Lunar New Year, or Seollal in Korean, marks the first day of the lunar calendar. It is celebrated by at least 15 Asian countries, including the Republic of South Korea.
In Korea, Seollal is an important holiday where extended family members gather under one roof. Usually, two days before Lunar New Year, to prepare for 01 February (the climax of the festive period). On this day, the women wake up at the crack of dawn to cook food to be offered to the ancestors during the ceremony.
Lunar is an intimate affair between close family members, much like Christmas among westerners. So, you can imagine how delighted I was when my former colleague-turn-friend Sunyoung invited me to experience first-hand how Koreans celebrate Lunar New Year. I was so amped, that I abandoned all plans to cycle out of the city and hopped on the next bus to Jinan— where I spent two days assaulting her family’s ears with fractured Korean.
Tourist attractions in Jinan
Jinan is an assuming city in North Jeolla Province. Even so, Jinan has plenty to offer in the way of tourist attractions. One attraction that sees scores of people flocking to the small city every season is Maisan Provincial Park, to the two peaks, namely Ammai and Summai. The Hantaeks home is perched on a hill that faces the two peaks. Giving way to the majestic views of the national park and surrounding mountains.
It snowed consistently while I was there. It was such a treat to wake up to this view. Then slowly saunter downstairs to curl up by the fireplace.
Tabsa temple located at the foot of one of the peaks.
You are one of us now
I showed up at the Hanteaks, carrying a box of apples — not quite following the strict instructions of my other Korean friends. But I figured, in the absence of Jeju Island, grown mandarins — apples the size of a newborn’s head would suffice. Omma welcomed me into her home with a warm embrace and wasted no time trying to get to know me. I felt at home right away.
As soon as I walked into Sunyoung’s family home, my senses were immediately aroused by the pleasant aroma coming from the kitchen. Here, Sunyoung and her mother-in-law were hovering over a small gas stove. Omma (Sunyong’s mom-in-law) dipping sweet potato slices in batter, then tossing them into a large skillet. Sunyoung would then fry them until golden brown before transferring them into a woven tray.
Sunyoung and her mother-in-law make Korean pancakes.
Meet the clan.
Hardly an hour after my arrival, the aunts, uncles and cousins started pouring in. As part of the tradition, we met them at the door to 인사 (insa), a Korean greeting requiring one to bow. It was hilarious seeing the shock on their faces which immediately morphed into guffaws when the clan realised they’d be spending their Lunar New Year with a foreigner in their midst.
Culture shock
Once everyone had collected their jaws from the floor. The matriarchs retreated to the kitchen, where they started to prepare dinner. The kids (if you consider 24-40-year-olds) children and the patriarchs sat in the lounge playing board games. As we played, the women plied us with traditional Korean delicacies, endless bottles of soju and beer throughout the day and well into the night.
All the while, I struggled to reconcile with the fact that older women were in the kitchen cooking and doing dishes while four young women and a handful of young men were busy playing games in the lounge. In the Xhosa culture, this indicates the absence of home training.
I volunteered to help a few times, and each time I was sent back to the dining room. By day two, when one of the women almost hissed her, “앉아, sit down!” I realised I could be crossing some cultural boundaries. So, I gave up and fully immersed myself in the board game Olympics taking place in the lounge knowing if my mother showed up, she wouldn’t click her tongue at my audacity.
Day one, our first meal together. Some clan members were not hungry, so they stayed upstairs playing games. No one can ever
What is dinner without raucous laughter?
My favourite part had to be the dinners and lunches. We all sat together on the floor, the clan catching up with each other while simultaneously trying to get to know the foreigner in their midst. We talked about travel, politics, food, the differences and similarities between our cultures. No topic was off the table, my love life or lack thereof, my age, even grooming. Upon noticing my manicure, one of the older women came to sit next to me and showed me her pinkies. “Do you know why I only paint the pinkies?” She asked. “You ran out of nail polish?” I joked. She threw her head back and convulsed with laughter. “No. I do it for drinking tea. I drink my tea like the queen.” It was my turn to bend double with laughter.
