It was quite a deal

Good morning:
we're waiting for the call from Jeff that they are ready to head for Seoul and shopping before leaving at 7;00 p.m. tonight, which will put us back in SFO at 2:30 p.m. the same day, time warp....
The wedding was spectacular, even more so than we thought.
It rained all day Saturday and Jeff was quite bummed since the wedding was to be outside and the weather report forecast rain all day Sunday. Ang assured him that for her wedding three years ago in Dec. it had poured all day the day before, and that this was actually a good omen. Well, she was right. Sunday dawned bright and clear and we headed for Chongju at 9:00 a.m.
I'm still a little uncomfortable with the whole system here. I see a lot in common with the Wolf Clan system. The lead male is definitely head of the pack, there is a pecking order amongst the females, nobody is treated with disrespect from the smallest pup on up, and there is a lot of leeway given to the elderly.
Well, as the father of the groom, I was definitely the alpha male. I was always given the best spot. Hell, I don't even sit at the head of the table in my own home, much less in other people's homes. But here I was expected to occupy that position, and I couldn't defer from it. Food always came to me first, I got the cushiest seat, or the one with the best view, and was expected to speak for the entire family.
Sally, as the groom's mother was the lead female, a thought I'd rather leave at that point:-) Carol was treated extremely well but definitely second to Sally.
My mother was the most revered of all. Being 79 years old and making the journey, she could do no wrong, literally. She was told that as grandmother, she could do whatever she wanted and no one would take offense. That’s a pretty safe bet with her, given her desire not to offend. I just wish that at some point in my life somebody gives me that kind of latitude.
Another big hit was Jeff’s cousin, Jennifer. Her with the magenta hair and 9 tattoos. The Koreans didn’t totally know whether to be shocked, amused, stare, or exactly what to do, but she is a real sweetie, and her gracious demeanor really threw them off. =It was like they expected some combination of Cyndi Lauper and Madonna.
We rode down on the bus with all the Koreans. Jeff and Anjin had chartered a bus and there 50 of us making the two hour journey. 44 Koreans and 6 gringos. Jeff had chartered another bus for his Army buddies, but he thought we’d be more at home with the Koreans than the g.i.’s He was right of course.
It was fairly subdued on the way down. I was introduced over the loudspeaker as the father of Jeff, and since I didn’t want to appear standoffish, I went down the aisle and shook hands with each and every person on the bus. By and large, I was met with warmth and acceptance, but there were a couple of women who greeted me coolly at best. It just riveted home the knowledge that not everybody was behind this joining of the two cultures.
Jeff and Anjin had lots of uneasy feelings about how her father would accept the marriage, but I was really pleased with the genuine affection both parents showed Jeff. We can easily fall into the stereotypical attitude that foreign women just want to marry G.I’s so that they can get an easy entry into the U.S. Well, what about the parents of foreign women who fear their daughters are going to be carted off to some place where they’ll never see them again? Happily this was not the case with Jeff and Anjin.
The ceremony itself was even more elaborate than I had thought it would be. It was a replication of a royal wedding from the 15th century, cut down to 1/10th scale for practical purposes. This meant that there were only 170 attendants to Jeff and Anjin in this ceremony. The ceremony taking place on a national holiday and shown live on national tv only added to the festive atmosphere. Held in an outdoor amphitheatre, there was seating for about 500 spectators from the public who were attending the cultural fair of which the wedding was just a part. About the same number of people stood off to the side watching as well. Talk about a royal wedding.
A troop of trumpeters blasting ancient, long horns announced Jeff’s arrival on a sedan chair borne on the shoulders of eight stout men. I had made my way down to watch Jeff’s arrival, and I could see his startled look as he turned the corner and saw the bank of tv cameras, photographers, and various individuals filming the event. I was interviewed on Korean TV by three different channels asking me how I felt about my son marrying a Korean, how I liked my new daughter-in-law, what were my impressions of Korea, etc.
Anjin waited dutifully, like all good wives should, for her royal husband to come to the stage where she sat with her attendants, dozens of them. Jeff’s robes weighed over 30 pounds and he was heavily made up for the tv presentation. Can’t have any pasty-faced gringos marrying the beautiful darker skinned Asian. The costumes were absolutely stunning in color and design. Covered literally from head to toe with intricate patterns, they looked almost real. Nothing was held back. This was not a second rate production in any way. Afterwards, we all had group pictures, individual pictures, different combination pictures, just like all weddings, I guess. The Korean women all wore the traditional han bok, the flowing robes in brilliant color. They all look magnificent.
