please, humour me for a while

Last weekend, I attended a colleague's wedding. I'd like to say that it was on a lovely summer's day but unfortunately, after weeks of forecast rain not actually appearing, the heavens opened up and gave us what can only be described as the entire earth's supply of rainfall in a day. Totally convenient for me then, to be dressed for a summer wedding and bearing the most industrial umbrella I could find. Pretty sure I rocked that "oh this old thing, I just spent a good hour and a half getting dolled up and then walked into the Niagara Falls' look.

(Aside: One thing I love about Korea is how it has disposable umbrella covers available at the entrance of every public building - saves you from awkwardly carrying around a dripping mess and ruining the furniture. You'd think that London, which seems to be the root of all rain, would have jumped on this bandwagon by now.)

Now, if you've never attended a Korean wedding, let me tell you that (from what I have both seen and heard) they show you what true 'production value' is.

Like most weddings, Koreans take pride and care in picking out the venue. Often contemporary weddings here will take place in a 'wedding hall' - even a chapel wedding will take place in a 'chapel-style wedding hall'  rather than in an actual church.

When you enter the building, and have finished the usual greetings and niceties ("Oh, we didn't expect you to come." ...I'm a foreign teacher, not anti-marriage), you should go to register your gift money.* It's always interesting to see the family member presiding over the money station become absolutely thrown when I hand them the envelope with "Jennifer" written on it... I hope they don't think I'm a pretentious wannabe-chaebol.

In exchange for your gift, you receive the ultimate prize for that day - the buffet ticket. This isn't even mild sarcasm, as much as it is a sad truth. If you're not a close family member or friend, it's most likely that you're more interested in the food than in the ceremony - you know, the part where the bride and groom express their undying love for each other and actually get married?? Indeed, another colleague in the midst of planning her wedding told me that, although she would prefer a restaurant style course-by-course meal, her parents and in-laws think it would be better to go with the buffet style - thereby preventing the guests from complaining about how long this whole affair is and allowing them instead to get in, eat and get out. Oh very romance, such consideration, much special, yes.

At this particular wedding, guests were lucky enough that they could skip out on attending the ceremony altogether - as they could watch it on the screen from their buffet tables in the restaurant below. Well, we can't say Korea's not excelling at convenience in its hurry-hurry society.

But let's get back to the ceremony, because I do attend them. Having finished the photoshoot with wedding guests, and unsuperglued the bride from the bride's room chaise lounge (they're always sitting on a chaise lounge) - guests are ushered into the hall by a tannoy announcement, just as you are ushered into a theatre performance.

Bridesmaids and groomsmen are not really a thing here, so the groom stands alone - or at this wedding, makes his own solo entrance into the venue as guests applaud - and the bride walks down the aisle...followed by multiple wedding hall staff fussing over her dress in the most indiscreet way possible (I mean, they wear headphones and mics to verify procedures). At one wedding I attended, the aisle was literally a raised catwalk platform and the bride entered the hall from below in a glass elevator. Cinderella, eat your heart out.

The ceremony itself is not so different from its Western counterpart, although there is usually some kind of special event. For example, my first time at a Korean wedding I ended being a part of the show - walking down that raised catwalk to give the bride a rose as she was serenaded by a band. It would have been made less mortifying if: a) I hadn't been told only halfway through the wedding that I was going to be doing this, and b) I wasn't worried about guests being able to see up my skirt and/or falling down on my way to the blushing bride.

At the most recent wedding I attended, there was a musical trend. First, a choir made up of the bride's father and friends. Then an act in which the groom's friends willingly made fools of themselves, bless them, as they danced (terribly) and sang (even more terribly) to an old Korean pop song. Finally, the bride and groom walked back up the aisle to another set of singers crooning Josh Groban's 'You Raise Me Up'. Then they came back in, visibly more relaxed now that they had officially tied the knot and the stage production was over. Time to dig into that buffet.

Although romance and intimacy may not be the priority of the typical Korean wedding, I do have to say that they are amazing spectacles to behold. There's definitely a few elements I'm filing away - not the Josh Groban parts, though. And like all weddings, they are still an absolute pain to organise (dealing with all those family members is a nightmare for everyone, I'm sure). So when the bride and groom can finally call themselves husband and wife, it is worth applause and cheering...and a delicious plate of grub.

Special shout out to the man who ordained the ceremony - although I could only understand 10% of what he was saying, he seemed to be working the crowd well. This included a joke thanking us for attending, even though we were at the epicentre of the MERS outbreak. Oh the LOLs.

JH


*Koreans tend to accept money over any other form of wedding gift. The amount varies depending on your relationship with the bride or groom.

I was greatly naive in thinking that after the first post, blogging would be more of doddle. If anything, my procrastinating nature should have been the biggest clue to how I might approach writing, which goes a little something like this:

1. Think about logging on to blogger and developing a topic based on my day/week so far.
2. Marathon 'Teen Wolf' Season 3 instead. (In all honestly, this was totally worth it.)

