asian parenting discussions in US media a few months ago? This WSJ article succeeded in scandalizing and inflaming a slew of supposedly insecure soccer moms and generating quite the debate. It was interesting to be following the debates right after arriving in a Tiger Mom motherland of South Korea, and in fact, finding myself a key player in their system.

Three blog posts ago, I was feeling a bit frustrated about work. In fact, its not all that bad, I don't find it productive or helpful to be negative all the time, and I try hard to be a cultural relativist, but there are certainly some things about the culture of education in Korea that grate on me when my mood is low.

Let me begin with an essay sample:

"I agree that school breaks are important. Because the students must study Monday to Friday. Also plus the second and fourth weekends' Saturday. We are very tired. We are very hard. We got so many stress. Unfortunately we also have study on Saturday and Sunday. Because our mother wants us to study even more words. So we go school, academy and study at home agin. Our everyday life is the same! So we need rest. It is school breaks. School breaks is student's only rest time. If there are not school breaks, students will be Zombies!"

I had another essay (which I didn't think to save) where an elementary school student wrote about how skipping school is wrong because you will not be able to get perfect attendance, and that school is where you learn about decorum and rules.

It is painfully obvious that Korean students are under quite a bit of stress (if it's not, please refer to my last post). And here's where I come in. After spending the day at school, kids can't go home to have an afternoon snack, watch cartoons, and play with their neighbors. They trudge over to my academy to sit through 2 hours of english grammar and 1 hour of english conversation. If they fail their vocab test that day (which many do, as they are expect to memorize about 100 words per class), they have to stay after class to do a retest. So no wonder so many of my students are morose. I've got students who would rather use the time in my class to study their vocab than practice speaking. And I can empathize. When I was in elementary school I had a few classmates that took after school Spanish and French classes. At the time, I remember expressing contempt/confusion ("why would you do that?") although now that I actually can appreciate the utility of being bi or even tri-lingual I wish my parents had subjected me to the same. A kid can't be expected to understand the value of learning a language from a native speaker. And I'd like to further argue that perhaps a kid shouldn't be expect to do so.

I came to the field of education from the context of environmental education, and especially Last Child and the Woods and the No Child Left Inside movement. The idea behind these is that interacting with the outside world is extremely beneficial to childrens' development. When playing outside, children are not boxed in/defined, and can learn to create/express/use their imagination. Children learn to socialize on their own. Children learn how to entertain themselves. Furthermore, it's been shown that spending time in nature helps limit symptoms of ADD/ADHD, and of course helps combat child obesity. Additionally, a lot of people have been studying how so much learning happens outside of the school classroom, and sometimes students are shown to be much more receptive to information gained experientially rather than academically.

I came to Korea with this notion that children learn best when they are happy, excited, engaged. That different children (people, even) have different learning styles. That learning can happen in informal, unstructured environment as well as, if not better than, in the school environment. The problem is, education is not viewed like that here. My academy seems to be particularly rigorous, and the idea is that things need to appear serious here. We've been told that mothers prefer books without pictures, because they look more academic, and that pictures on the walls look unprofessional. Whenever my students write essays about their goals for the year, or what they want to be really good at, they talk about becoming the top of their class. Whenever you asked them what is the worst thing that happened to them, they write about recieving a bad test score.

That being said I have some really delightful students who are willing to learn. Sometimes only because they want to score well on their college entrance exams, but at least they are willing. And I have some younger students who are still in the point in life where they are just little sponges, excited to grasp any concepts. But I can't help but feel a little depressed when I read an essay that says: "some students say students also have human rights and we can express our personality. I agree this opinion. And, frankly speaking, I was to disappear school rules, so I want to let my hair grow long."

Fun facts about the Korean education system

This is part 1 of what began as one very long blog entry...

Here are some fun facts about the Korean education system (possibly not entirely correct, as the majority of this information was gathered by cobbling together the broken english explanations of my students):

1. In March, my 6th graders suddenly morphed into middle schoolers. March is when the school year begins.

2. Middle school is 3 years (the equivalent of 7th, 8th, and 9th grade), and high school is 3 years.

3. All schools, including elementary schools (to my general knowledge) rank their students.

4. Come middle school, boys and girls are taught in different classrooms, everyone cuts their hair to a certain length, and everyone wears a uniform unique to their school.

