#45. 막장 -- That k-drama sucks as if there is no tomorrow

K-dramas, as addictive as they can be, are full of clichés. If you take a step back, the majority of the plots can be described by the same sentences. An orphaned but optimistic girl meets a rich and handsome prince. The man's family, rich and huffy, can't accept this relationship and they try their best to sabotage it. Then the man's family hires assassins to kill the girl too, because actually, the man's family was responsible for the girl's parents' deaths. But then it turns out that one of the assassins hired to kill the girl is the girl's childhood sweetheart. Now they're in a love triangle... "Ugh!" you scream. "I've had enough of this ridiculousness!"

And it turns out that he girl's mother was actually not dead. She emerges out of nowhere to curse out her boyfriend, and slaps him with some kimchi.

Yes, I get it. The Koreans get it, too. But for some reason, you can't stop watching the drama, although you'll complain about it until the drama comes to an end.

Koreans do the same thing, actually. Except that dramas of this sort are so common that they have a word for it. The Koreans would complain:

이 드라마 줄거리 정말 막장이네. (The plot of this drama is really 막장.)

Informally, when I see the word "막장," I understand it as "having gone so far with the ridiculous plot that there is no way to salvage the drama from ever being respected again.

There are two interesting theories of where this word came from, though.

The first is that this word comes from "the end of the market day." The letter "막" is a Korean prefix that means "last." For example, "막차" means "the last car (bus) schedule of the day." And "장" means "market," mostly in the traditional sense of an open outdoor market that happens every few days. At the end of these market days, the vendors, not wanting to be stuck with spoiled goods, start calling out ridiculously low prices for their goods. The prices can sink as low as they want, just like the quality of the plots of some k-dramas. This might be where the word "막장" comes from.

The second is a little bit darker. Between 1950s to 1970s, Korea was a pretty terrible place to live. The country was just starting to recover from the destruction of the Korean war (and also, the Japanese occupation has just ended some 10 years ago), and Korea was very poor, at least as poor as most of the third world countries nowadays.

During this era, coal mining was one of the biggest industries that sustained the country. Korea exported a lot of coal to the US, and most Korean homes were heated by using 연탄 (or 구공탄, because it has nine holes: "구" means "nine" and "공" means "hole"), which burned more slowly than wood, and thus more convenient (This feels like ages ago, but I still have memories of going to my grandparents' house, which was in the outskirts of Seoul, and they burned 연탄 until the mid-90s. Some places, even in Seoul, still use it!)

Pre-usage, it's black. Once it's all burned off, it turns into white ash. You could use tongs to insert into the holes, so that you could transport them easily into the fire.

Thus, the production of coal was very important. However, as we all know, mining is a very dangerous business. For one, your life expectancy as a miner was drastically decreased, not only from the bad air in the mines, but also from the fact that being in the mine itself was very dangerous. It could collapse any minute, and the smallest accidents led to catastrophic results. In particular, the deeper in the mines you worked, the more dangerous risks you ran.

The deepest of the mines were called "막장." If you were working in the "막장" of the mines, you were regarded as someone who had nothing to lose. There was almost no oxygen, and if any part of the mines collapsed, you were sure to be buried in. Although the compensation was greater, you'd have to be in a very deep financial trouble to want to volunteer to work there. To this day, in the mining villages of Korea, the word "막장" is taboo.

Nonetheless, the Koreans feel that this describes the state of some terrible k-dramas. They've degenerated so far and all respect has been lost, that they have nothing to lose by creating another ridiculous plot twist!

As for the usage, this is pretty common. Of course, because of the derogatory nature of the word, you don't want to use it in any situations that could offend anyone. But if you called a k-drama "막장,"it likely won't be much of a problem in an informal company (unless you had a die-hard fan for that drama!) Look for this word in the comments of internet news articles describing the plots of some k-dramas!

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#44. 드립 -- How to compliment a fellow internaut on a post well done

Although I'm no expert in literature, it seems to me that a lot of value is placed on novel expressions (and cliché is, for the most part, hated.) If the Koreans could figure out a way to be a little less vulgar on the internet, the Korean internet could really be a treasure trove for the aspiring writers, and the Korean internet writers would be veritable literary connoisseurs.

