[HanCinema's Korea Diaries] Ducking, Diving and Tying a Knot.

I wasn't able to be there for him, but the ducks I sent did all the talking for me. After a year in Korea together it was time for him to return home and tie the knot with his old college sweetheart. Not being able to be there in person, I scoured Insadong's market for that perfect gift, and I found it. They were dark, brightly coloured and appropriate. And although I could not determine what qualities its maker bestowed upon them, I was sure that this woodcarver had, at the very least, an eye for producing an aesthetically pleasing pair.

The act of presenting a newly married couple with a pair of wooden ducks is one coated in tradition in Korea. It is said that he who carves/creates such a gift must, himself, possess a set number of qualities. So, in order for the ducks to fully take on their role as a traditional wedding gift, the woodcarver must possess five qualities; know as the "five fortunes".

The idea is that the woodcarver's positive life force (quantified by these traits) will put the couple in question in good stead in the future. The woodcarver's essence would trickle down, as it was, into their lives as the majestic birds also speak to the couples 'luck' in the bedroom, the bulge of their wallet, as well as their cholesterol and blood pressures levels.

I had hope that the ducks I had selected from the suspiciously tall and chatty Korean woman, the one who personally enticed customers off the street with her smiles and queen-like hand waving, was not just blindly encouraging me to purchase the two ducks I had meticulously (if not somewhat ignorantly) picked out. After all, what did this foreign face actually know about the quality of Korean wedding ducks? Let alone whether or not a respectable and fertile woodcarver had whittled them.

According to tradition, the carver must sell enough ducks to fill his bedroom mattress, his health should not be doubt, his family (included extended) must contain no broken marriages (a recent challenge in Korea as devoice rates soar), he must have himself a 'good' wife, and he should also have many sons of his own. If my friend did his research I might have been prompted with the awkward question of whether or not this particular woodcarver was of this require grade. No wanting to lie to him, I would have to be coy, only be able to say that the woman's husband was out shopping for their 50th anniversary gift with his platinum KB credit card, while his team of sons were sprinkling magic fairy dust over the new plantations. I wouldn't tell him that woman was paler than a mare with a twisted ankle, and that her hairline was too intact for her to claim to have raised any meaningful number of sons. Whether or not there was a long family history and honour hidden deep behind this woman's bright and convincing eyes or not, it was thought that counts. Besides the ducks primarily symbolise peace, no separations, and many children, all the things I, as his long time friend, I would curse him with again if I had to.

I knew, in all probability, that the vivid and smooth little features on my ducks would not be so lucky as to magically take their first flight together (that would be a bad omen for their marriage). So, sadly, there was to be no Pinocchio here, no enchantment or spell to cast these heavy, and rather expensive, ducks into the realm of the living. If, in a magical world I can hope to imagine, one of ducks were to take breath, it could only really be the drake. This is because his life partner would have the unfortunate task of untying those characteristic bindings around her beak. This is interesting: apparently the female duck's beak is tied with a ribbon (usually blue and red) to suggest or encourage the wife to keep silent and forever support her dashing drake.

Knowing my friend, and his fiery new goose, I found this subtle little antidote to be particularly amusing, an inside joke almost. Although, in one of my more lucid moments, I chose not to include that little nugget of cultural into the letter I had read at the ceremony. I also spared his wedding day memories the pain, and spectacle, of having their parents, as per tradition, throw the ducks between them, not once, but two and a half times. After that the groom's mother would have to throw one duck into the brides dress. If she, the nibble and wide-eyed wife, caught it, the couples first child was officially, then and there, confirmed to be a male (this is fascinating as doctor's in Korea are actually legal bound to not reveal the sex of a baby prior to birth, although they have been known to offer up not so subtle hints for the benefit of colour coding). I won't upset my readers and tell you what sex the child would be if the clumsy bride botches her new mother-in-law's throw.

As per tradition, the woman took my fantastic pair of smooth and acquainted wooden creatures and wrapped them fancy cloth. They looked comfortable, and only the heads remains visible as she gentle lowered them in the their wooded box. The cloth was more of a silky bag and it had some string that was gentle secured around both their necks, a snuggle-suit of sorts that made certain they would travel in style to their new home in the couples house.

When I did, finally, come back home and congratulate my friends on their marriage in person, I saw that they had truly taken to the ducks as they had placed them proudly on the entranceway display cabinet. I only had to glance at their position to know what the mood was in the house. This is because the position of the ducks to each other indicates the current state of play in the marriage. Beak-to-beak is great, that means that the relationship is in perfect harmony (mostly likely due to a half-decent carver no doubt, but watch out when the string on one of duck's beaks had come loose-that does happen now and again I am told); and so when the ducks are tail-to-tail, it is probably time to back peddle and just take you lunch outside.

I love the idea of wedding ducks, and I hope when I tie the knot (around my future wife's symbolic beak) that some thoughtful relative or friend presents us with a great pair of birds (outside of any bachelor party antiques of course). I would be enthused and make enquires into the woodcarver and his martial and economic status. I would even want to have lunch or coffee with his sons to determine the full extent of their mental and physical health. My mom would then, at our lovely reception, throw one of ducks (probably the lightest one knowing my mom's chronic tennis elbow) delicately through the air, where it would float down like a lost leaf into the pearly white dress of my one and only. Once home, I would carefully place the ducks in our house and I would allow my wife to sit and silently contemplate their significance.

 

- C.J Wheeler (chriscjw@gmail.com)

Advertisement