5. The quality of a school is very important - even to middle schoolers. I have one student whose family moved so he could go to a better middle school. Getting into a good high school is perhaps as high stakes as college admissions in the US. A rising high schooler's eligibility for top schools is determined by his or her class rank. Because "good" middle schools give much harder exams than "bad" middle schools, this supposedly evens out the playing field for any particular student's eligibility.

6. High school is the most challenging/educationally important time for a Korean student. High school students do not finish school until about 9pm at night (and then they go on to academies for extra studies, and do homework. At some point I imagine they must sleep, but I have no idea when).

7. The Korean version of the SAT - their college entrance exam - is the most important test in Korea. This test is so important that on the day the high school seniors are testing, other high school students do not come to school (because this is where the test is administered), all other schools - as well as businesses and companies and restaurants - cannot open or begin business until 9:30 (maybe 9am?). This is to ensure that there is no traffic for the students who take the test - if they arrive late they cannot take it, and must wait one year for when the test is administered again. I do know a few people who have siblings or friends who weren't satisfied with the score they received on this exam, and are taking the year off to study for a retest in order to get into a better university. I was also told that, because of the listening component of this test (part of the english proficiency), airplanes do not fly while the test is being administered o_O (I recognize just how ridiculous this sounds and perhaps should get a confirmation about this before writing it but here I am).

Korean living

I tidied up yesterday, and thought that it might be time to finally take some photos of my little studio. Somehow it looks tidier in real life than it does in these photos.

So welcome to the grand tour.

This is the view from the entry door.

That's Perry in the corner. He was my "welcome to Korea" present. I don't get sunlight (more on this below) but at least I've got a furry friend. My kitchen consists of a sink and two gas burners, although I did buy a small, used counter-top convection oven (which is basically a very fat toaster oven) . Given my lack of counter space, the oven is out of view, behind my clothes drying rack.

View of my desk/bed...

When I arrived in Korea, my apartment was completely bare, aside from the bed. The Korean teachers at my school wrote a list of things I needed, including a TV. When I told them I didn't want a TV (1. I don't watch TV 2. It would be in Korean anyways), they decided I needed a desktop computer instead. So that was nice.

Behind the sliding doors next to the kitchen is a tiny laundry room, with a giant laundry machine.

I haven't lived somewhere with my very own laundry machine in years! I didn't realize how nice it is. No need for a laundry hamper, I just put my clothes directly in the machine. No need to find time to run the machine. No need to race to pull my clothes out before someone else dumps them on the floor...

I did have to get all the buttons translated.

Same with the heating system:

Actually the Korean house heating system is kind of interesting. It's all run by in-floor heating (called ondol here) - most heat controls ask you to set the temperature of the water, indirectly controlling the heat in the room. My controls have an air temperature thermostat, so I can set the water temperature, and then it automatically turns the heat on or off depending on what I have set my desired air temperature to.

So, I mentioned lack of sunlight. I have no windows! Actually, they aren't completely absent - I've got the tiny kitchen window, and there is a normal sized window behind the laundry machine, but it's frosted. I either have the window open (not great given that its still pretty cold here), or no sun comes in. Even when the window is open, my grand view is...the wall of the apartment next to mine -_- Coming from an apartment with south facing sliding glass doors, I really miss having natural sunlight in my room.

Another interesting thing, which I didn't photograph, is my bathroom. There is no separate stall for the shower - it's just a hand shower mounted on the wall. There is a drain in the middle of the bathroom floor. So before showering, I (and every other english teacher here - this bathroom system seems to be pretty commonplace) must remove the TP and towels to somewhere dry. A post-shower bathroom is pretty wet. Some people get around this by using bathroom slats - little wooden platforms you stand on when you use the toilet or the sink that keep your feet dry - I went and bought a window wiper (think of those things you use at the gas station to clean your car windows). I squeegee my floor and pull all the puddled water into the drain. Its fun.