From the ancient times, Koreans always have placed a lot of value on humour and satire. If there was a political problem, the literate people would write a fun novel meant to satirize the situation. The common folks would put on a show that makes fun of the higher-up political people. You've probably seen the traditional Korean masks called "탈." The Korean common folks would dance with these masks on in the busy marketplace (which became an artform called "탈춤" or "masked dance") so that people would not know the identity of the brave ones that dared to criticize the powerful people. Koreans believe that by laughing about a problem together, at least there would be moral support for the difficult times that they must endure together.

A masked dance like this possibly originated from making fun of a corrupt Buddhist monk (who is supposed to remain celibate) associating with women -- even with this public display, the identity of the dancers were kept secret thanks to the mask (탈).

The tradition of humour continues to this day, and the internet users of Korea often hopes to come up with a fresh expression that makes people laugh. For example, I have previously written about someone complaining about no meat in his meal.

The opposite word of cliché is probably "ad lib," or "애드립" in Korean, which underlines spontaneity and the novelty. Koreans have shortened this word to "드립" to talk about the new expressions.

As an aside, this shortening makes a lot of sense to the Koreans; remember that most Korean names are three letters, and the first letter is the last name -- for example, "정윤호" is a name of a Korean, whose first name is "윤호" and whose last name is "정." If you wanted to be friendly with this person, you just call them by their first name "윤호." Koreans use this approach to a lot of three-letter words. If you wanted to convey the feeling of vulgarity, you often drop the first letter of a three-letter word and use the latter two letters, if the first letter does not contribute in a major way to the meaning of the word. For example, "아줌마" often gets abbreviated to "줌마" which is a lot more vulgar and familiar in style.

Anyway, "드립" in Korean now applies to an extremely wide variety of internet posts that are spontaneous and funny in nature. It could refer to an entire post that is humorous and unexpected, or it could refer to a single sentence or even just a phrase that brings humour to a situation. For example, here is a post from DC Inside (Korean Reddit) that is considered to be a pretty funny 드립:

The poster spontaneously decided to post about his lunch, as shown in his title "오늘 점심밥" (today's lunch). He then posts a picture of some fries and coke, and writes in the body: "My hamburger got stolen by some elementary school bastard while I went to the counter to get some ketchup."

"초딩" is a standard slang for "elementary school student" (and we also have the words 중딩, 고딩, 대딩, and 직딩, for middle schoolers, high schoolers, university students, and people who work.) "새끼" means a "bastard" and you can pretty much add it to any noun to express your displeasure. For example, if you don't like your teacher, you can say "선생 새끼" or if you just bumped your toe into a table, you can say "테이블 새끼." While it is considered a bad profanity in real life, in most internet communities, it is just another word. Anonymity of the internet does wonders!

"시발" is like "f-ing" and you can pretty much add it to any part of your sentence to convey to the readers that you're upset or angry about something. Any of these would be a valid and natural sentence to a native Korean (I don't understand the grammatical workings, but putting "시발" in any other place would seem unnatural; perhaps you can figure out the rules, in which case, please comment to let me know!):

시발 햄버거는 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 어떤 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 시발 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 어떤 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 케찹가지러 시발 카운터 간사이 어떤 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 시발 어떤 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 어떤 시발 초딩새끼가 훔쳐감

햄버거는 케찹가지러 카운터 간사이 어떤 초딩새끼가 시발 훔쳐감

In any case, the original poster of the above was complimented of his "드립" by the other DC Inside users, for being funny, original, and unexpected. The users might have said things like:

ㅋㅋㅋ 드립보소 (Look at the 드립 of this guy!)

or

드립 죽인다 (the 드립 is so good that it could kill)

There are many words that are born from "드립" which is more or less a root word at this point in the Korean internet, but I will have to deal with those some other time, as this post is already pretty long! However, if you ever wanted to compliment a funny post, try using the word "드립" to refer to the post!

While this word is not offensive in any way, due to the fact that slang is often used within a certain demographic group, you should only use this with your friends, or on the internet.

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#43. 종범 -- Invisible

Baseball is a huge part of the Korean sports scene. In fact, there are multiple internet communities dedicated to the discussion of baseball. The two major ones that I can think of are MLB Park (엠팍 for short in Korean) and 국내야구 갤러리 (야갤 for short in Korean) of DC Inside. In theory, the former is more concerned with the major league baseball, and the latter with the Korean league, but n reality, these distinctions don't really exist. (As an aside, if you're planning to join one of these communities as a way to practice your Korean, I recommend MLB Park, as the 야갤 users have somewhat of a shady reputation, and it is one of the rougher areas of the Korean internet geography...)

