Sulli

I always thought of myself as an emotionally stable person. I don't cry much, and I rarely make emotional rash decisions. When I heard of Sulli's passing, I surprised myself by thinking about her all day, then I was even more surprised when tears came that evening.

But if I was going to cry for any celebrity ever (which I thought would never happen), it was going to be for Sulli. I was never her fan (to be fair, I don't think I could ever be anyone's fan), but I have always admired her, not only for her striking beauty (I had written about that in a previous post), but also for her courage for standing up to the Korean society. In a place where women (and in particular, girl groups) have a very rigid standards for how to look, how to behave, and how to speak, she was a true rebel who was not afraid to fight against all of Korea. She has opened the stage for discussing many things that were too taboo to speak before, and I do not doubt that she has made Korea a better place.

So many of her photos online are smiling, and I never saw this coming. I learned that she once cried on her Instagram Live; the newspapers wrote this up as "The antics of Sulli continues."

Many Koreans used to say that Sulli would have been more successful if she were a Hollywood celebrity, and I can't agree with that more. Korea was truly too small for her. I hope that she'll be happy wherever she is now.

I thought that I'd share a song that I listen to often when I'm down and feeling hurt by the others, because it seems appropriate now, too.




웃고 있는 그 표정 너머에
Beyond the smiling face

진심까지 꿰뚫어 볼 순 없어요
I can't see through you
그저 따라서 웃으면 그만
All I can do is to smile with you.




누군가 힌트를 적어 놨어도
Even if someone has written down some hints
너무 작아서 읽을 수가 없어요
They are too small to read

차근차근히 푸는 수밖에
All I can do is to solve them step by step.



그렇다 해도 안경을 쓰지는 않으려고요
Even so, I don't want to wear glasses
하루 온종일 눈을 뜨면 당장 보이는 것만
I'm busy enough keeping my eyes open
보고 살기도 바쁜데
and look at the things that my eyes see



나는 지금도 충분히 피곤해
I'm already tired enough
까만 속마음까지 보고 싶지 않아
that I don't need to look through the dark hearts
나는 안 그래도 충분히 피곤해
Because I'm already tired enough



더 작은 글씨까지 읽고 싶지 않아
I don't want to read the fineprints
공들여 감춰놓은 약점을
Or find the weaknesses that one has concealed carefully
짓궂게 찾아내고 싶진 않아요
Because that's not nice

그저 적당히 속으면 그만
I'd rather be kinda fooled




무지개 뒤편엔 뭐가 있는지
I can't see what's beyond the rainbow
너무 멀어서 보이지가 않아요
Because it's too far
대단한 걸 상상할 수밖에
I guess I'm just going to imagine something amazing



그렇다 해도 안경을 쓰지는 않으려고요
Even so, I don't want to wear glasses
속고 속이고 그러다 또 믿고
I'm too busy fooling them, and be fooled, and then trust again
상상을 하고 실망하기도 바쁜데
I'm too busy to imagine and be disappointed



나는 지금도 충분히 피곤해
I'm already tired enough
누구의 흠까지 궁금하지 않아
I don't want to wonder about others' flaws

나는 지금도 충분히 피곤해
I'm already tired enough

좀 더 멀리까지 보고 싶지 않아
I don't want to see further
나는 지금도 충분히 피곤해
Because I'm already tired enough
무거운 안경까지 쓰지 않을 거야
I don't want to wear heavy glasses
나는 안 그래도 충분히 피곤해
Because I'm already tired enough
더 각진 안경까지 쓰지 않을 거야
that I don't want to wear the pointy sharp glasses







If only we could have accepted Sulli for who she was.

Rest in peace, Sulli. You deserve it so much. But I'll miss you.

Read more

#133. 내로남불 -- Romance for me, infidelity for you

One of the things that always impress me when I meet a foreigner trying to learn Korean is when they use a 사자성어 (four-letter proverbs) in their sentences. Korean has an abundance of four-letter proverbs in its vocabulary, and even among native Koreans, knowing a lot of 사자성어 is a mark of your intellect, as these often come with a back story, or you simply need to know a lot of hanja to decipher its meanings. Only a well-read person could casually throw in 사자성어 into their daily conversations, and it is a sign that you are proficient in hanja, history, and philosophy. You might say something like:

"지수는 사자성어를 많이 써서 정말 유식해보여" (Jisoo sounds so smart because she uses so many four-letter proverbs.)

Here's an example of a nice 사자성어: A king is like a raft, while the people are like the water (군주민수). While the people lift and worship the king much like water does a raft, it is also water that sinks the raft. Deep, right?

Of course, out of tens of thousands of 사자성어 that exist, an average Korean probably knows a hundred or less. And why not? The ignorance of the four-letter proverbs doesn't really hinder your ability to have an exciting conversation.

Nonetheless, it is still fun to try to sound smarter. And so, Koreans started coming up with fake four-letter proverbs. In this new wave of slangs in the era of the internet, the reigning philosophy became that "anything four-letter goes". Unlike the classical four-letter proverbs that always come from hanja, these new four-letter proverbs are often an abbreviation of an existing phrase.

Koreans like shortening sentences and words already (for example, "남자친구 (boyfriend)" becomes "남친", a male friend becomes "남사친", meaning "남자친구아니고 사람 친구 (not a boyfriend, just a human friend)", and "iced americano" becomes "아아", short for "아이스아메리카노"). So shortening particular phrases that get used a lot into four-letters became a fun game.