Let’s eat, but first, picture.
A slow rise
Given the previous night’s debauchery, I was not surprised to be the first one among the “kids” to wake up first. At 02:00, when I retired, they were still playing Splendor. The first of February — Lunar New Year is the day I was most excited about — it would expose me to the Korean culture in a way I haven’t been before. By 09:00, the house was still dead silent, but the inviting smell of food was starting to slowly spread around the home, indicating that Sunyoung and the matriarchs were already cooking for the gods.
Imagine growing up playing Tetrix (Ubongo) all your life, then in your adulthood have an eight-year-old, handing your tail to you.
I have learned that in Korea, rock, paper, scissors is a solution to everything. I mean everything. Here, Reul and I finished our round at the same time, so we had to do rock, paper scissors, to determine the winner.
A feast fit for the gods
Around 10:00, the men were then summoned downstairs to partake in the rituals. I don’t know why, but women only serve as cooks for this ritual. Even so, as a guest, I was the exception to the rule.
A shrine was set up. Two thick white candles were lit and put on the top corners of the table. At the bottom of the table sat a small bowl with sand and burning incense. Next to the incense was an enamel kettle and two traditional Korean teacups. Before the ceremony began, we were asked to open the windows and the doors to invite the ancestors in.
The ritual began with Hanteak’s father pouring a shot of 정종 (Jeong Jung) into the teacups, then running it over the candles while chanting, then he’d toss the contents into the teapot. After he poured a shot for each person, all the men would drop to their knees, place their foreheads on the floor, then stand up, only to repeat the act. He did for his only child Hantaek, his nephews, his younger brother, and himself.
Fresh fruit, nuts and a variety of meats to please the ancestors.
A father, a son and a granddaughter. Three generations of Hantaek.
Two opposing beliefs but no war
All the men (except Hyonje because he’s Christian) would bow two times in front of the shrine. Then Mr Hanteak would murmur something to the gods. Watching these men interact in this way was terrific. Sunyoung told me her father-in-law was asking the gods to look favourably upon his family. Here, the family taught me a humbling lesson. Just because we don’t have the same beliefs, it doesn’t mean we’re at war. We can co-exist even though we disagree with each other’s religions.
“Bow down before the one you serve, you are going to get what you deserve.”
We treat them as we would a living person.
The table was fully decked with food, traditional dishes like *tteoguk (떡국) and *tangkuk (탕국) were the show stoppers. “These dishes we only ever eat on big holidays. “The soups we believe will bring us longevity, they’re very special dishes to us”, Sunyoug explained.
The table looked like it would cave in with the amount of food on it already, but the women kept bringing out more food. Seeing the shock on my face, Sunyoung volunteered to treat the dead like they were still here with us, so the food had to come out hot and fresh. “Look at the fruit. We found the best in town. My mother-in-law even plants watermelons even though it’s out of season so that she can offer it to the gods.” Once the women had brought out all the food, the oldest of the brothers started spooning rice into bowls of water. This action signifies that the ceremony is ending.
The first round of food. In total, the matriarchs made three food runs, and somehow they managed to make it all fit in that tiny table. Women are magicians, I tell you.
The quickest quid I’ve ever made in seconds
Remember how I said the dinner was my favourite part? I take that back. After the ceremony, the adults (that being Sunyoung’s in-laws and extended family members, sat on the couch. Sunyoung invited me to line up next to all the “kids”. Then we all bowed before the adults at the same time. I didn’t know doing this would make me 50,000 won. The family didn’t have to give me money at all. But I should’ve known, that something like that would happen, given how welcoming everyone was.
The send-off
After the ceremony, Hantaek, the oldest of the kids, was tasked with ushering the ancestors out of the home. He carried a small wooden tablet in the shape of a hanok (a traditional Korean house). I followed him to the end of the yard, where he burned the paper with the names of the departed. We went back inside and had a feast. And just like that, Lunar New Year was over.
It’s time to go home now. It was a great feast.
Hantaek recited the names of his ancestors as he watched the paper burn. In Xhosa, we would say, ebezithutha.
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