Anyway, once upon a time, there was a huge debate on MLB Park pertaining to the best shortstop of the Korean baseball league. The two candidates were 이종범 and 양준혁, both of whom are legendary players. For my own lack of baseball knowledge, I won't get into the stats and try to make my own choice. However, the one thing that I can say for sure is that 이종범 had more enthusiastic fans.

While their stats were more or less similar to each other, the fans of 이종범 asserted that he was superior to 양준혁 because "he had something more not quantifiable in numbers."

This probably makes sense to his fans, but to the outsiders, it's nothing but a laughable claim. It almost seems like the last resort before definitively losing an argument, even. So the non-fans started making fun of this claim. Now, the first name "종범" of this unfortunate baseball player (who didn't do anything wrong other than being one of the two best players of his time!) also means "invisible," or "nonexistent."

Some Koreans decided to honour this unfortunate baseball player with the following photoshopped picture.

For example, if you didn't make the honour roll this semester, your friend might make fun of you by saying:

이번 학기 우등생 명단에서 네 이름은 종범이네 (Your name seems invisible in the honour roll this semester).

Or if your favourite singer releases a new song and it never makes it into the Korean music charts, you might say:

이번 신곡은 차트에서 종범이네 (The newest song seems nonexistent in the charts.)

 The main users of this neologism are men in their teens and early twenties, so there's the usual vulgarity that gets attached to such slang. Furthermore, some Koreans think that this word originated from ilbe (which probably has the worst reputation out of all of the Korean internet communities,) so if you use it nondiscriminately, you might come under fire that you did not intend. So I would use this word with care, and only among your closest friends or in certain internet communities such as ilbe, MLB Park, and 야구갤러리. Yet I still find this word to be entertaining in the uniquely Korean way. Such usage could only be born in a tight-knit community such as Korea!

As a final fun fact, apparently 이종범 himself is aware of this usage. As far as I know, he has not made any official statements about how he feels about it, but some Koreans think that this is disrespectful to the legendary baseball player.

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#42. 김칫국 드링킹 -- Being pathetic

Of course, there are many breeds of pathetic out there. The kind of pathetic people that I want to talk about are people like 준호. 준호 happens to have a crush on a girl 아영, and from any outsider's point of view, it's painfully clear that 아영 is not interested in 준호 at all. In fact, she goes out of her way to avoid 준호, to ensure that he doesn't get any false hopes.

준호, on the other hand, is not getting any hints. He thinks that 아영 is avoiding him because he thinks that 아영 has such a crush on him; that she is avoiding him to not make a fool of herself in front of him. 준호 regularly stresses out about whether 아영 would be okay with having just two kids. He already has a list of wedding guests, although he's excluded a few of their mutual friends since 아영 is sure to invite them even if he doesn't.

If 준호 ever came around to writing down his stresses on an internet forum, the Korean internet users would probably scold him using the following phrase:

김칫국좀 그만 마셔 ㅋㅋㅋ (stop drinking kimchi soup).

Or if they're younger, they might even say:

김칫국 드링킹하냐? (Are you drinking kimchi soup?)

Or

김칫국 원샷하는것좀 보소 (Look at the dude chugging down the kimchi soup).

This phrase actually has a very long history. And it features two everyday Korean food items beloved by the Koreans (but these don't seem very well-known or very loved by the non-Koreans.) These food items are 동치미 and 떡. Have you heard of these?

동치미 is a kind of 김치, but it might be different from the standard 김치 that you think of. There are some major differences between the two.

Despite the appearance, this is still a type of 김치.

동치미 doesn't use red pepper flakes (고춧가루). Since the redness of 김치 comes from the red pepper flakes, 동치미 is not red. The main ingredient of 동치미 is not the Korean cabbage (배추), but Korean radishes (무). Finally, 동치미 comes with a lot more soup than the regular 김치 (when you make it, a lot more water goes into it, so 동치미 has an appearance of being a watery soup, rather than 김치 looking like a vegetable.) It is still served cold.