Miscommunications

There are some things I don’t like about this job. On Monday, the other foreign teacher at my school (the other native English speaker who teaches conversation classes) called in sick, and I had to cover two of his classes – a 6th grade class and a middle school class. The front desk girl who brought me the revised schedule told me that the 6th grade class would only be for 30 minutes. Now, most of my own classes are 6th grade 30 minute classes that meet twice a week, but I was under the impression that this particular class of my coworker was actually an hour long class. So I asked her to double check that time block with the administrative/scheduling women in the other building where my coworker teaches (my school has two campus that are in separate building, right next door to each other), and she came back to my classroom and said “yep, it’s a 30 minute class.” So I prepared for a 30 minute class.

The time for the class rolls around, and I’m looking at the students, explaining how their normal teacher is sick, and I continue to have this inkling. So I ask them what time the class usually ends, and just as I was thinking, I find that it’s usually an hour long class. But I had confirmation from the main schedulers that I was to teach for 30 minutes, so I figured that maybe they just decided to make the class shorter to give me more prep time. So I teach for 30 minutes, release the class, and run back to my own building to prepare for my next class. The minute I walk into my building, I see that the front desk girl is on the phone, and I have another inkling, so I don’t bother going to my classroom, but wait for her to get off the phone. When she does, I ask “I have to go back there don’t I?” “Yep – that class is for one hour.” …..Of course I knew it, I knew, I knew it would happen, but at the same time, hadn’t prepared for a 1 hour lesson. So I go to my classroom and make some copies of an old lesson that I’ve done with my students and trek back over there.

Obviously, it’s not a major deal – they recognized that it was their mistake, not mine – but it was really frustrating for that to happen after I double checked what the schedule was supposed to be.

Similarly, about a week ago, I taught one of my usual 30 minute classes. At the end of class, I said goodbye to the students and released them. Immediately after that, the front desk girl comes in looking rushed and frazzled, with those same students trailing behind laughing. She comes into my classroom and closes the door on them, and as they are all peering in through the window of the door, asks me “nobody told you that this class is 1 hour today?” “Uh…what?” That class had missed a class a few weeks prior, and apparently they were scheduled to make up the missed time by adding on 30 minutes to that day’s lesson, but the school failed to tell me this. Of course the students knew, but this is one of my two worst classes – both are all boys, 6^th graders, who hate coming to class – so of course they’re not going to tell me.

So there are just little things like that that are really dumb. I’m not sure if this is a typical Korean thing to just be on the fly, or if there are communication problems given that a lot of the staff don’t speak very good English, or if this particular school is just disorganized, but it can be a little absurd.

At the same time, there is also a lot to be said about such a low stress job. On my busiest day, I teach 5 classes for a total of 2.5 hours. Of course I have to put in some preparation time, and I’m given essays to grade every week, but even so I have a LOT of downtime. It’s nice to have that time to write emails to people back home, catch up on blogs I follow, research whatever strikes my fancy, catch up on current events, or write my own blog posts like I’m doing now.

Sweating and learning

I joined a gym today. I’ve been really grumpy over the past couple of days and my absolute lack of exercise has certainly been contributing to my mood. I know I had all these grandiose ideas about trail running, but honestly, I’m a fair weather friend in that regard. It’s been cold, it’s been dreary, and we actually got about 6 inches of snow on Monday, so now the roads and sidewalks are adorned with slushy mud. I’d been contemplating a gym membership for a little while now, and a few days ago I asked my Korean co-worker where there were gyms in the area and she found one by my house. I was procrastinating on checking the place out, telling myself I should just wait until after this weekend and start a routine, but really was just nervous about the possible challenge of signing up for a membership without being able to communicate. However, I woke up in such a foul mood this morning that I had no other option, all I wanted to do was go for a run and pound out that bad energy.

Korean gyms are pretty similar to gyms in the US – same weight and cardio equipment…however there were some notable things.

1. They provide work out clothes! Everyone gets to wear a cute little red and black t-shirt (I was pleased that it was made of that technical sweat-wicking fabric too) with matching shorts.

