Where did I come from?

I'm currently reading Still Life with Rice (Thanks, Cha) and learning so much about myself. It's amazing that I can learn something new about myself or stir up new emotions that were dormant inside of me by reading a simple book. It's a cultural thing, I suppose, for Koreans to not communicate very well. We keep inside the majority of our emotions and thoughts unless they have some value or pertinence to the outside world. There are so many things that my parents choose not to explain to me for this reason. And there are parts of my culture and who I am that I still don't understand at times, because of this.

In this novel, the writer, through the eyes of her grandmother, tells the story of her arranged marriage and all the customs surrounding marriage: the extensive background check to ensure the bloodline is pure and untainted, the gifts that are lavished on the bride to be, the wedding celebration, the severing of the bride's family, the taking on of a new family as your own, and all the responsibilities and obligations as a daughter-in-law. First of all, I am so thankful that I did not have to endure such oppression in my lifetime. The stories of my mother-in-law pale in comparison to the devaluing and the oppression of so many Korean women for so many centuries. When I was married, my mother chose not to warn me or prepare me for the expectations that would be laid upon me. I was so simple and happy-go-lucky, thinking that I was marrying the man that I loved and that was all that I needed to concern myself with. Perhaps my mother did this to shield me from the parts of marriage that don't make it onto the pages of the storybooks. Certainly, I would face these issues head-on for myself, soon enough. Unfortunately, I really had no example of inter-family relationships to refer to, as my family left when I was only two to come to America, thousands of miles away from all living relatives.

As I was reading about the grandmother's account of her wedding, I was nearly moved to tears. On her wedding night, she was basically told by her mother that she was to set aside her own family and take on her new husband's family as her first family. As I was reading, a wave of emotions rushed over me, remembering a test I was given upon my presentation to my new family in LA and remembering my harsh introduction to a culture that was in fact my own. My husband and I were married in Houston and 1 week later we attended a reception in LA for my in-laws' family and friends. In front of these family members and family friends I was given a test. I was told to present a drink to my father, but the trick was whether I would serve the drink to my own father or to my father-in-law. The expectation of course was for me to serve my new father. With that simple act, my heart was broken and I could feel from the momentary glance toward my father's direction that his heart had been wounded too. My husband and I have had many discussions about my lack of understanding for Korean culture. I tend to be suspicious of tradition, any tradition, while my husband, being raised more traditional, tends to have more respect for customs, unless detrimental. Many traditions seem harmless enough and it's hard to judge whether a tradition should be abandoned when the Bible does not always provide clear answers on these gray issues.

It is apparent to me now that there are traditions that my parents chose to end with me and my brother. I used to be upset with my parents for not teaching me throughout life about even some of the most basic and principal Korean customs, but now I find that I actually have a deeper respect for the paths they took and the choices they made. Much like the trivial thoughts and emotions that lie dormant in so many Koreans of our parents' generation, they chose not to express from inside themselves the things in life that had no pertinence to the world and did not make me a better person. They chose to set aside the customs that were so deeply entrenched in the very fabric of their being to start fresh in America with their own teachings and customs. These customs would become my own and my daughters' and would ultimately shape how I viewed the world and my place in this world.