Saturday, May 6, 2017

#5. 고구마, 사이다 -- When someone just doesn't get it... and when a hero saves the day!

Have you ever eaten a sweet potato? Although they are gaining grounds in North America in the form of sweet potato fries, they have been a staple in the Korean households for ages. Girls would survive weeks on sweet potatoes alone, because it's supposed to be a great diet food (but it's all carbs, you say. I agree. I don't really see the logic either, but my job is to report, not to argue!) In the winters, you see a lot of people selling sweet potatoes on the streets. They have big metal wood-fire ovens, where they stick in sweet potatoes directly into the fire. After a while, they come out looking and tasting absolutely fantastic. If you get the chance to be in Korea in the winter months, take my advice and try a 군고구마, you won't regret it.



As a quick Korean lesson, 군고구마 is made up of two parts. 군 + 고구마. "고구마" means "sweet potato," while "군" is a shortened form of "구운" (you'll see what I mean if you try saying it very quickly). "구운" means roasted.

One thing to be careful about, though, is that you don't want to eat them too quickly. They are pretty fibrous and dry, and eating them too quickly will make you feel like they have clung everywhere inside your body, from your throat to your chest. This feeling of stuck 고구마 in your digestive tract is pretty similar to how you feel in a frustrating situation.

Imagine that your professor is convinced that you cheated on your exam, when in reality, it was your friend who cheated off you. He calls you into his office and starts lecturing you on how you should never cheat. You try to defend yourself but he's not having it. Your friend then walks into the office, and presents the professor with all the evidence that he didn't cheat, and the professor completely believes him. Now the two of them are looking at you like the worst criminal in the world. Nothing that you say is going through and it's so frustrating.

If you wanted to describe this situation to someone (including your mother or your boss), you could say, "고구마 먹는 느낌이었어" (it felt like eating a sweet potato). Recently, people seem to be picking up on exaggerating the situation even further, and they often say:
고구마 백개 먹은것 같아.
 This translates to "I feel like I have eaten a hundred sweet potatoes" (and they're all stuck without being properly digested, creating that stuck feeling.) If you want to talk about someone being particularly clueless, which is frustrating everyone, you could say something like "쟤 정말 고구마다." 쟤 is an informal language for "that person," and you just make a direct comparison between the person and a sweet potato. Here, it would be awkward to use a hundred sweet potatoes, though.

Sometimes you can also talk about eating boiled eggs as well, because they have a very similar quality of being dense and getting stuck in your throat. You could say "삶은계란 백개 먹은것 같아" instead as well.

If you wanted to get that feeling unstuck, the most readily available method for improving digestion is carbonated drinks. In particular, the 사이다, which is the Korean equivalent of Sprite or 7Up, feels particularly refreshing, maybe to its citrus content, or because of its clear appearance.

Indeed, Koreans use this analogy a lot.  As you are standing in your professor's office feeling frustrated and hopeless, you might think to yourself, "사이다가 필요해," I am in need of some 사이다. Your parents might decide to show up in your defense, and decide to punch the professor's face. Your exclamation might be, "와, 사이다!" Later, you could tell your friends about this adventure, and tell them that "우리 부모님 정말 사이다였어."As an another example, say your rich friend is complaining about how his allowance is only a thousand dollars a week and how difficult his life is. Then another friend tells him to shut up because his allowance is twenty dollars a month, you might call this second friend 사이다, for saying things that you really wanted to say, but didn't for whatever reason.

Although these two usages are definitely in the slang category, it seems that you can use it in most company. A politician described a successful elections as 사이다 to the press, for example. It should of course still be avoided in formal writing.

 



Friday, May 5, 2017

#4. 개 -- Do you know the prefix that emphasizes everything? (you do!)

In English slang, if you're having a piece of cake and it's really good, there's an easy way to express your sentiments. Just add the f-word in front of the adjective. Instead of saying "This cake is amazing!" you say "This cake is f-ing amazing!"

Of course, if a teenager said this in front of his parents, this might lead to a huge gasp from the parents, and the teenager might be grounded.