My favourite part of 동치미 was always the soup. I was never really interested in the vegetables inside, but the soup is absolutely fantastic. It's cold, it's very light and flavourful, and when you're eating something greasy or heavy, you start craving a sip of the ice-cold 동치미 국물 (동치미 soup.)

One food that 동치미 pairs very well with is, of course, 떡 (rice cakes.) In my opinion, it pairs especially well with the type of 떡 called 백설기, which is just steamed rice flour. 백설기 is pretty boring as far as 떡 goes, and you can find other kinds of 떡 that is a lot more interesting and delicious. I especially dislike the relatively dry texture, since it crumbles, and it doesn't feel so different from eating a 고구마.

"백" means "white," and "설" means "snow" in Chinese. "백설기" got its name because rice flour looks like snow.

So when you eat food such as 백설기 (or 고구마, but that's irrelevant for this post), it's good to have some 동치미 국물 at hand. If you've never tried this food pairing, you should try it -- it's a classic Korean food pairing!

And so our ancestors started using a proverb (속담 in Korean) that goes:

떡 줄 사람은 생각도 않는데 김칫국부터 마신다.

 If someone says this to you, it translates to: "Drinking 김치 soup when the person holding the 떡 isn't even thinking of sharing with you." That is, you're expecting that you will be given 떡, and you've already set the table with some 동치미 soup, while the person with the 떡 has no intention of sharing. Awkward!

And this phrase applies perfectly to 준호, since he's setting the table with the proverbial 동치미 soup of wedding plans and planning for children, while 아영 doesn't even have any intention of dating 준호.

But Korea is a country of trends. While the above phrase is known to all Koreans, only the very elderly like my grandparents would use the full phrase. It often gets shortened to

김칫국 마시네 (you're drinking kimchi soup)

suppressing the mention of 떡. This phrase is probably the most common among the Koreans (even the elder people) without getting internet-vulgar.

The younger people of Korea are even more trendy, and they popularized this phrase by adding some humour into it. Instead of just saying "마시다" (to drink) which is standard Korean, they replaced it with the English word "드링킹" (literally, "drinking") to make it sound a little more vulgar and a little funnier. Remember that when a Korean word gets combined with an English word that has an easy Korean substitute, the result is often vulgar yet funny (이불킥 is another example.)

If you tell 준호 over the internet:

김칫국 드링킹 하냐? (Are you drinking kimchi soup?)

Then you've succeeded in using a trendy phrase, and you've possibly set yourself up for a little skirmish over the internet!

Of course, there are other vulgar substitutes for "마시다" such as "원샷때리다 (chug down in one gulp)" and that would achieve the same effect. In that case, you would say "김칫국 원샷하냐?" or "김칫국 원샷때리냐?"

Despite the long history of this phrase, I would use the neologisms only to close friends or over the internet, since the phrase itself already has an element of derision in it. But if you wanted to use it in the proverbial sense in the right context, you should be able to use it with everyone, with a little bit of tact!

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Listening Exercise with Transcript #7: Tunak Tunak Tun!

Korean fundamentally lacks a few sounds. The fact that there is no distinction between the English "R" and "L" is a well-known fact. In addition to this, Korean does not have the rolling "R" of Italian or Spanish, it does not have the guttural "R" or nasal sounds of French, or the guttural "CH" of German. These words are fairly hard to approximate with the Korean language system.

Despite this, Koreans realized that Korean is often excellent at approximating how the other languages sound, if you're willing to think outside the box a little bit. For example, here is how to approximate some of the more common English words (with an American accent) using Korean. The following pronunciation guide went viral on the Korean internet a couple of years back. Read it out loud and see how it improves the usual Koreanization of English words!

I've studied three European languages (French, German, and Italian), and I can vouch for the usefulness of Korean in approximating their sounds as well; in particular, their approximation of the vowels are superior to what I can do with the English language. For example, the French guttural "R" can be approximated with Korean "ㅎ" in some cases. The German ü (as in München) can be approximated by "뮌헨" which is much closer than what I can do with English, etc.

Although I know no Punjabi, it seems that Korean does a decent job of approximating their sound too. Here's a clip that went viral a good 20 years ago, that of "Tunak Tunak Tun."