One of the most common "fake" four-letter proverbs that are being used nowadays is "내로남불." It is shortened from the phrase

"내가 하면 로맨스, 남이 하면 불륜." (Romance for me, infidelity for the others.)

 As you might easily guess (and these "fake" four-letter proverbs are much easier to guess the meanings!), this phrase is used to criticize someone who is overly generous with themselves, while using a much harsher standard for the others. And of course, everyone knows that someone who found the love of their lives for the fifth time, while being married. While they might romanticize their situation as a romantic escapade, these people are usually not so tolerant towards the others (or heaven forbid, should their partner cheat on them!)

Take Cho Kuk (조국), for example, who is the newfound Korean icon of 내로남불.

Meet Cho Kuk. His name is synonymous to "my country (조국)"; and his Twitter handle, @patriamea, of course, means "my country" in Latin!

He is the newly appointed minister of justice of Korea. Prior to his political life, he was a professor of law at the Seoul National University, which is the most prestigious of all universities in Korea. He was actively involved in politics since his college days, but his fame seems at least partially based on his good looks and his Twitter account, in which he did not hesitate to criticize the injustice of the Korean society.

For example, in this tweet, he criticizes the competitiveness of the Korean society. He says: "We all like the rags-to-riches stories (in Korean: a dragon rose from a small stream). However, our society now is a rich-gets-richer type society, and the chances of going from rags to riches is very low. Not everyone needs to be a dragon, and there is no need. The more important is that we can be happy in our small streams living as fish, frogs, or crayfish. Let's not compete unnecessarily, and make beautiful streams instead!"

Many people found his words comforting, direct, and inspiring. However, when he was named by the president to be the next minister of justice, stories started coming out.

One such story concerned his daughter, Cho Min (조민), who is currently a medical student at Pusan National University. The stories alleged that Cho Min was struggling, essentially failing her classes every semester. Given that her undergraduate degree was from Korea University (one of the SKY universities and very prestigious!), this was very puzzling.

This is Cho Min.

The stories then said that while Cho Min was a high school student, she interned at a professor's medical lab at Dankook University (not as prestigious as SKY, but still 인서울, in-Seoul, and a well-known university) for two weeks, and became a first author of a paper. People suspected that she was accepted to Korea University based on her extracurricular activities, and not necessarily her grades.

Given that her father was being considered for the position of minister of justice, an investigation launched both at the official level involving the prosecution, and also the netizens of Korea. It was revealed that her high school grades were indeed very bad (to be fair, her high school is quite competitive, but she also took an SAT test, and received a score of 1970 out of 2400, which is certainly not at the level suitable for elite universities.)

Furthermore, her father explained that she was made the first author of her medical paper because she translated everything to English, as her English was very good from having lived abroad for two years when she was a child. Nonetheless, the committee of ethics of the Korean Society of Pathologists found this to be unethical practice, and retracted her paper. It seems likely (from the interviews of the officials who were involved with her admission) that this paper played a large role in her admission, and that she was admitted to this lab in the first place due to her father's connections.

It also seems that her parents (both professors at the time) forged awards and certificates for prestigious internships to support her application to the medical schools; while all this is still under investigation, the prosecution alleges that some definitive and objective evidence proving forgery were uncovered.

The students of Korea University were understandably enraged; they protested on their campus calling for the cancellation of her admission and to revoke her degree from Korea University. The university officials haven't responded yet. This clever poster reads "조국 조민 국민 조롱," or "Cho Kuk and Cho Min have mocked the people."

And so people started using the phrase "내로남불" more and more often. While Cho Kuk seemed perfectly happy to advise the Koreans not to strive so hard for the top, he was doing everything he can to ensure that his daughter will have the perfect pedigree and the perfect career (it is alleged but not at all proven that Cho Kuk may have pressured the medical school to not to fail his daughter).

People started saying things like:

"조국 내로남불 진짜 너무하네." (Cho Kuk went way too far with his 내로남불 attitude.)

"조국이 저정도로 내로남불이었다니, 완전 실망이야." (I didn't realize that Cho Kuk was so hypocritical, I'm so disappointed.)

And honestly, there are many other allegations (such as the one that Cho Kuk used his governmental position of senior secretary for civil affairs to have insider knowledge of governmental investments, and that he invested inappropriately) concerning his behaviour. No single article could summarize everything that has come to light, as Cho Kuk's entire family (including his mother, his cousins and his children) are under investigation, and his wife alone is under suspicion for having committed ten different crimes (including forgery of her daughter's university application material).

Millions of people came out to protest this injustice.

This political scandal is still ongoing, and Cho Kuk is still under investigation. Unfortunately, the president still saw it fit to appoint him as the minister of justice, and Cho Kuk's first mission as the minister of justice is to reform the prosecution. His policies have clear conflicts of interest and it looks like it will cause quite a stir in the near future (his nephew and his brother are already arrested, and his wife and his mother are under investigation; rumour has it that Cho Kuk is the ultimate target for the prosecution.)

Because of all this, and the nationwide outrage, a new phrase is coming into existence: Instead of 내로남불, people started saying "조로남불" (조국이 하면 로맨스, 남이 하면 불륜: Romance for Cho Kuk, Infidelity for everyone else.)