I

It seems that a two hour wander through a bookstore was the final catalyst for the ramblings (both verbal and physical) of my life here in Seoul to be put to paper.

Before we get any further, let me be clear that these posts do not come from someone with a writing niche - at least not in this form. My writing experience rests mostly in the history of English, literary theory, and Twitter takedowns of my sisters. #youbetterbelieve

But after more than a year of delaying, due to fear and laziness (honesty is the best policy eh), the little highlights of my day have pushed me to at least attempt a written account. The previous paragraph is my way of asking for forgiveness, preempting the over-wordy and truly amateur posts that will come.

So, today.

Today marks fifteen months in which I have been living and working in Seoul. I'm an English teacher at a public elementary school...ah, I see fellow Brits looking at me with "Don't you mean primary school?" on their lips. Americanisms are slowly infiltrating my speech patterns, but not to worry as I most definitely still sound like the Queen - at least, according to my friends when they try to reproduce my accent. I suppose that's better than my attempts at an American accent - which either comes out as a Valley girl, or as our beloved slack-jawed Cleetus from The Simpsons. More on the British accent in Korea later.

Tangent aside (and there will be many tangents in my writing, I'm afraid)... Prior to moving here, I'd never been outside of Europe. And although I come from an Asian background myself, culture shock is very much prevalent. This is also my first "real job"; and other than volunteering and coaching positions, my first time teaching children. One of many 'firsts' in my life here.

Moving from England to Korea is, without doubt, the biggest decision I've ever made in my life. And I want to document what has come from that decision.

In these fifteen months, I've learned and experienced so much - I'm still learning and experiencing so much. This is the second year working at my school, and the difference between my first day of the school term last year ('rabbit caught in the headlights' does not even begin to describe it) and my first day this year (MC Hammer's " U Can't Touch This" as an anthem springs to mind) is just a tiny testament to that.

My posts will likely range from personal diary-esque rants and rambles; information and insights about teaching abroad; over-excited fangirling about VIXX (동료 별빛들이~ 안녕!^^); my ongoing goal to conquer - or fail at - the Korean language; reviews on beauty products (#consumer); and simple snapshots of Korea.

I hope it'll all be somewhat coherent and entertaining.

To finish up: some days, things can take its toll. On those days, it's hard not to miss home, to question if I can really hack it out here, to not want to confine myself to my apartment and eat all the snacks I have (trust me, there's a lot) whilst crying during a Modern Family marathon.

It's on those days especially, that I take note of the little highlights of my day. The small things that are nothing to sing and dance over, but enough to put a smile on my face and remind me of why I choose to stay.

The little highlights of my day [150520]:

- The new science teacher continuing to make an effort to speak to me during lunch.
It's hard for the Korean teachers (heck, most Koreans) to feel comfortable speaking to me, often because they're afraid to make a mistake in English. And they never believe me when I say that their English level is great, leaps and bounds beyond my Korean level - which it is. I don't initiate conversations myself, due to a combination of shyness/fear/anxiety that I'll either make a fool of myself or alienate them even more or both. It's not uncommon then, for me to spend the majority of my lunches eating in silence. Whilst I'm a lot more used to this now, it was inevitably a lonely start. So I'm always grateful to those who strike up a conversation first. Even if it's just to ask me who my favourite football team is. Ah yes England, David Beckham is our only saviour. Or at least, the only David I trust.

- One of the boys I was reprimanding, reaching forward to touch my arm and say, 'Teacher, I'm sorry".
I took the executive decision (i.e. I didn't run to my co-teacher for help because I always feel my skills are lacking) to keep behind a group of high level students, who are well-meaning but far too distracting to their classmates. I'd decided to do this in the first half of the lesson, and spent the second half of the lesson practicing the 'speech' I would give them with the hope that they wouldn't hate me afterwards, and therefore give up on English. This gesture from one of them and their genuine understanding of the situation reminds me that I can do, and am doing, well at my school.

- Reading a Korean children's storybook, and pretty much understanding all of it without a dictionary.
I've been learning Korean on-and-off for about a year now - more decidedly 'on' in the last six months - through self study and the help of some wonderfully patient friends. Vocabulary and speaking are the biggest struggles, coupled with a lack of confidence in wielding what I already know. As such, I mentally fist pump every time I'm able to understand full sentences without looking anything up. Plus, it was a really cute story about a cat hiding in a hat.

- In the evening, a student running to catch up with me to say hello out of school hours.
This will always be warming to me. Except maybe when I'm coming out from the gym a sweaty mess...or coming home from a night out a sweaty mess.

- A deaf Korean community, from all walks of life, seeing each other off after a night out.

- And apparently becoming a fully-fledged member of the firefighting team at my school - 'Emergency Team' division.

JH