Christmas in Korea

The snow started falling a few weeks ago and, for a moment, I was super excited to put on my thickest coats, woolly socks and mittens and head out into the whiteness for some snow angel fun (after struggling to appropriately dress three little ones the excitement soon wore off for me and has continued to dampen as the temperature continues to plummet). The snow brought with it the cold which brings with it a guilt-free need to drink hot chocolate whenever you leave the house and upon returning (necessary in order to stay warm). It also brought with it some questionable dressing in an effort to stay warm (I am proud to announce that I wear Ugg boots outside and it is awesome for keeping feet warm). But, by far, the best thing about the first snow flurry of the season is that it means Christmas is coming to Korea. 

Back home, the tell-tale signs of the coming of Christmas include that the clothes get a little smaller, the nights get a little longer, jars of chocolate sultanas get put on the kitchen table and the small, slightly brown patch of grass that holds the Ringwood Clock Tower by the Ringwood train station, gets invaded by a slightly faded nativity scene that has not changed in the 37 years I have seen it. And then there is the Myer Christmas windows in the city and the endless Christmas carols played in every department store that you dare enter. 

What then to expect of the coming of our first Christmas in Korea? Would we be able to purchase some Christmas themed decorations (Christmas is not Christmas without tinsel that the kids can rip up into tiny little pieces and distribute all over the house)? What about some Christmas themed food (I am quite partial to my minced pies)? Most importantly, given we are away from family and friends, would be be able to feel the Christmas spirit in Seoul? 

Clearly I had forgotten for a moment that I am in Seoul, a mega city where you can find anything, anywhere, anytime! I think it is fair to say that Seoul embraces all things Christmassy with the fervour of a crazed three year old unwrapping her first Christmas present that has been sitting under the tree unfairly tempting her for more than a day! Christmas music, particularly the Glee covered versions of Christmas carols, started to be heard around about middle of November in Starbucks. Christmas trees were first spotted in the last week of November and the variety and number of them has only grown since (white, red, green, tall, small, thin, fat - the list goes on). Santa outfits in all sizes are available everywhere, including at the stationary shop down the road which has turned its sidewalk displays into a Christmas extravaganza of trees, lights, baubles and cards. Whole shops have sprung up in Namdaemun Market dedicated to Christmas ornaments, lights and snowmen (whole families of snow-people should you be so inclined) and Christmas themed public art, covering everything from nativity scenes to winter wonderlands, omnipresent. 

Added to this, our troop have spent the past few weeks at school participating in Christmas shows and creating Christmas craft, our new family Christmas tree has been put up, presents have been picked up from the post office and Christmas movies have been watched (somewhat surprisingly, I have found that National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation is not an appropriate movie choice for a 5 year old). 

Yet, despite appearances of similarity, this Christmas still feels so very different to last Christmas. Maybe it is me. With age (and children) comes change. Maybe it is Seoul, where Christmas Day is not an official public holiday (Chuseok remains the big holiday of the year for Koreans), we can buy our bread fresh on the day, we can go to the supermarket if we have forgotten anything (and not to the ridiculously expensive petrol station on the corner), we can duck out for a quiet coffee alone in between present unwrapping and we can even take our youngest to childcare for the day if we felt so inclined (no, I won't but I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it just for an hour or two). Maybe it is me in Seoul that is the determining factor here. I think it is probably the latter. 

The weather is a notable contrast. Last year, we celebrated Christmas in shorts and a t-shirt, spent some time in the pool and  ate outside in 30-plus degrees. Here, it is ridiculously cold, with top temperatures this festive week reaching around 2 degrees if we are lucky. I am currently wearing "napping tights" underneath my jeans to stay warm. But, because of the cold, I feel it is now totally appropriate to own a Christmas themed jumper despite years of derision aimed mostly at my mother for wearing Christmas themed attire. I want a blue one with snowflakes on it or maybe a red woollen one with reindeer flying across it. How amazing will it be if husband and I both have a matching festive jumper to kick off Christmas day with the day with? Alas, they are proving hard to find this year so, while I continue in my quest for an appropriate Christmas jumper day accessory, I have successfully purchased a Christmas type beanie - the bigger the pom-pom the better! 

Because of the change in weather, or maybe because tradition is growing strongly in my belly, the whole eating a roast idea becomes so much more appealing. We want the oven on, we want roast meat, potatoes and pumpkin with rich, velvety gravy and we need that chocolate pudding for dessert. This requires immense organisation in terms of timing as Korean ovens are not really that big (on table gas barbecues are more the rage here for your various marinated meats to go with your rice and seaweed) so your meal must be done in stages and the stress, blame it on the constant fear of food poisoning genes inherited from your mother, will rise up like never before!  

Christmas day music is another new experience. Previously, we have had on Christmas carols from the various concerts around the country and at Mum and Dad's carols from Kings College in the UK would have been on high rotation. This year, we searched for appropriate Christmas music that was not the Fairies (I like them but two years of non-stop Fairies Christmas carolling can wear you down) and this is what we ended up with:

Say hello to Crayon Pop. A K-Pop band famous for wearing helmets and singing a crazy song called Bar Bar Bar. 