Korean also has a very similar word, although it's slightly milder than the f-word. If a teenager uses what I'm about to tell you in front of his parents, the parents would probably chuckle a little bit, and maybe he'll get a lecture on the beauty of using proper Korean. If he has a very open-minded set of parents, he might even get away with it entirely, although this usage should be avoided in polite company, with a few exceptions!

Instead of using the f-word, just try adding "개-" to all the adjectives.

Yes, it's the word that means "dog." This multi-purpose prefix is technically featured in the Korean dictionaries, and it's supposed to mean "untamed," "uncivilized," or in some cases "meaningless," which was probably how the dogs were, way back when. It was supposed to be a prefix to only certain words: for example, "죽음" (death) becomes "개죽음" which means uncivilized, undignified death (for example, a death in a battlefield might get this description); "꿈" (dream) becomes "개꿈" which means a dream of no significance (here, 꿈 does not mean your aspirations; it really means the thing that you experience when you sleep).

But people noticed that this prefix actually does something else. It just emphasized the meaning of the root word. If you think about it, death is uncivilized no matter what, so adding 개- just emphasized the unpleasantness of death. A dream is meaningless already, so 개꿈 is even more meaningless.

Thus, a new usage was born. Nowadays, if you want to say that the piece of cake you're eating is amazing, you can say "이 케이크 맛있다." To emphasize it even further, you say "이 케이크 개맛있다." If you really really like your K-pop band, you could say "나 그 밴드 개좋아해" (I f-ing like that band). If that test was really hard, you can say "시험 개어려웠다" (Test was f-ing hard). See a really pretty girl? Say "그 여자애 개예쁘다" (that girl is f-ing pretty). You recently came across an amazing windfall? You can say "개이득" meaning "f-ing gain."

If you want to be slightly more polite and avoid the word "dog," you can also replace "개-" with "핵-" meaning "nuclear." It's still slang, so don't use it in the formal setting, but your parents are definitely less likely to get upset with you for using this. So you say "이 케이크 핵맛있다," "나 그 밴드 핵좋아해," "시험 핵어려웠다," "그 여자애 핵예쁘다," "핵이득" etc. This is not as widespread as "개-" just because it's less funny, but people will understand you!

It works with pretty much any adjective, while not being nearly as vulgar as the f-word. You can try using it with your friends, and they will be entertained! But again, do not use it to your teachers or superiors; they will think that you are being rude!

Basic Korean #3: What is the Korean equivalent of an English vowel?

In the previous post, I mentioned that every Korean letter comes with at least one consonant and one vowel. If you think about it, this premise is a little bit terrifying. Does this mean that the Koreans don't know how to pronounce standalone vowels such as "O (as in O Canada)," or the word "a"?

It turns out that the Koreans language resolves this issue in a pretty ingenious way. The Koreans devised a consonant that is equivalent to zero. The consonant even looks like a zero, and it is the consonant "ㅇ," called "ee-ung." In the deconstruction of the Korean letters, there are three places that a consonant can go into; the places 1, 4, and 5. Of these places, "ㅇ" can go into place 1 to signify the empty consonant, or place 4 (and once it occupies place 4, nothing can be in place 5). This is actually the eighth letter of the Korean consonant alphabet. We're skipping over a few, but why not?

The rules to keep in mind:
  • If it's in place 1, just skip over this symbol, and sound out the vowel.
  • If it is in place 4, the equivalent English sound is the "-ng."
 Some examples, using ㄱ, ㅏ, and ㅇ:
  • 아: The character ㅇ appears in position 1, signifying that we just skip over it. ㅏ sounds like "ah", so this letter sounds like "ah." While it is not a word with a huge meaning, try saying it as a short syllable: "아!" This is the Korean version of "Oh!" used exactly in the same settings.
  • 아가: The composition of two letters that we already know how to pronounce, it's read "ah-gah." It means "baby" in Korean. Weirdly enough, a lot of old people use it for another usage; you can use this word to call your daughter-in-law, especially if she's newly married to your son. This will instantly paint you in the image of a gentle and loving mother/father-in-law.
  • 강: Since ㅇ appears in position 4 (and since position 5 is empty, we stretch it out all the way so that everything looks nice), we know that it sounds like "g-ah-ng." In Korean, this word means "river." It's also a common Korean last name, but most of these people stylize their last name as "Kang," because "Gang" is just weird. In any case, "Gahng" is the right pronunciation. It can also be a part of an adverb meaning "strong."
  • 악: Applying our usual rules and reading it in the order ㅇ-ㅏ-ㄱ, it sounds like "ah-g." It's a fun word with many usages. When Koreans scream, they describe the scream with this word: "악!" This word also means "evil." The third meaning, which has no equivalent in English, is really interesting, though. 악 also means the motivation to do something, fueled by negative emotions. If your ex dumped you, you could hit the gym full of 악 (Koreans say that you're supported by 악.) If you failed an exam, you can study for the next exam fueled by 악. But when someone compliments you on your piano performance, you don't prepare for your next concert because of 악. It's an interesting distinction that does not exist in the English language!

