The Korean Mind. Boye Lafayette De Mente
of employment in the society.
Until recent times in rural areas, immediately following a wedding the bride was presented to her new in-laws and other members of her husband’s family in a ceremony that was called pyebaek (peh-bahk). Another old practice that has fallen by the wayside was the custom for members of the wedding party to escort the new bride and groom to the room where they were to spend their first night together. There their relatives, mostly drunk by that time, would poke peep-holes in the paper doors to watch the couple. But once the couple had started ceremoniously removing their wedding robes, the groom extinguished the candle lighting the room (by squeezing the flame between sticks rather than blowing it out so as not to breathe out good luck), thereby preventing the peepers from seeing anything.
The chung mae (chuung may), or “arranged marriages,” that occur in Korea today are more likely to be among the upper class, whose members are more concerned about social and economic standing, and among common people in rural areas, where the old traditions persist. Arranged marriages that do occur generally follow centuries-old customs. The first of these customs is careful scrutiny of the so-called “four pillars” of the prospective couple, which refers to an astrological study of the year, month, day, and hour of their birth.
Predictions based on the “four pillars” concern the health, life span, and material success of the two individuals—not the relationship itself. Whether or not the couple can be expected to live together in harmony is revealed by their kung hap (kuung hahp), or “harmony quotient,” which is usually determined by a fortune-teller. The results of the kung hap generally take precedence over the “four pillars.” If the harmony quotient of the couple is low, the proceedings are usually called off, and the search for potential partners begins anew.
If both the kung hap and “four pillars” are positive, the next step is an engagement ceremony at the girl’s home, at a restaurant, or at a hotel. At the meeting the young couple exchange gifts, and the young man’s parents ceremoniously present the girl’s parents with a piece of handmade white paper on which his “four pillars” have been written. The two families then decide on the wedding date. The first private meeting between prospects for an arranged marriage is called the matson (maht-sohn).
From this point on, the customs for yon-ae (yohn-aae), or “love marriages,” and chung mae marriages are similar. A day or so before the wedding is scheduled to take place, the young man’s family sends a large wooden box of gifts to the bride-to-be. The box is called a ham (hahm), which literally means “box” but refers specifically to a box used to convey wedding gifts. The gifts, normally jewelry and several yards of red and blue cloth used in making a traditional dress, are known as yemul (yehm-uul), or “courtesy gifts.” (On the day of the wedding acquaintances and work associates generally bring money, in special white envelopes, as gifts. Close friends often give the bride and groom personal items.)
Friends of the young man, usually in a merry mood from drinking and cutting up, carry the box of gifts to the girl’s home. My alumnus-brother Don Hackney, who was married in Korea, notes that the groom’s friends who take the ham to the bride’s home are divided up into a leader, a “horse” (the man actually carrying the box), and two “knights” guarding the “horse.” The “horse,” who may be wearing a dried squid mask, cannot make a move without being told to do so by the leader. As the group approaches the door of the bride’s home, the leader repeatedly orders the “horse” to stop and allows it to proceed little by little as the bride’s family and her friends hand over sums of money to the leader. The money is later used to take the whole group out for more drinks, food, and fun.
Most present-day weddings in Korea are held at wedding halls, in hotel banquet rooms, or in Christian churches. More likely than not, the bride and groom wear Western-style dress. The wedding ceremony itself is very much like the typical Western wedding. The father of the bride escorts her to the groom’s side. The bride and groom face the wedding officiant and exchange vows. The officiant then makes a long speech about the obligations of the couple and how they must strive to make a successful marriage.
When the speech ends, the couple turn to the guests and bow. This concludes the formal ceremony, following which photographs are taken. An elaborate buffet-style meal in an adjoining or nearby room follows (some guests leave the ceremony early or skip it altogether and head straight for the buffet). Couples who get married in Western-style dress invariably do a quick change into traditional Korean attire after the ceremony for the picture-taking session.
When the bride and groom are Christians, which is often the case since some 25 percent of Koreans are officially registered as Christian, the wedding may be completely Western, cake and all.
Chuso 추소 Chuu-soh
Finding the Right Place
Finding chuso (chuu-soh), or “addresses,” in Korean cities approximates finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. In fact there is no better illustration of the difference in Korean and Western thinking than the naming of streets and the numbering of buildings for addressing purposes, for here the contradictions between the logic and rationality of the West and the “illogic and irrationality” of the East are plainly visible for all to see and experience on a daily basis.
Historically in Korea (as in Japan) most streets were not named, numbered, or otherwise identified in any way, making it impossible for people to orient themselves or locate buildings or homes by referring to the lanes or streets that they were on or near. Furthermore, houses and buildings were not numbered in sequence according to their locations on or near streets. Instead they were numbered on an area basis in the order in which they were built. In other words, there was no such thing as “street addresses”; instead there were “area addresses.” Individual addresses had nothing to do with their street locations.
To further complicate the problem of finding places in Seoul and other cities, there was little or no order in the relationship of many lanes and streets, resulting in mazes that were virtually impenetrable by outsiders. This fuzzy system resulted in Koreans’ (as well as foreign residents’) navigating in the cities primarily by means of well-known landmarks. After arriving in the vicinity of a desired location, it was then a matter of “needle-in-a-haystack” searching.
Still today, many streets and most lanes in Korean cities are not named. Generally, the only streets that are named are major thoroughfares (and in some cases they were first given names by foreign residents). The house and building numbering system has been rationalized in some new districts, but in most urban areas it remains a maze with no obvious relation to streets—a system that is just as inconvenient for Koreans as it is for foreigners.
Korean cities are divided into wards (gu or ku), districts (dong), and sections or blocks (ka). There are several dong in each gu. (Seoul has 24 gu, and over 500 dong.) Houses and buildings are numbered, but for the most part the numbers are not attached to the buildings or displayed where they can be seen readily. Addresses begin with the appropriate ward (gu), followed by the district (dong), the section or block (ka), then the house or building number, and finally the name of the householder or the building name.
A typical address (in the Korean language), for example, is “Seoul, Choong Gu, Sokong Dong, 87, name of the building or householder.” (The Korean postal system accepts—and delivers—international mail addressed in the Western manner: addressee, building or house number, district, ward, city, country.) In rural areas, counties (gun) and villages (ri) take the place of cities and wards in the addressing system.
The best approach for non-Korean-language foreigners who want to go to private homes or less than well-known office buildings by taxi is to have a Korean call the location concerned, get precise instructions on how to get there, and then draw a map of the location, with the names of the ward, district, and section written in Hangul (Hahn-guhl), along with markers indicating nearby landmarks, to give to the taxi driver.
Almost all hotels in Korea keep a ready supply of their own “address cards,” in both English and Korean, at their check-in and information counters for the convenience of their guests. The cards are designed to be shown to taxi drivers and others to make sure that guests can get back to their hotels.
Dong Ari 동아리