I'm not sure exactly how this scandal will calm down; I'm guessing that Cho Kuk will have to step down (previously, when another minister came under the investigation of prosecution, he called for immediate resignation of this minister via his Twitter account, another 조로남불!) but anything seems possible in this crazy story, which most Koreans find to be more intriguing than K-Dramas.

If you're interested in the Korean politics, I'd say that this is definitely worth following, as it has been interesting, entertaining, outrageous, and just crazy.

Read more

#132. Don't write your name in red (Shamanism 11)

The most successfully marketed piece of the Korean superstition is undoubtedly the folklore of fan death. It sounds incredible, but I grew up being scolded by my parents and grandparents for falling asleep with the fan on and door closed, and hearing stories of "near-death experiences" of my classmates, where they almost suffocated to death because they forgot to set the timer on their fan.

But in fact, the Koreans are quite superstitious; there are many other taboos in the Korean culture that were passed down through many generations. I encountered one such piece of taboo that I had forgotten about for many years just a few weeks ago.

I was headed home after a three-month stay in Paris, and I was doing some last-minute shopping at the Charles de Gaulle airport for my family, just minutes before boarding started. I hurriedly went to the counter, paid by my credit card, and the store clerk gave me the receipt to sign, and pushed a red pen towards me to use.

I'm not particularly afraid of airplanes, nor am I superstitious, but I had to resist the urge to pull out my own non-red pen and sign the receipt -- somehow, the fact that I was moments away from boarding a plane for some seven odd hours made me remember my mom (and my teachers) telling me not to write anyone's names in red, because that's bad luck. Like, really bad luck, as in death-grade bad luck. Just to bring closure to the story, I did end up signing my name in the red pen that the clerk gave me. I'm a woman of science, after all!

I had forgotten about this experience almost immediately, until my friend Jess brought this up in a completely unrelated conversation a few weeks later! She was completely confused about why Koreans avoided the colour red, especially when almost every Korean has a personal seal (called "도장") that you stamp on legal documents, using red ink.

If you don't have your own 도장, sometimes you press your fingers against the red ink, and stamp with your fingers instead.

Anyway, aside from the case of 도장, the Koreans generally avoid writing their names in red, and it would be a social faux pas to write someone else's name in red. I mean, what are you trying to do? Curse them to die?

No one ever explained to me why writing names in red was bad, so I did some research. It seems that there are three plausible explanations, and all of these are so interesting -- I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

1. Sejo of Joseon Dynasty

Sejo (세조), not to be confused with King Sejong (the creator of Hangul), was not a particularly well-regarded king. He was the second son of King Sejong, and thus not eligible for the throne. However, his older brother Munjong (문종) died after only two years on the throne, and his only son, Danjong (단종), was only twelve years old when he ascended the throne, and by this time, all of his grandparents and parents were dead. 단종 really didn't have anyone in the world who would look out for him.

Long story short, 세조 killed his nephew 단종 and became the king of Joseon. In the coup d'état that he staged, he planned to kill everyone who supported 단종, so he made a death note (called 살생부 in Korean). 

Many Koreans don't like to acknowledge Sejo as a proper king. So many people call him 수양대군 instead, refusing to use the -jo or -jong suffix accorded to kings, and using -대군 suffix for princes.

He used his nephew's name to call every highly ranked government official to the Gyeongbok Palace (경복궁), and killed everyone whose names were on the so-called death note. The legend has it that the names of the people to be killed were written in red.

2. Qin Shi Huang of China

Qin Shi Huang (진시황 or 진시황제), literally meaning the first (시) emperor (황) of the Qin Dynasty (진), is probably the most well-known Chinese emperor in Korea. Although he seems to have done well politically as well, he is known in Korea for his antics relating to shamanism. He built a large mausoleum for his afterlife (and didn't finish by the time he died), built the Great Wall of China, and searched everywhere for the herb of everlasting youth (불로초). 

This is what his tomb might have looked like; SO extra!

This obviously greedy man also loved the colour red; red was always a lucky colour in China (something that carried on to the present-day China), and Qin Shi Huang supposedly decreed that no one else was allowed to write their names in red. If someone broke this decree, they would be put to death. It is said that people were afraid of writing their names in red from then on, and this Chinese fear eventually made its way into the Korean peninsula.

3. The Korean War

During the Korean War (6.25전쟁 in Korean, because the war started in the morning of June 25), many young Korean men either volunteered or were drafted into the war. The Korean casualties were large, around 140,000 soldiers and an additional 350,000 civilians from South Korea were killed during the three years of war (and around 800,000 deaths in North Korea).

It is said that when the notices for the soldiers killed in action were sent to their families, their names were written in the notices in red. I can easily imagine people dreading seeing their loved ones' names in red, and it is the last plausible explanation for why the Korean people are so afraid of writing names in red.

If I had to make a choice among the three, I'd put my money on this last one; the Korean war was recent enough that many witnesses are still alive, my grandmothers included. And interestingly enough, North Koreans seem to have less fear of writing their names in red; often writing the Kim family's names in red. So it seems that this superstition is specific to South Korea only, which makes me think that this superstition came into being after the Korean War.

A North Korean textbook, talking about the great revolution Kim Il-Sung started (to be honest, I have no idea what revolution they're talking about!)

