Funeral Rites

Two years ago, Park's grandfather died. I hadn't met Park yet at this point, so I never had the opportunity to meet the man. However, I was able to come just a bit closer to him this past weekend. There's a Korean tradition, which is Buddhist in origin, in which the family prepares a giant meal for the soul of the deceased each year on the day before the anniversary of their death. Traditionally, this meal includes more than thirty different dishes and is served at midnight.

The rite is usually done at home, so we drove out to Yesan, where Park's grandmother still lives alone. She's one of those stubborn ladies who refuses to quit working, despite old age and the chronic pain that accompanies it. She's a very humble woman and a devout Buddhist. This weekend was also Golden Week, a time during which almost all schools and companies are closed, so, unfortunately, the roads were hellish and terrible. Park and I left Seoul at 10 AM via train and arrived in Yesan shortly before. Park's mother and brothers left Seoul at 7 AM via car and arrived at 2 PM. I hate driving in Korea. Upon arrival, Park's father picked us up, and we went to the traditional market to buy all of the ingredients. Traditional markets are so exciting. There's every type of food imaginable. Fresh vegetables and fruits, still covered in the dirt from the farm; live octopuses and crabs climbing over each other, clams squirting water in every direction; a table sagging under the weight of freshly plucked chickens, their owner wielding a large knife, ready to carve them up to order; strange fish that look like alien face-huggers, medium-sized sharks, and dried anchovies; every type of kimchi; flowers and vegetable plants for one's own garden; and dog. Yes, there was someone selling dog meat. That was the first time I've ever seen dog for sale. It did not look appealing.

Blood sausage, anyone?

Formal stores are for wimps. Real shoppers do it on the street.

Fresh fish, owned by a lady who really knew how to use a knife.

Anyway, after buying our ingredients, we headed back to the house and proceeded to cook. It was like cooking for Chuseok, except there seemed to be even more of it. I chopped things, fried things, took a nap, then fried more things. I don't know how the other members of the family were able to keep working without keeling over. In fact, the other ladies of the family made me look like a downright wimp. By 10 PM, everything was finally ready.

While the ladies of the family cooked the food, the men's responsibility was to arrange the food. Presentation and quantity are very important in the rite. Red foods are arranged to the west, while white foods are arranged toward the east. Certain numbers must be avoided, such as the number four (the Chinese character for four is the same as the one for death, so four is a very unlucky number). Other numbers, such as three or five are considered lucky, though, so it is important to arrange the food in these quantities. Park's father did most of the arranging, until his grandfather's oldest brother's oldest son (the senior member of the family) showed up to help him. It's the responsibility of the oldest man in the family to manage family rites, so he's the expert in this matter. They also spent a good deal of time showing Park's oldest brother, JeongSoo how to arrange the food, since it will be his responsibility eventually.

Mr. Park, cutting the watermelon. I'm not sure why, but it's important to cut the tops off.

Mr. Park arranging the fried stuff. See those? I helped make those. All 300 of them.

Grandmother Park cutting up some kind of pancake. Notice the fancy bowls and plates. Those are only used for the rite.

Almost all of the dishes.

The small table in front is important, as you will soon hear.

Once the food was finally prepared and arranged, they placed a small bowl on the table in front of the food and lit some incense. The incense is meant to tell the the spirit that it's time to come over for his meal. Once the family was assembled, it was time to start. Every bowed 2 times to ground and once at the waist. Then, the senior member of the family knelt in front of the table holding a cup. Another family member pored alcohol into the cup, not all at once, but three times. Then the man holding the cup passed it around the incense three times. Everyone bowed 2.5 times again, and then we left the room. The belief is that while everyone is out of the room, the spirit of the deceased can come eat his meal. After a short time, we came back. The alcohol on the table was poured out, and we repeated the process of pouring alcohol again and bowing. Each family member, from highest to lowest held the cup and passed it around the incense three times, then bowed. Since I'll soon be part of the family, I was also allowed to participate. However, Park did all of the cup-holding, since he's a man. Some might find that discriminatory or old-fashioned, but I think there's a sort of dignified beauty about it. When everyone was finished, the rite was over. The huge upside of all Korean traditions is the food. Grandfather Park was done with his meal, so now it was up to the living to enjoy it.

I love the idea of the funeral rites. I think it's a beautiful way for a family to remember their deceased parents and grandparents by getting together and praying for their souls. And, most importantly, it's a rite that also sees to the needs of the living. Once the rite is over, everyone who helped prepare it gets to eat. If you don't see your family often, it's also a way of making sure that you regularly do see each other.

The next day, we returned to Seoul, laden down with rice cakes, fruit, and lots of fried goodies. We also stopped off at the vacation home of a politically significant guy that Park's father wanted to meet with. I think it's okay to mention now that Park's father is running for Seodaemun district council. We've been helping out his campaign by passing out his business cards, going to meetings, and introducing ourselves to everyone under the sun. I've become the campaign mascot. It's sort of embarrassing, actually. I do a lot of awkward smiling and bowing as Mr. Park proudly introduces me as his future daughter and everyone marvels at "the American". Anyway, this was one of those meetings. The guy and his wife own a beautiful vacation home in the countryside, where they have frequent barbeque parties for their friends and acquaintances. I wish I could do that too. That sounds like an awesome retirement. As we made our way toward the food table, I was in for a shock. Lying on the carving board was...dog. And next to it was a giant cauldron of spicy dog soup. Fortunately, there was also pork available. We opted for the pork.