The ceremony took about an hour and a half, after which Jeff threw a post-nuptual luncheon for all the Army guys. We had lunch before the ceremony with the Koreans- much more fun.
But on the way back to Wonju is where things really cut loose and got crazy. Often when invited to Koreans homes, you will be expected to sing. Declining because of a lousy voice, extreme intimidation or other such fears will not be accepted. I thought we were off the hook when we had dinner at Anjin’s parents and didn’t have to sing, but they were only lying in wait for the perfect opportunity. It was on the return bus after everybody was sufficiently fueled (some overfilled their tank) on Soju, the national fire water, that all inhibitions were put aside. The animosity that I felt from some of the women on the way down was totally gone, and everybody had a good feeling about the events. Everybody seemed to have their personal supply of soju and cups, and of course as the Alpha male, they all wanted to make sure I was not left out so I was invited to partake from many more cups than I wished or intended to.
Since we were in the front of the bus, we were expected to sing almost immediately following Anjin’s parents. What I wasn’t prepared for was that I would be asked to sing with Jeff’s mother. Carol was off the hook because she wasn’t really the mother, my mom was off the hook because she was the vererated one, but I had no escape. Sally and I have had cordial relations for the last thirty years, but we don’t exactly have general conversations, particularly since Jeff became an adult and dealt with us separately.
We just looked at each other and without much time to discover what songs we had in common. WE finally settled on Jingle Bells, which got a big laugh. Following the singing by everybody, which turned out to just be the ice breaker, the real fun began. Everybody is now well lit with soju, and the glow from the bus must have provided a clear path for many a car behind us and so it’s time for dancing in the aisle of the bus. They put on some god awful synthesizer music that just went on and on and on and of the 50 people on the bus about 25 of them were rocking out with some very poor imitations of 70’s disco moves. Now I’ve never been known as the local Fred Astaire, and not wanting to disgrace myself further, I declined to dance. Well, this is simply not allowed. Women have never clawed at me before, but I was grabbed, pulled and mauled to find the one square foot of room in the aisle where we could “Dance.” The bus seemed to sway back and forth, but I couldn’t be sure of that since I was swaying well on my own. If I could have coordinated it with the bus, I’d have been fine. As it was, I was in danger of falling at any moment. Luckily the aisle was narrow and lots of seats to grab onto. Well it seemed that all the women wanted to dance with the father of the groom, and some of those icy stares I had encountered before were now warm smiles and friendly eyes. Couldn’t help wondering how much soju the women had.
The thing I liked about high school dances when I was young was that it was an opportunity to hold a girl close, move my feet a little and claim that I was dancing. Well, we all know what that was really about, don’t we. Much to my chagrin, my moves in the aisle were being mimicked by the 22 overly tipsy Koreans who obviously had me confused with John Travolta. No matter what I did with my hands, arms, legs, hips, it was imitated. Talk about butt ugly! So I just let it flow. I grabbed Anjin’s mother and kind of bunny-hopped down the aisle brushing aside anyone in out way. I played pattycake to synthesizer music with an aunt, twisted with uncles, and generally was very pleased that none of you could see me. My daughter informed me later that this was indeed true, but she got it all on film, and, by the way, did she tell me that she needs a new car?
Mercifully, we arrived back in Wonju before any more indignities could be extorted from me. There were bows, handshakes, and smiles all around as we said our goodbyes. I’m not really sure if I helped improve relations between the two families and cultures, or if I set them back severely.
We headed back to Seoul the following morning for our flight home. We spent the morning bargain shopping and sightseeing and headed for the airport. My whole time there while driving, I questioned the sanity of declining the optional insurance on the rental car, but we survived without incident. Saying goodbye was hard since we wanted to stay linger. I didn’t have enough time with Jeff and Anjin, but with the pressures of time, there wasn’t any alternative. Goodbyes were said, with hugs all around. When I got to Sally, I patted her arm and told her it was good to see her again. She responded: “What, o hug?” I replied: “Been there, done that.” My reaction haunted me all the way home, but I guess there has to be some negative aspect to all we do, so that we can work on getting it right the next time.
Carol and I will go back, we promised that, but next time no bus rides and no ex-wives.
Love
Carol and Jim