2. They had these terrifying hoola hoops with teeth on them, which I can only imagine may be for toning your stomach or massaging while you tone? And there was this machine that looked for all the world like a giant, vibrating rubber band – a woman was standing inside it and it was vibrating along her legs – maybe this was to relax stiff muscles??

3. Finally, the women’s locker room was crawling with unabashedly nude ladies. Naked by the mirror blow-drying their hair, naked and chitchatting, naked and drying off from a shower, and of course naked in the shower room. Generally, I’ve found Korean’s lack of personal space a bit trying – most particularly when I’m waiting to get on a bus or a subway and I am bowled over by much more aggressive/eager riders (also irritating is trying to get off an elevator because people immediately push their way in when the doors open) – there is no sense of propriety or politeness about who is first. However here I realized, after the first jolt of surprise at being surrounded by naked ladies, that the apathy about strangers’ nude bodies was kind of liberating. How nice it is, to not have to struggle to make sure your towel is not about to fall off, or to feel nervous and judged by your exposed body.

Korea has these places called jjimjilbangs, which are supposedly public bathhouses/spas – you can sit in a hot tub and a sauna, and there are a wide variety of rooms (green tea baths, hot bath, cold bath)…I haven’t yet been to one so at this point I can only imagine. But one of the things that guidebooks and seasoned teachers give warning about, is everyone at the jimjilbang is stark naked (they do separate the genders). I’ve been wanting to go to one – I mean an afternoon at the spa for $7 sounds pretty good to me – but like joining the gym, I’ve been a little intimidated by the prospect of having to figure things out without being able to communicate, and also I wasn’t sure how I might feel/react to the nakedness, but I dealt with both of those concerns this morning successfully, and I think it sounds pretty good.

Accountability

Back in Seattle, I had a lot of free time on my hands, and low social inertia (struggling with existential crises about what to do with the next few months, let alone the rest of your life, will do that to you). That led me to spend a lot of time on the internet, a bit mindlessly, but a bit out of the desire to connect with people outside my geographical circle. I’ve been a lot of places – sometimes I feel like a stretched net, with anchor points all around the world.

But now that I am once more a Gainfully Employed Person, I have much less free time to sit and ponder. On top of that, here I am in a new country faced with food to try, a language to learn, people to befriend, mannerisms and habits to decode. So many things are interesting and strange and new here, and I think a lot of them would be interesting for you all to read about. I’m constantly thinking about blog subject matter. But the problem is, the busier I am, the less inclined I am to use my free time to stare at the computer screen. Which means the blog gets a bit dusty.

At the same time, I enjoy writing. I enjoy the idea that here, I can write for an audience. I enjoy the idea that my audience is people I care about who are interested in my life. And I enjoy the idea of flaunting all the neat things I’ve been experiencing. So I want to make time to try and keep this thing going.

Up and coming (in theory):

Fast and hard Korea observations

Overnight at a Buddhist temple

“Teaching” at an English academy

Affirmations of a linguaphile

I realized this weekend that I think maybe I am in love with learning languages. I've felt pretty confident with my comprehension of the Korean alphabet for the past couple of weeks, but further progress in Korean sort of stagnated, aside from the slow accumulation of food dishes that I'm learning. But on Sunday I went out with two of my Korean coworkers, and got them to help me with some key phrases. And then I reviewed numbers with them, and for the first time tried sounding something out in order to write it down, and it turns out I'm actually ok at doing that. Heh, my Korean friends were really impressed, actually, which of course felt great. I bought the little notebook in the picture while with them, I want to build up a collection of key phrases and its going to be great!

The day before, I met up with some friends for dinner, and to my delight, one of them had brought along a couchsurfer of theirs - a young guy from Colombia who got to Daegu about a week ago, and will be here for 6 months to study Korean! First of all I was pretty surprised that he was here - it seems like a very random language for any non-Korean to learn - but he told me he is a taekwondo student, which this was some of the impetus for this trip. Anyways, I have a bit of a thing for Latin American culture and an itch to get good at Spanish (I was taking Spanish classes for the 3 months before coming here, have I mentioned that). So I told him yo gusto practicar espanol con tigo" - which he responded positively to, albeit really too fast for me to understand. Mas despacio por favor. I'm pumped.