So, there you have it. I don't really love that the Koreans are so superstitious; nonetheless, it does make me a little bit more content that there seems to be an interesting piece of our history (or maybe three!) embedded in this particular superstition. Somehow, this makes it a little bit more okay for me!

Read more

#131. 삼행시, 사행시 -- Poems of the internet age (feat. Kang Daniel)

The past couple of days have been interesting for the K-pop fans. News first broke (from the legendary celebrity gossip outlet Dispatch) that Kang Daniel, formerly of Wanna One, is dating Jihyo of TWICE. The next day, another news outlet reported that Heechul of Super Junior is dating Momo of TWICE, although both parties denied this rumour quickly.

The newest power couple of the K-Pop world!

The Korean fans and the international fans never seem to see eye-to-eye on their idols dating. The Korean fans are almost always disappointed when their oppa gets a girlfriend; they claim that this is because being a fan of some celebrity is like being in a make-believe relationship, and that the celebrities have an obligation to uphold this fantasy, as this is where their income is generated. The international fans, of course, take a much more generous stand, and they seem happy when two of their favourite celebs become a couple.

The Koreans are especially upset when there is evidence that the star seemingly mocks their devotion, by openly acknowledging their girlfriends (for example, by devoting an Instagram post exclusively for their girlfriend, usually by using a secret code or an item), or by treating the fans as nothing but a cash machine (for example, asking for certain expensive items, or openly encouraging the fans to spend more money).

The most recent example of this is that of Kang Daniel. After Wanna One disbanded, Kang Daniel was banned from promoting in the entertainment industry due to a lawsuit between himself and his entertainment agency (in which it tried to exploit him in various ways, it seems). His fans really supported him through this difficult time, and when Kang Daniel won the lawsuit and announced the release of his solo album on July 25, his fans wanted to make his solo debut special.

The fans advocated "just eating rice with salt or soy sauce" to save money, and to buy more albums for Kang Daniel, for over six months

After having saved up money for over six months, many fans bought upwards of hundred albums (each album costs around $10 USD), and established an all-time record of 460,000 albums, the highest in for a solo singer in Korean history. On top of making a large profit, this ensured that Kang Daniel got the media attention, an established him as a very promising solo singer.

This is when things went sour for the Korean fans. A few days later, on August 5, when the scandal with Jihyo broke, the fans noticed that the original article had been entered into the website on July 20, a few days before Kang Daniel's solo debut.

Betrayed?

The news outlet Dispatch is known for publishing surprising scandals between top celebs of K-entertainment industry. They are also said to be quite humane, in that they don't publish scandals for rookies (as most fans would just drop their stars if they are not established enough and if they dare to get into a relationship too early in their career), and that they try not to cause too much financial harm.

So the fans theorized that Kang Daniel knew that this news was breaking, and that he made a deal with Dispatch to delay the publication date to a few days after his debut, so that his album sales would not be affected. He also held six fan signs in the two-week promotion period (which is, apparently, a lot more than most other groups). Of course, in order to get into a fan sign, you need to buy hundreds of albums to even get a chance at the lottery.

The Korean fans felt betrayed; it definitely feels as if all Kang Daniel cared about was ensuring that he gets all the profit from his album sales. And so the fans are now leaving the fandom. Kang Daniel wrote a letter to the fans thanking them a couple of days after the scandal, but he did not address this particular issue.

The Koreans pride themselves on their sense of humour, and this was just another occasion for some Korean internauts to boast just how funny they could be.

A 삼행시 has a fairly long tradition in the K-entertainment industry (and for normal Koreans too, as a result). As a way to entertain the audience, the participants are given a word, usually a name of someone else (so, for most Koreans, that's three letters). Then the participants are asked to write a poem, where each line of the poem starts with each of the three letters of the given word. The word "삼행시" literally means "three (삼) row (행) poem (시)."

Here are some funny examples:

In this photo, Mina of IOI was asked to compose a three row poem with the word "이상민," one of the panel members of the show "아는형님." 이상민 is currently known for his huge debt of over 10 million USD, and the fact that he's working very hard to repay it. And Mina composed the following poem using his name:

이번달까지 꼭 갚을게요! (I'll definitely repay it by the end of this month!)

상황이 좋지 않아서요 (Things are not so great right now)

민사 소송까지는... (Please, don't start a civil lawsuit)

You have to admit, it is pretty hilarious given the situation, if a bit crude (Korean humour is often like this!) Here is another example, using the name "서장훈," who is also on this show, and his divorce made national headlines many years ago.

Another panel member, 이수근, wrote the following 삼행시:

서장훈 (Seo Janghoon's)
장모님이 찾아와 (mother-in-law came and said)
훈서방 꼭 이랬어야만 했... (Hoon, did you really have to do this?)

Again, crude, hilarious, and befitting the situation.

Going back to the story of Kang Daniel, the Korean internaut below also decided to dedicate a poem to him and his situation. In this case, since Kang Daniel's name has four letters in Korean (강다니엘), this poem is a 사행시 (four-line poem), and not a 삼행시.

강다니엘입니다 (Kang Daniel here)

다름이 아니라 (I just want to say)

니들이 사준 (Thanks for all your)

엘범비 꺼억 (money for my album, *burp*)

So, yeah. The drama in the Korean internet is always entertaining to watch!