Soul to Seoul: Christmas in Korea wearing helmets, matching Christmas jumpers and drinking one hot chocolate after another!

True Love - South Korean style: Part 6. Michiel and Marieke - a modern day love story.

Michiel and Marieke (not their real names) claim that when they first met there was no indication that they would end up like this. Theirs was a usual courtship. Meeting at university, they developed a deep love for each other through a shared liking of the band Doe Maar (Michiel was particularly good at singing Smoorverliefd while Marieke knew all the dance moves), red wine from Chile, cheese from France and a healthy interest in hiking and biking, just like all good Dutch citizens.   

Their first date showed nothing that may have set off alarm bells. They went to a movie, followed by a couple of Heinekens at a mutually convenient cafe. Normal. Couple travel followed soon after. Together, they visited Africa, Australia, traversed most of Europe and had a drunken weekend in Bruges (or was that me?). Finally, they were married in 2004 and were soon blessed with babies. They bought a house, enrolled the kids in swimming classes and caught up with friends on the weekends. So far, life was good: all seemed normal. 

Time passed, with some lovely couple moments interspersed: the occasional finishing of each others sentences; an uncanny ability to correctly order for the other; and the intimate splitting in half of the last slice of pizza. There was even some complete orange-dressed family moments, but given everyone in the Netherlands wears orange on days of national pride (the orange worn so prolifically for soccer matches is homage to the heritage of the Dutch Royal Family - the house of Oranje-Nassau), it never seemed as though anything was out of the ordinary. Looking at their past you could not have guessed what was to come when they moved to Seoul. 

It was winter when they arrived. Cold and snowing. Boots and jackets were needed. His was blue, hers was purple. She got colder. She bought a thicker jacket. It was blue. "Because it was the thickest one there", she claimed. We believed her. 

As Spring sprung, the matching colour jackets were put away and forgotten, or so they said. Spring brings with it a desperate need to join Seoul's fluorescent dressed crew and spend parts of one's weekend amongst the cherry blossoms in one of Seoul's many mountains or parks. Michiel and Marieke were no exception. Their love of hiking taking them across Seoul from palace wall to palace wall, from national park to national park, from Namsan Tower to the Secret Garden. As the weather got warmer still, we spotted matching brown loafers on their feet. "Just a coincidence", she said and put it down to the fact that it is hard to find shoes for bigger feet in Seoul. We had no reason to doubt them. 

One sunny summer's day they invited us to join them for a family stroll up Bukhan Mountain in Bulgwang. Great views of the city, they promised. We gathered our crew, they gathered theirs and, as organised, we met at the designated subway stop only a few minutes late. The effect of the metro coffee I had grabbed en route was taking a while to penetrate my system (rough night before with one of our munchkins) so I was a bit slower than usual. Husband throughout had no idea (male observation skills being generally poorer in this regard). We greeted them, exchanging the traditional Dutch three kisses, and proceeded on our way. As we made our way up a very large hill, stopping briefly to eat a bunch of bananas, another family making their way back down insisted on giving us their picnic mat that they had finished with, such is the generosity of Koreans. We added that to our bags and kept walking. After another hour or so, with all six kids desperate for a drink, we rested on the steps of a Korean pagoda and that is when I noticed: Michiel and Marieke were love-matching! Complete outfit love-matching. Blue on top, khaki on bottom and those brown loafers. On both of them. At the same time. In public. 

Planned? Yes. They alleged they had been urged on by my fascination with the trend and wanted to experiment whether there would be any reactions from Koreans if they, clearly a non-Korean couple, went out dressed in love-match (which, btw, there was not). 

Shocked? Absolutely! But, when I recovered from my initial excitement of the moment (and had finished making them pose for numerous photographs), to be perfectly honest, I think it would be more accurate to describe my feelings more akin to jealousy. They insisted their love-matching made them feel no differently but I saw them and their conspiratorial glances at each other. Their same-same dressing gave them power. Their bond was strong. Their love was real. They were holding hands as we walked. They liked it. They will, I expect (and for the purposes of my blog I hope so), do it again. Perhaps there is nothing more romantic than, three kids later, ten years of marriage, living in three different countries, choosing to love-match. 

Where does that leave me? I have three kids. I have almost ten years of marriage. But I don't have love-match. The other night I couldn't work out whose black UNIQLO heat tech thermal top I was putting away - was it husband's or mine because we both have one (I was also on strike from putting away his clothes so I had to make sure I had the right one in hand). This winter necessity is the closest we have got to love-matching so far and I don't think it really counts as it is more like underwear! Should I fear for our love in the meantime? Are we doomed if we don't start converging? I am after new sneakers for Christmas (navy blue New Balance with a bright blue trim would be perfect). Husband could also do with a new pair. In the interests of a long and happy life together, perhaps it is time?

the happy couple