|The Lovely Grace. |
Wrangling with a hand-tied bouquet.
So...I agreed. I can’t afford the weekly class, but the teacher – a licensed floral arranger and mom of an adorable 2nd grader at my kids’ school – lets me pay ala carte for monthly visits to the class. And after 4 classes, it's high time to report on the experience for my dear (if lately neglected) readers.
The class is in a humongous Korean church that promotes community education-type programs (see the earlier nail salon here) . Now, when I say “class” and “humongous church,” you'll need to revise the picture in your head of a cavernous space filled with rows of Koreans working in robotic unison. No. Seriously, folks. The biggest class I’ve been to had 6 people, including me and Grace, and we meet in a little conference room with perfectly normal people.)
|Two students, the teacher, and the requisite cup of coffee.|
Which you have to accept graciously
but you don't have to drink.
When we arrive, we usually help the teacher set up the room. Note: I do not know the teacher’s name. In Korea, names are far less important than status-related titles like “teacher.” (My own newest title is “Wife of an Important Man” because Nick is the school’s headmaster. And, for the curious feminists, the answer is “no.” There is no Korean term for “husband of an important woman.”)
|Flower Teacher Lady.|
|Flower Teacher with Floral Foam.|
Teacher then hands out the flowers (e.g., roses, ranunculus, delphiniums) and supplies and we set to work. Depending on the arrangement type, we remove stems (it felt terribly wasteful at first), de-thorn as needed, and try to abide by the guidelines as we place flowers and greens. We grumble quietly at our difficulties, share tips for stabbing weak stems into sturdy floral foam, and sneak peeks at others’ creations to measure our own progress. Teacher, being entirely Korean, comes around to correct us. I, being entirely American, expected to receive affirmation just for effort. Nope. She is kind, but has standards that she is quite willing to repeat. Repeatedly. Accompanied by the plucking out of poorly-placed flowers.
|Grace in action.|
|Me, about to throw this impossible hand-tied bouquet|
across the room.
At the end of an hour or so, it’s time for the Korean Photo Ritual. Our arrangements are displayed together (sometimes we pose with them) and photographed half to death by every person in the room (and sometimes the church photographer). We are very nice to each other. We each secretly believe our arrangement is the best.
|Hand-tied bouquets with neutral wrapping tones are IN this season.|
|Heart-shaped wreaths. Can you see which one is mine?|
It's the best one. Obviously.
|Candlestick centerpieces (the wall sign says Joyful Church). I got a bonus orchid this week,|
just for being white. Poor Grace.
Finally, Teacher helps us wrap our arrangements, which includes a dizzying array of carefully-folded plastic tissue paper, ribbons, and classy stickers advertising her floral shop. Packaging is an art for which I do not have much patience; Teacher always always re-ties my bows. I try not to be resentful.
So, I've done this four times. Is the social stress worth it? Yes. And again, yes. I really enjoy the class once I’m there, and I love having a gorgeous arrangement of flowers in my home. Which I might parade around the house, saying “Hey! Do you know who made this amazing arrangement? ME!” You're welcome, White people.
|P.S. Another white lady has joined the class! |
Adre is a delightful German South African
who's lived in Korea for 10 years.
P. P. S. I've posted several brief videos of our last flower class, including the Serious Korea Wrapping Process. Enjoy!