Read more

#130. Six more words with Japanese origin that you shouldn't use in Korea

It looks like the trade war is getting worse and worse, and it looks like the Koreans are really planning to make the Japanese boycott a long-term thing! I figured that I should also do my part by completing the second part of the blog post on the Korean words of Japanese origin.

Without further ado, here they are:


6. 쇼부(勝負, しょうぶ) --> 승부, 흥정 (to decide the winner for once and for all; to negotiate)

As I reflect on the correct translation of this word, I realize that this word is super interesting! The word "쇼부" simultaneously refers to the outcome, and the process of negotiation. Perhaps the Koreans (and maybe the Japanese too, although I don't speak enough Japanese to know!) saw winning and losing as a fluid thing; it's not just that there's a winner, they're also speaking about the process to determine the winner, and according to the Koreans, the process is just as important as the outcome!

So, for example, in a seven-game playoff final, two teams are currently tied at 3-3. As you walk into the stadium to watch the last game, you could tell your friends,

"드디어 오늘은 쇼부를 보겠군." (Finally, today, we get to see who comes out to be the winner.)

What you should be saying instead.

Or, two of your friends always brag about who is faster at that 100m dash. You have had enough of it, and you arrange for an actual match to take place; to convince the two friends to come and battle it out, you probably told them:

"맨날 싸우지만 말고 제대로 쇼부를 봐." (Stop fighting all the time, and let's see for ourselves who is faster.)

In a completely different context, you could be at a traditional market, and you're engaged in a back-and-forth price negotiation with a merchant. You want the item for $5, the merchant wants $10. You could suggest:

"7달러로 쇼부보는거 어때요?" (How about we negotiate and shake hands at $7?)

Interesting that in this case, there would be no winner, but that you can still use this word!

While this word doesn't have a great alternative in Korean, we can try to fix them: I would say

"드디어 오늘은 결과를 알 수 있겠군." (Finally I will know the outcome of this match)

"맨날 싸우지만 말고 제대로 한 번 겨뤄봐." (Instead of just arguing with words all the time, you should actually compete against each other.)

"7달러에 합의를 보는것 어때요?" (Let's agree on $7?) 

7. 땡땡이무늬 (てんてん(点点)) --> 물방울무늬 (polka dots)

So, usually I feel that the Korean language is richer than the English language, in the sense that I often come across the Korean words with no English translations, but not the other way around. The word "땡땡이무늬" is an exception; I don't think that there's a pure Korean word (of non-Japanese origin) that can accurately represent "polka dots." This word is also full of contradictions that confuse me to no end; allow me to explain.

Suppose that you have a random question that you want to ask your friend. The dialogue might go like this:

Me: 나 어제 무슨영화 봤게? (Guess what movie I watched last night?)
Friend: 음... 해리포터? (Hmm... Harry Potter?)
Me: 땡! (Wrong!)

I actually re-watched Scream last night. Not that you care.

Anyway, the word "땡" (spoken forcefully and loudly, to express the glee you feel when someone gets something wrong) means "wrong." In my head, it's onomatopoeic for that quiz-show buzzer that goes off when you get a question wrong (in Korea, often a single ring of a xylophone is used for an incorrect answer).  Of course, if we were grading an exam paper in Korea, a correct answer (you can say "딩동댕" because correct answers get three xylophone rings) is marked with a circle, and a wrong answer with a backslash (/, "땡!").

Nonetheless, the word "땡땡이무늬" means polka dots, and not backslashes.

I guess this is because in Japanese, the word "ten ten" (てんてん(点点)) means a small circular shape. And "무늬" just means "patterns." So, if you want to compliment your coworker's polka dot dress, you say:

"그 땡땡이무늬 드레스 진짜 잘 어울려." (That polka dot dress really suits you.)

So, in order to properly boycott Japanese, we would have needed a pure Korean word to replace "땡땡이" with; the Academy of the Korean Language suggests "물방울무늬" (waterdrop pattern). Perfect little circles aren't the first shapes that I think of when I hear "waterdrop," but I guess as the Korean say:

"이가 없으면 잇몸으로라도 살아야지." (If you don't have teeth, you make do with just your gums)

The popular Korean dish made from Tofu, eggs, meat, and vegetables, "동그랑땡" (Circular 땡; circle circle?) probably also comes from Japanese. I am completely lost on how to boycott the Japanese in this word, unfortunately! 

As a final parting thought, "skipping classes" in Korean is "땡땡이 치다." I'm pretty sure that this has no connections to the polka dots, though!


8. 스시 (寿司) --> 초밥 (sushi, vinegary rice)
사시미 (刺身) --> 회 (sashimi)

Here's  a quick one: "sushi," or "스시" when written in Korean, is Japanese. That is definitely not surprising, but the Koreans also have a pretty commonplace word to replace "sushi." Instead of saying "스시," you can say "초밥."

Yum!

"초" means vinegar ("식초"), and "밥," of course, is just rice. If you want to say salmon sushi, you say "연어초밥."

Similarly, "sashimi" is definitely Japanese, and Koreans instead say "회." If you want sashimi pieces out of red snapper (도미), you can say

"도미회 주세요." (Could I have some red snapper sashimi, please?)

