3 (Sat) October 2015
Tara’s Wedding Spread
by Gana (catering company)
at the cabin
with the wife & kids, Mom & Dad, extended maternal-side relatives, and of course Tara and her new hubby (welcome to the family, chump)
The Prodigal Son Returns for His Cousin’s Wedding, Day 2 (see previously 6.270 Babyback Ribs…).
Tara got married today.
For reasons whatever, she’d asked if the wedding could be held at our cabin, and my mother had agreed.
The only people in the universe who were happy about this arrangement were Tara — I’ll never ever ever understood why a person would opt for an outdoor wedding when a perfectly adequate climate-controlled indoor venue were available — and my mother — who had the time of her life complaining about everything.
While I love Tara like a sister, I would’ve said no, had the decision been left to me.
Because, for starters, it meant that everyone from our family had to drive 2 hours from Seoul to get there, while the groom’s family was bussed in from Busan, departing at 0730 to arrive by noon. As if that weren’t enough, the bus was too big for the narrow country lane leading to the cabin, so they had to walk the final kilometer; when we realized what was happening — after a few hardy souls began showing up winded and sweaty and dusty — we quickly deployed a few cars to pick up the older folks straggling behind.
And even though event planners were hired to take care of everything, including clean-up, I still had to pick up the pieces in the end — like used toilet paper*.
*Most Koreans still believe that flushing toilet paper will result in clogging, so they discard soiled toilet paper in a trash can**, typically right next to the toilet, whether at home or in public.
**Case in point: on her first trip abroad, to Tsushimi (see generally 2.024 Barbecued Sambal-Soy-Soju Shrimp), soon upon arrival, YH went to a public restroom, and emerged a few minutes later with a handful of soiled toilet paper, and asked what she should do with it, as there’d been no trash can in the stall.
Which means that the titled owner of the property — who hadn’t been consulted about any of this — was forced to do all of the menial supporting tasks, including shuttle and valet service, lighting charcoals — the only job lower than this at a restaurant is cleaning out the restrooms — and cleaning out the restrooms.
On a positive note, I did enjoy the rare privilege of observing a mobile catering crew prepare a buffet feast within a few hours, without a set kitchen. Amazing. The photos speak for themselves.
The best part was that I got to see my relatives, especially my cousins, the first time in nearly two years (see most recently 4.349 Grilled Ribeye).
***Tara and I graduated from the same high school (SIS), university (CAL), and grad school (USC).