And see how the Koreans approximated the lyrics using Hangul. See if you can follow along:

레에나아아아아아아아아아
흐아아아
아아아아아아아아아아아아
아아아
아아아아아아
어어어어어어어어어 어어어

뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다

돌날라봤자 뚱배발이빴올리 뚜빞을빨하자 빨을렐예뺘아~
돌날라봤자 뚱배발이빴올리 뚜빞을빨하자 빨을렐예뺘아~
돌날라봤자 뚱배발이빴올리 뚜빞을빨하자 빨을렐예뺘아~
돌날라봤자 뚱배발이빴올리 뚜빞을빨하자 빨을렐예뺘아~
돌날라아아아~

뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)

훈이야얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개구리야
얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개구리야
얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개구리야
얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개
구리야
술을열어볼래 해굿바람에비다야라

뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)

(instrumental)

돌날라간때 멜에날에한씀했누 댈래발이가슴일때 베리메리파스~
돌날라간때 멜에날에한씀했누 댈래발이가슴일때 베리메리파스~
돌날라간때 멜에날에한씀했누 댈래발이가슴일때 베리메리파스~
돌날라간때 멜에날에한씀했누 댈래발이가슴일때 베리메리파스~
돌날라아아아~

뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)

훈이야얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개구리야
얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개구리야
얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개구리야
얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개
구리야
술을열어볼래 해굿바람에비다야라

뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)

돌날랐구 짠놈맞춰껐얼때 말일가나홀랗게 락히삭히고
돌날랐구 짠놈맞춰껐얼때 말일가나홀랗게 락히삭히고
돌날랐구 짠놈맞춰껐얼때 말일가나홀랗게 락히삭히고
돌날랐구 짠놈맞춰껐얼때 말일가나홀랗게 락히삭히고
돌날라아아아~

뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)

훈이야얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개구리야
얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개구리야
얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개구리야
얄알안기라반기나이 베리나이야 청개
구리야
술을열어볼래 해굿바람에비다야라

뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)
뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫(읗) 뚫훍뚫훍뚫 따다다
(옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ옭ㅎ)

So, it's pretty hilarious for several reasons. First of all, most of these letters never get used in the Korean language (such as 읗 or 훍). And because they never get used, they just look really weird and funny to a native Korean speaker. Also, you are probably aware that the Koreans abbreviate laughter "haha" by "ㅎㅎ" so the excessive usage of the alphabet "ㅎ" gives a weird kind of hilarity to the Hangul lyrics (imagine a song lyric that went lololololol or something!) Even the words that get used repetitively are often used in funny contexts:

• "뚫" is only used in the word "뚫다." You use this word to describe drilling a hole, but also to describe how you unclog a toilet.
• "뚱" really only gets used in "뚱뚱하다 (chubby)" or "뚱하다 (sulking, or unresponsive)" both of which are mild insults.

Secondly, although most of the lyrics is gibberish, there are a few words that are clearly recognizable (but of course, they have no context, so it's weird and funny!)

• "돌날라봤자" means "even if you carry stones." What?
• "짠놈" means "a very cheap dude," or "very salty dude." Again, what?
• "청개구리" is a species of frogs, but in Korean, it also means "someone who does everything that they're asked to do backwards." Huh?!

And lastly, if you read the lyrics obeying all the pronunciation rules (and make up a few when there isn't a rule because the letters don't actually exist!) the approximation is uncanny.

So, I found these lyrics to be absolutely hilarious (and cried a little from laughing too hard while listening to it the first time.) I hope you appreciate it, too!

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#41. 청개구리 -- You little contrarian

Here's a short story that every Korean knows. It goes by the title "말안듣는 청개구리," or "the tree frog that never listened."

This is a "청개구리," a species of frogs that you see often in Korea. The letter "청" means "green or blue (depending on context)," and in this case, it means "green." You see it in "청바지 (blue jeans)" or "청와대 (blue-roofed house; the Korean white house)."

Once upon a time, there lived a mother tree frog ("청개구리" meaning green frog) and a baby tree frog in a little pond.

The little tree frog was such a bad frog, and it would do the exact opposite of what the mother frog told it to do. If the mother frog told it to not play by the pond because it was dangerous, it would jump right into the pond to play. If the mother frog told the baby frog not to go in the woods, it would run straight away into the woods.