9. 밧데리 --> 배터리, 건전지 (batteries)

The word "battery" is, of course, not Japanese. However, the Korean language evolved so quickly that you need to be careful even with the words of English origin! Some of these words coming from English were actually originally pronounced with a Japanese accent.

The word "밧데리" is a great example; the older generation, being much more familiar with Japanese (due to the colonial era, and the fact that the students were forced to study in Japanese), pronounced the word "battery" as "밧데리." This pronunciation is frowned upon, unless you're 70 years old or more. The word "밧데리" carries a negative connotation because of its association with Japanese, but also it feels OLD. Only the older people would use it; if you were writing a novel set in the 1960s, using this word would give a great feeling for the era.

Interestingly enough, although there is a Korean word for battery ("건전지"; dry power source), the word "배터리" is just as common, and comes with no negative connotation!

Here are some other words that can be pronounced with a Japanese accent, and a more acceptable way of saying them:

- extract: 엑기스 (Japanese pronunciation of "ex") --> 농축물
- running shirt: 난닝구 (Japanese pronunciation of "running") --> 런닝 셔츠
- sweatpants: 츄리닝 (Japanese pronunciation of "training") --> 트레이닝복
- overcoat: 오바 (Japanese pronunciation of "over") --> 코트
- salad: 사라다 (Japanese) --> 샐러드
- stainless steel: 스뎅 (Japanese pronunciation of "stain") --> 스테인레스 스틸
- dozen: 다스 (Japanese) --> 열두개 (12)

Fascinating that the Koreans differentiate between two foreign languages; they seem to be living the motto "Japan bad, America good." This, of course, reflects our history.


10. 기스 (きず) --> 흠, 긁히다

Still commonly used among even the younger Koreans, this word is often used to describe a new object (such as a car or a phone) being scratched. For example, you can say:

"어제 주차하다가 차가 담벼락에 닿아서 기스가 났어." (Yesterday I scratched my car while parking, because I scraped my car against a wall.)

Or

"핸드폰을 떨어뜨렸는데 다행히도 기스가 좀 난 것 이외에는 작동에 문제가 없어." (I accidentally dropped my phone, but aside from some scratches the phone is working fine.)

Here's a photo of a 기스-less phone!

The word "きず" means a "scar" in Japanese, so it feels quite appropriate for the situation that we're trying to describe; however, it is preferable to use a Korean word. You can instead say:

"어제 주차하다가 차가 담벼락에 닿아서 좀 긁혔어."

Or

"핸드폰을 떨어뜨렸는데 다행히도 본체에 흠이 좀 난 것 이외에는 작동에 문제가 없어." 

Currently, even the younger Koreans are using the word "기스" from time to time, but I do think that the Koreans are aware of the fact that this word is Japanese, and they would appreciate the effort of not using the Japanese word.


11. 구라 (晦ます)--> 거짓말 (lies)

This one is a bit complicated; people don't all agree that this word came from Japanese, but the evidence feels compelling enough to me that I have decided to include it in my blog.

There are two Japanese words that begin with gura-: One is "晦ます (くらます), guramasu," meaning "to disappear, or to deceive the observers." The other is "グラサイ, gurasai" which means a loaded die.

In Korean, "구라" means "to lie." For example, when you're sure that someone is exaggerating and lying, you can call them out by saying:

"구라치지마" or "구라까지마" (Don't lie).

This Korean celebrity's name is "김구라," or "Gura Kim." Of course, this is a stage name, probably chosen intentionally. 

Of course, this word is easy to fix without sacrificing much of the nuance. You can say instead:

"거짓말하지마."

"구라" is a bit more colloquial, but the nuance is uncomplicated, and you lose almost nothing by replacing "구라" with "거짓말" anywhere. So you can also say:

"거짓말치지마" or "거짓말까지마,"

although it is grammatically incorrect.

 

 

And that's it! As always, thank you for reading, and for waiting for new posts. My blog must be the most delinquent blog in terms of updates, and I am always grateful when I see that people still visit my blog :)

Read more

#129. 손절 -- no longer friends

A few months ago, I had a huge fight with a close friend of mine named Anna. Anna and I have known each other since we were about 15 years old, and we knew everything about each other. As the Koreans say:

"우리는 서로의 집에 숟가락이 몇개인지까지 아는 사이였다." (Our relationship was such that we even knew how many spoons were in each others' houses.)

We were always aware that we were polar opposites, and we were always amazed that we somehow made our friendship work for so long. But our trouble started when Anna decided to try a dating app. This particular dating app puts a lot of the burden on the men; I've never tried dating apps, but according to Anna, the men are expected to initiate the first contact, be in charge of setting up the dates, and several dates after the first one. It was supposedly disadvantageous for the women to initiate contact to men who have not already expressed interest.

I don't want to go so far as to call myself a feminist, because I have not actively done anything towards the cause, but I do believe in gender equality, and I thought it was a sexist dating app. I don't think I was alone in thinking this, because the men on that app seemed terrible. One forgot his wallet at home and his plan for the first date was about 30 minutes long; another showed up in running clothes because he planned to go running in an hour, at which point he presumed the date would be over; yet another one told her the wrong location for the first date because they wanted to meet up in a chain restaurant and he confused two chains. This was not surprising to me, because I'd hope that the better men would stay clear away from this app, and that they would want to date a woman who is not just meekly following along, no matter how terrible his plans might be!