This language learning energy got me thinking I wanted to download some novels in french and brush up on that too...but then it occurred to me that I'm already confusing vocabulary in the different languages I know, and how really it would be so much better to just pick one, focus, and become reasonably fluent before moving to the next. But that's my problem always isn't it - picking one thing only.

I live for the weekends

I went running for the first time in over a month Monday morning. It felt good. Especially because 60% of that run was a trail run on a dirt path through the forest. I haven't been trail running since I left Alaska two summers ago and how I have missed it. Running felt so good - just stretching my legs, waking up muscles that haven't been used, getting my lungs so thirsty for oxygen, reminding my body that sometimes it needs to work hard. And doing all this, not with the jolting impact of foot to pavement, not with the struggle to breathe while avoiding car exhaust fumes, but in poofs of red dust, crunches of leaves, and frenetic, bounding leaps to avoid rocks, roots, and other potential ankle-spraining hazards. There is something really liberating and primal about trail running - like my body is remembering life as a prey animal running from saber-tooth tigers or velociraptors. The only problem is, before getting out there, I have to build up the motivation to brave to weather. I had every intention of running again this morning, but after a poor night of sleep, here I am writing instead of bundling up for another frosty winter jog.

I discovered this trail last week - I live to the west of a big mountain park - in fact of I have a nice view of it from my classroom/office.

Work is alright, its pretty easy aside from the two classes of middle school boys I deal with, and I've got a lot of free time. So really, what's been most exciting about being here is outside of work. Well, outside, period. I'm pretty stoked about the fact that even though I live in a typical densely populated Asia city, where skyscraping condos line the streets I walk to work, I can find dirt and trees.

My first sojourn to this neighborhood mountain was over the weekend, where I first discovered that a 25 minute climb up out of the traffic led to a panoramic view of the city -- of a bustling, working, urban hub nestled innocuously in the crook of a rolling mountain landscape.

There were some burial mounds along the trail, and I decided that if I were to die, a final resting spot affording such a view wouldn't be such a bad place to spend eternity.

Back, and hungry

Last month I got the chance to talk to my ex-grad school advisor for the first time since I jumped that ship. I was feeling rather apologetic about doing so, and was talking to him about going to South Korea, telling him about the Spanish classes I'd been taking this fall. He said to me "Tala, you're just a curious person" and said something about how I have so many interests. This is certainly true, and extremely relevant to the reasons why I've pressed the paused button on the whole grad school idea. I lamented to him that I this was exactly my problem and he laughed, and said that he couldn't wait to hear from me 10 years from now, that when I finally pick something I'm going to be this machine at it and rocket into space.

That felt really good.

But it also makes me wonder if I will - if I will find one single thing to focus on. That sounds so boring at the moment. Here I am in South Korea, and at the moment, I'm still filled with wide-eyed wonder for this new adventure. Apologies for the long silence, I've been so busy experiencing things and honestly I just didn't want to take time from that to record them.

But it's been going great so far (and I haven't even mentioned my pre-Korea travels yet). There are small challenges - my first night I couldn't figure out how to get the hot water going, for example.

But so far, the newness outweighs the frustration. My current "project" is trying to learn as fast as possible how to read menus. It's pretty intimidating, and also frustrating, to sit in a restaurant with a growling stomach, surrounded by all these people happily digging chopsticks into sizzling plates of stir frys, slurping steaming bowls of soup, and in front of you is this menu of gobblygook.

I stole this menu from C's local diner, so I could practice at home (yep, I'm that serious).

Thankfully, I started teaching myself hangul (the Korean alphabet) a few weeks before I came here. Thankfully, hangul is a pretty easy language to learn to read - it's all phonetic, and the characters are clustered into syllable groups, which helps with pronunciation. So my challenge right now really is learning the names of dishes. Hopefully one day I'll be good enough at hangul that I can recognize words, and not have to sit there slowly sounding out each character like a 5 year old. At the moment I survive by keeping print outs of websites like this and this in my purse. The problem comes when I'm hungry and haven't thought to bring my cheat sheets along.

Good thing I also like cooking.

Tonight I made a killer coconut curry.