The mother frog was so heartbroken and stressed by the baby frog's behaviour, that she eventually became sick (perhaps with cancer: Koreans believe that the illness of the mind leads to the illness of the body.) Even when the mother frog was sick, the baby frog continued to disobey its mother and make her worry even more.

The mother frog knew that she didn't have much more to live. She called the baby frog to her deathbed, and asked, "When I die, please bury me by the river." She knew the contrarian nature of the baby frog, and she wanted to make sure that the baby frog would bury her in the field far away from the water, so that her grave will not wash away during the rainy months. With these words, the mother frog died.

The baby frog, heartbroken and full of remorse, was so overcome with grief and regret over its behaviour towards its mother that it decided that it would grant the last wish of its mother. The baby frog buried the mother frog by the river.

And ever since then, the baby frog is so overcome with worry that the mother frog's grave will wash away that it cries loudly by the river during the rainy months.



This is one of the most well-known stories in the Korean oral tradition. It is so well-known that the Koreans now call the people who act in a contrarian way "청개구리." This is not particularly trendy slang, as even my grandmother used to call me a "청개구리" when I wouldn't listen to my mother. She would say things like:

우리 손녀가 청개구리네 (My granddaughter is a tree frog.)

Despite the non-trendiness, it is still used widely (and safe to use in any context), and I was reminded of this story because the word "청개구리" came up while I was browsing the internet. To me, this is another instance that illustrates the rich culture that is shared by all Koreans, and another barrier that needs to be overcome by the non-native speakers.

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#40. 호모나 게이득 -- A contradictory society

I find Korea to be a country full of contradictions. One of the things that I find to be the most strange is its attitude towards the same-sex relationships.

Just like in any country, the younger people tend to be more open about the same-sex relationships, although many elder people will openly speak out against it. In any case, the Koreans tend to be a lot more conservative about it as a whole. Misinformation and prejudice is definitely present, and most non-heterosexual people stay closeted, so to speak. I suppose a part of the reason is that the men are expected to complete a mandatory military service, where you share the same room and shower together in an open space, and if you reveal that you are gay, you could be ostracized, although I don't think this is the entire reason.

A good Korean friend of mine, who completed her high school education in Korea and moved to North America, still finds the idea of same-sex relationship difficult, in that while she is fine with most such relationships, she is uncertain how she would react if her (hypothetical) children turned out to be not heterosexuals. She admits that her attitude is because of her upbringing in Korea, where "fitting in" is always emphasized more than your individuality.

So I am always confused when Koreans go wild over manhwa (Korean version of anime) scenes depicting romance between two male characters (of course, they're also into romance between two female characters, but I want to talk about the male relationships in this post.) I really have no explanation for why they are so open towards same-sex relationships in anime (in Korean, they're often called BL for Boy Love or GL for Girl Love), but have such difficulty translating this into real-life stuff.

There's a particular phrase that the Koreans use to cheer on BL, especially when it was unexpected, which I find to be hilarious (albeit confusing, given their usual attitude!) When a manhwa scene shows a sweet romance between two male characters, the commenters often scream

호모나 게이득!

I find this phrase to be so clever, because it is a classic example of double entendre (or, double sens dans le vrai français -- desolée, Francophone readers!) When you read the phrase out loud, it sounds very similar to "어머나 개이득!" which is precisely what it is trying to say. "어머나" is just an exclamation of surprise (because a conservative Korean doesn't expect to see BL in most places) and "개이득" is a vulgar exaggeration of the word "이득" which means "gain" or "windfall." So the phrase "어머나 개이득" means "wow, what a f-ing lucky day!"

However, the phrase also has a second meaning. The reason why "어머나" was substituted for "호모나" is because "호모" is short for "homosexual" in Korean. Similarly, "게이득" has been substituted for "개이득" because "게이" is how Koreans write the word "gay."

To sum up, this phrase reflects the Koreans' joy at seeing a romantic scene between two men. Really?!!

Unfortunately, it is really used exclusively online. First of all, because of the similarity in its pronunciation to "어머나 개이득," people wouldn't necessarily get it when you say it out loud. Secondly, Korea is not yet so liberal that these kinds of comments are appropriate in public (nor will you see a ton of such displays of affection.) You don't really comment on how awesome it is too see public displays of affection anyway!

In any case, I find it encouraging that Korea is still progressing, and they're keeping their humour sharp!

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