Anyway, when I said this to Anna (obviously, I tried to word it more nicely), she got very mad at me, and started defending these men. I felt really hurt, because she was willing to defend these men that she's known for all of three days chatting on this app, against my honest criticism! I mean, I've known her for 15 years, and it took me a lot of courage to even bring this up to her!

So, I spoke to some other friends about the hurt that I was feeling. Along with some other back stories, they all told me that maybe it's time that I stopped being Anna's friend. I still haven't made a decision on what I need to do, but it does give me an opportunity to talk about a new Korean slang that has been making its way around the internet!

If I were to talk to a Korean friend about my situation, I might tell her:

"나 요즘 애나랑 손절할까 고민중이야." (These days, I'm debating whether I need to cut off my friendship with Anna.)

The word "손절" seems very new; I don't think I knew what this word meant just a couple of years ago. This word originally comes from the stock investors; they used this word to mean that they want to sell off their stock before their loss (손해) becomes unmanageable. That is, they cut off (절단) their losses (손해). And the phrase "손해 절단" became shortened to "손절."

But then, recently, perhaps because almost every Korean was said to be investing in Bitcoins and whatnot, some of these investor's jargons made its way into everyday Korean, including the word "손절." Now it means to cut off an interpersonal relationship (before you become even more hurt). So in many relationship advice forums, you'll see titles like:

"이기적인 친구, 손절할까요?" (Selfish friend, should I cut him off?)

or

"동기랑 손절하고싶어요. 어떡하죠?" (I want to cut off a classmate from my life. What do I do?)

A translated version of Beatrice Rouer's "T'es plus ma copine" (you're not my friend anymore)

While this word feels somewhat formal (as its two syllables both have its origin in Hanja), it is nonetheless not correctly used, and some people seem to have strong reactions against it. The correct word to use would be "절교" -- to cut off (절) friendship (교). In fact, when I was a young child going to school in Korea, all our dramas in school ended with someone declaring a 절교 on someone else. Every couple of weeks or so, one of my classmates (I'm ashamed to admit, myself included) would dramatically walk up to someone who have gravely offended them, and declare:

"나 너랑 절교할거야." (I don't want to be your friend anymore.)

Then everyone would gasp, whisper, and take whichever side we felt was the right one. Perhaps because of these experiences, the word "절교" doesn't feel serious anymore, but I'm pretty sure that you could trace this word all the way back to some ancient 선비s (the scholars of the ancient times), who had irreparable differences in opinion, and decide that they could no longer continue visiting each other or speak to each other!

Read more

#128. Korea vs. Japan -- five words you shouldn't use in Korea right now (or ever)

Disclaimer: I tried to be as fair as possible in this post, but of course, I do have Korean heritage, nor do I speak Japanese, so I imagine that my post leans towards the Koreans. I welcome any corrections or debates from those who are more familiar with Japan's point of view via comments, but please, let's stay civil!

Over the past couple of weeks, the tension between Korea and Japan has risen to an all-time high since the conclusion of the WWII. It seems to be a delicate issue that involves history, economy, and politics (involving North Korea, and more recently, the US, Russia, and China), and I don't really believe that it is my place to try to give an impartial explanation of what is happening. To tell a long story short, it seems to me that

- Japan restricted the export of some materials that are crucial to making smartphones (with Samsung, the semiconductor technology is one of the prides of the nation).

- Japan claims that this policy is necessary because they have reasonable fear of their material ending up in North Korea.

- However, the common consensus is that Japan is protesting against the recent Korean court ruling that Japan needs to pay more damages to the Korean "comfort women," who were young Korean girls (estimated to be around 100,000 - 200,000 in number) during the colonial period that were forced to provide sex to the Japanese soldiers around the world. So far, Japan has paid $2.4 billion USD in damages in today's currency (that's about $12,000 USD per person, adjusting for inflation and all). The South Korean court would like each of the surviving comfort women (only 10 now) to receive $134,000 USD.

- When Japan did not comply, the South Korean court ordered seizure on some Japanese companies (that have some history with exploiting the Koreans during the colonial period).

- There is a lot of old hostility between Korean and Japan; although Japan has issued apologetic statements in the past, many prominent Japanese politicians still seem to endorse Japan's actions during the colonial period, by either attending a ceremony at the Yasukuni shrine (which is dedicated to the Japanese war heroes, including those stationed in Korea during the colonial period) or donating to it. Shinzo Abe, the current prime minister of Japan, is one of those who have visited the shrine (and in 2013, out of 465 members of the Japanese parliament, 168 of them visited the shrine; now the number is slightly less, but still significant). So, the Koreans suspect that none of the apologies were made in earnest.

- When the news of Japanese sanctions spread, Korean netizens began making a list of Japanese companies, so that people could easily boycott Japanese products in retaliation. This includes clothes (Uniqlo), beer (Asahi), education (Kumon), cars (Toyota), and traveling to Japan. The current Korean sentiment is such that walking into a Uniqlo store or posting a photo of your Japan travels on Instagram would earn you a lot of stares and whispers. Many people are canceling their trips to Japan, and some gas stations are refusing to refuel Japanese cars.

