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New York
Times article about
Many South Korean Bachelors Seek to Marry Foreign Ladies
“Reaching for a Better Life: Wives and Worries In Marriage
Market,” by Norimitsu Onishi, New York Times,
as republished in the Manila Bulletin, March 3, 2007.
HANOI, Vietnam---It was midnight here in Hanoi, or already 2 a.m. back in
Seoul, South Korea. But after a five-hour flight on a recent Sunday, Kim
Wan-su was driven straight from the airport to the Lucky Star karaoke bar
here, where 23 young Vietnamese women seeking Korean husbands sat waiting in
two dimly lighted rooms.
”Do I have to look at them and decide now?” Mr. Kim asked, as the marriage
brokers gave a brief description of each of the women sitting around a
U-shaped sofa.
Thus, Mr. Kim, a 39-year-old auto pars worker from a suburb of Seoul, began
the mildly chaotic, two-hour process of choosing a spouse. In a day or two,
if his five-day marriage tour went according to plan, he would be wed and
enjoying his honeymoon at the famed Perfume Pagoda on the Huong Tich
Mountain southwest of here.
More and more, South Korean men are finding wives outside of South Korea,
where a surplus of bachelors, a lack of marriageable Korean partners and the
rising social status of women have combined to shrink the domestic market
for the marriage-minded male. Bachelors in China, India and other Asian
nations, where the traditional preference for sons has created a
disproportionate number of men now fighting over a smaller pool of women,
face the same problem.
Now, that industry is seizing on an increasingly globalized marriage market
and sending comparatively affluent Korean bachelors searching for b rides in
the poorer corners of China and Southeast and Central Asia. The marriage
tours are fueling an explosive growth in marriages to foreigners in South
Korea, a country whose ethnic homogeneity lies at the core of its
self-identity.
In 2005, marriages to foreigners accounted for 14 percent of all marriages
in South Korea, up from 4 percent in 2000.
After an initial set back---his first three choices found various reasons to
decline his offer---Mr. Kim narrowed his field to a 22-year-old college
student and an 18-year-old high school graduate.
”What’s your personality like?” Mr. Kim asked the college student.
”I’m an extrovert,” she said.
The 18-year-old asked why he wanted to marry a Vietnamese woman.
”I have two colleagues who married Vietnamese women,” he said, adding, “The
women seem devoted and family-oriented.”
One Korean broker said the 22-year-old, who seemed bright and assertive,
would adapt well to South Korea.
“Well, since I’m quiet, I’ll choose the extrovert,” Mr. Kim said finally,
adding quickly, “Is it O.K. if I hold her hand now?” She went over to sit
next to him, though neither dared to hold hands. She spelled out her name in
her left palm: Vien. Her name was To Thi Vien.
In South Korea, billboards advertising marriages to foreigners dot the
countryside, and fliers are scattered on the Seoul subway. The business
began in the late 1990s by matching South Korean farmers or the physically
disabled mostly to ethnic Koreans in China, according to brokers and the
Consumer Protection Board. But by 2003, the majority of customers were urban
bachelors, and the foreign brides came from a host of countries.
The widespread availability of sex-screen technology for pregnant women has
resulted in the birth of a disproportionate number of South Korean males.
And South Korea’s growing wealth has increased women’s educational and
employment opportunities, even as it has led to rising divorce rates and
plummeting birthrates.
Critics say the business demeans and exploits poor women. But brokers say
they are merely matching the needs of Korean men and foreign women seeking
better lives.
”But this business will get more difficult as these countries get richer,”
said Won Hyun-jae, the owner of i-Bombit, another agency. “Now, even a
disabled Korean man can find a Vietnamese bride. But eventually Vietnamese
women will ask why they have to go marry a Korean man when life in Vietnam
is good.”
The other client who traveled with Kim Wan-su was Kim Tae-goo, 51, grows
ginseng and apples on the land he owns in Yeongju. He had recently divorced
a Chinese woman he married after the death of his first wife, a Korean
woman. He lives with his 16-year-old daughter and his elderly mother.
”My 16-year-old daughter lives with me, and I’m a farmer,” Mr. Kim said to
one of the women at the Lucky Star Karaoke bar, most of whom were in their
early 20s. “Is that O.K. with you?”
”I know how to farm,” said Bui Thi Thuy, 22, one of the two women Mr. Kim
eventually focused on.
Asked whether she had any questions, Ms. Thuy said she had none. But the
other woman, an earnest 28-year-old in a light-green jacket, asked, “If I
marry you, will you love me and take care of me forever?”
”Of course,” Mr. Kim answered, then quickly settled on Ms. Thuy.
After a few hours’ sleep, the new couples and the brokers squeezed into a
van for the four-hour ride t the women’s home province, Quang Ninh, about
four hours east of Hanoi.
There, the couples would be interviewed by the local authorities before
register for their marriages.
Both Mrs. Vien and Ms. Thuy had friends who had married Korean men and
lived, happily it seemed, in South Korea. Like many Vietnamese, they were
also avid fans of Korean television shows and movies, the so-called Korean
Wave of pop culture that has swept all of Asia since the late 1990s.
Ms. Vien had registered two years earlier with a broker for marriages with
Korans. Her father, a construction worker for a local farm, was able to send
her to college.
By contrast, Ms. Thuy was one of five children of rice farmers. She had
registered with the agency soon after graduating from high school.
”A friend of mine married a Korean man and now lives in Seoul,” Ms. Thuy
said. “We talk on the phone sometimes. She’s very happy. She says there are
so many people and tall buildings in Seoul.”
At age 22, she said, half of her peers had already married. As she waited to
marry, she helped with household chores, forbidden by her parents to engage
in the farm work that might blemish her looks.
The younger Mr. Kim wrote a letter in Koran to his bride---trying to allay
the anxieties he saw on her face—but found no way to relay its meaning.
The couples bought Koran and Vietnamese dictionaries, pointing to words or
using broken English.
About 40 hours after landing here in Hanoi, the Korean men married their
Vietnamese brides in a double ceremony. The brides’ relatives waited at a
large restaurant here with expectant looks.
Sanding next to her daughter and her new son-in-law, Ms. Thuy’s mother,
Nguyen Thi Nguyet, 56, said: “This is a poor country, but conditions are
much better in Korea. I hope my daughter will have a better life there.”
But Ms. Thuy’s father, Bui Van Vui, 52, was displeased that his daughter was
marrying a man just one year younger than he was.
”I’m still very worried because of the age gap,” he said. “I’m slightly
relieved now that I see my son-in-law for the first time. But I can’t stop
worrying.”
As he left the restaurant, the father turned around at the entrance to take
a final look at his daughter. He pressed two fingers against his lips and
blew a kiss goodbye.
Later, Ms. Thuy said: “I was my father’s favorite. He really adores me and
is worried.”
She, too, was worried. “I know Korea only from television, bit it must be
very, very different from reality. I don’t know whether my new family will
like me, and I don’t know how I’ll adapt. I’m overwhelmed with worries.” |