'Do I really want to do this?' I asked myself, as I was donning another layer of the hanbok, Korea's traditional formal attire. Nonetheless, I have raised too many expectations for me to back out now. Knowing Korea's penchant for elegant practicality, I knew I will get through this alright.
The notice-board at the luxury hotel was cryptic: "Wedding 13:00-15:00". For me, coming from the Israeli culture of lax arrivals and dancing till sunrise, this was an impossible statement.
A jazz trio played old standards, as friends and family, some of which I previously met, gathered in the flowery ballroom. At 13:01 all guests were already seated, and the ceremony, which followed a western script, commenced. From that point on, nothing was left to chance. Every second was choreographed by a group of sharply dressed attendants, that hovered over the scene, directing every move and gesture. The occasional interruptions in the flow, were to allow one of the attendants to rush to the bride, re-arrange the folds of her dress, and make her perfect for the next photo. The bride's university professor conducted the ceremony, and gave a short speech advising the couple to contribute their talents to society. Soon it was time to cut the cake and throw the flowers to a designated recipient (She didn't catch it, and the throw was repeated.) Only the bride's younger sister, who could not contain her tears, demonstrated a visible emotion.
The attractive food ($120 per plate) was served by a horde of waiters, who did not let an empty plate linger more than a minute. I liked the wine, a rarity in Korea.
By 15:01 the last guest left the wedding hall.
I missed the drinking and dancing of Israeli weddings, but was compensated by the after-wedding ceremony, where the young couple, wearing elaborate traditional costumes, honored the groom's parents and accepted their blessing. Mazal Tov.
very stylish
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