Given the current sentiments, I thought that I would try to make a list of five commonly spoken Korean words that come from Japanese. Many of these words are implicitly forbidden on Korean TV, so you often see Korean celebrities using these familiar words, then quickly correcting themselves (then look appropriately chagrined). 

1. 오뎅 (おでん) ---> 어묵 (fishcake). 

In Japan, おでん, or "Oden" means a soup with fishcake as its main ingredient. When the word came to Korea, it degenerated to mean just the fishcake (so you could have an 오뎅볶음, which is stir-fried Oden, which wouldn't really make sense in Japanese!) While every Korean would understand what you mean if you used the word "오뎅," thanks to the efforts of the Koreans, this word is becoming old, in the sense that only the older population that lived during the colonial era (and maybe their children, who are all in their late 50s and up) use it.

I can imagine that in another few decades, this word might completely disappear from the Korean dictionary!

2. 와사비(わさび) ---> 고추냉이 (wasabi, horseradish)

This is another word that Koreans make a huge effort to abolish, perhaps because the word "wasabi" sounds SO Japanese! Funnily enough, horseradish and the plant that makes wasabi (E. Japonicum) is different from horseradish (E. Pseudowasabi). But the Academy of the Korean Language suggested this substitution in place of 와사비, and the use stuck, albeit somewhat clumsily.

Random fun fact: Koreans claim that when the effect of wasabi is particularly strong, you can bonk yourself at the top of your head (called 정수리 in Korean) and the spiciness will go away. I've never tried, but...

3. 땡깡(てんかん) --> 생떼 (childish insistence, unreasonable insistence, often accompanied by temper tantrum)

So, this word doesn't seem to exist in English. The word "땡깡" is often used towards children, for example, when they REALLY REALLY want that stupid toy from the supermarket, and you have no intention of buying them. They'll probably pull on your shirt, cry, beg, scream, and just be consistently annoying, and you might say,

"땡깡부리지 마" (Stop being such an annoying child, and stop asking for the toy, because you're being ridiculous).

Yes, the translation is really long, it's obviously not literal, but I'm trying to convey what the word means. Of course, you can use it to that one annoying friend who always wants to have her way (and throws a tantrum when she doesn't get it).

This word, on top of being Japanese in origin, is translated in poor taste. The more literal translation of the above sentence would actually be "don't throw a fit", and this is because the Japanese word てんかん (Tenkan) means "epilepsy." Instead, you can say

"생떼부리지 마."

Although it means almost the same thing in Korean (although it's slightly less derogatory since the implication that the listener is a child is a bit weaker), it has the added advantage that it doesn't refer to epilepsy!


4. 유도리 (ゆとり) --> 융통성 (flexibility)

We've probably all had that one professor who would not grant an extension on your homework under any circumstances, even if you were legitimately ill and had to be hospitalized. In Korean, you can describe that professor by saying

"그 교수님 정말 유도리없네" (That professor is not flexible at all)

This common expression, even used among the younger Koreans, comes from the Japanese word ゆとり(yutori), meaning "having a bit of extra" (the corresponding Korean word would be 여유, the direct translation of which does not exist in English). 

In PSY's Gangnam Style, there's a line that goes "커피 한잔의 여유를 아는 품격있는 여자." It translates to the fact that he likes the "classy women who can enjoy the break that comes with a cup of coffee."

To avoid the Japanese usage, simply replace "유도리" with "융통성," which means exactly the same thing, and you can say

"그 교수님 정말 융통성 없네."

5. 삐까번쩍 (ぴかりと) --> 번쩍번쩍 (Shiny, new, impressive)

If you showed up to work with a shiny new car (especially an expensive-looking sports car), your coworkers would likely stand around your car and exclaim,

"와, 새차라 그런지 진짜 삐까번쩍하네" (Wow, it's probably because it's new, but what a shiny impressive car!)

 Often used among the middle-aged men (the 아저씨s of Korea) but also used, although infrequently, among the younger generation, this word serves as half-exclamation and half-description. You can use it to show your appreciation for objects that are literally or figuratively shiny (ぴかりと, picarito, light), but it implies that you were awed or impressed by the object as well.

This is a pretty shiny impressive building, so I'd say "와, 삐까번쩍한 빌딩이네" or "빌딩이 엄청 삐까번쩍하네" to express that I'm impressed (and that the building is shiny). Shiny things are usually impressive, right? Amazing that the Koreans have an adjective just for the shiny things...

Koreans suggest that you replace this word with "번쩍번쩍," which is an onomatopoeic word meaning "shiny." To me, it doesn't have the same nuance in terms of being in awe of the object. So for example, if you said

"새차가 번쩍번쩍하네." (The new car is shiny),

then you have just literally said that new cars are shiny. True, but what are you trying to say, exactly?

So I suggest supplementing it with more exclamations! For example, you can say:

"우와! 진짜 멋있다! 차가 막 번쩍번쩍하네!" (Wow, this is really impressive! Your car is like, shining like there is no tomorrow!)

and with these additional exclamations, you can get pretty close to the nuance of the original word!



Contrary to the usual words introduced in my blog, none of these words are offensive at all, and many Koreans use these words on a regular basis. Of course, the problem is precisely that these words are so commonplace; I think the Koreans really make an effort to abolish traces of Japanese in their language, but sometimes these words are so commonplace that we don't really think about where they come from.

You can check out more words of Japanese origin in the following post!

Read more