#3. 나 궁서체야 -- Can you say "I'm serious" without using the word "진지"?

There are certain fonts that are so well-known and timeless that it's almost a cultural reference. In English, Times New Roman for serious essays, and Comic Sans if you want to appear friendly (and fail).

Korean has one of these fonts too. It's called "궁서체", which is short for "궁중서체." This latter means font (서체) used in the palace (궁중). Korean wasn't used by the educated men back then, and only the women and the uneducated used Korean (the learned people used Chinese). Since calligraphy was the only way to get anything on paper, 궁서체 was born, by the 궁녀, the female servants of the palace. Below is the comparison between 궁서체 on the left and 고딕체 (gothic font) on the right, and you can really see the difference. Note the tapered ending of the strokes, meant to emulate how the calligraphy brush would have written out these letters!
Given the cultural background, 궁서체 got the reputation that it's old, outdated, and boring. This font was never popular as far as I remember; it was only used in trying to get across the feeling of antiquity. It's also hard to read when the font is small. Basically, no one used to like it. To make matters worse, back in the 90s when I was a student in Korea, the exams often used to be printed in 궁서체. North Korea is also a fan of this font, and they use it a lot more frequently, for example, for news headlines on TV. There are just so many different reasons not to like this font!

However, the internet recently gave it a new life. If you were writing an internet novel, and an old character was speaking, you could turn his dialogue into 궁서체 to give it a bit more of a character. Want to give the extra creeps at a particular passage in a horror novel? No problem, use the red-colored 궁서체, and it looks like it's written with a brush dipped in blood.

This means "annihilate (멸, Chinese origins) the communists (공, short for 공산당)". Red 궁서체 means they're dead serious.

Koreans are humorous people, especially on the internet. So the internet seized its chance. Nowadays, if you want to humorously say "I'm serious right now," instead of saying that "나 지금 진지해," you can say "나 지금 궁서체야." Of course, it rarely will have the desired effect, because you're clearly not actually being serious.

Maybe you're studying, and your friends are goofing off near you being pretty loud. You ask them to please be quiet "조용히 해," and they're not listening to you. So you tell them, "조용히 하라고. 나 지금 궁서체야" (I told you to be quiet, I am serious right now). They'll probably laugh at your joke, and carry right on being loud.

Your young and popular professor might be talking about the upcoming exam and how difficult it is. He might say, "공부 많이 하세요. 궁서체로 말하는 거에요." (Study hard; I'm speaking in earnest). Then you would probably get a small chuckle out of it, but also understand that the exam is probably going to be pretty hard and you should study.

If your professor is old? Forget it! This usage, like most slang, is only for the young people. You can use it in real life and on the internet, as long as they're relatively young, say up until their 30s or 40s.

Just a few more fun examples. If you see something written in 궁서체 and it doesn't have a historical context, you can tell that the author is trying to be funny. For example, the Korean girl group Crayon Pop wore a lot of T-shirts with their names written in 궁서체.


In the website 웃긴대학 (humour university in English), a Reddit-like Korean website, you have the option to add a serious tag. When you do that, it automatically converts the entirety of your text into 궁서체. Thanks to all of these revivals, some designers would intentionally use this font for certain kitsch items, and it goes really well with the context! (As an aside, the Korean subreddit also chose 궁서체! Were the mods being ironic when they made it? Or are they being super serious?)

Because Korean is only really used in Korea, there is so much cultural context in a lot of slang. I hope that this helps in understanding the internet culture a little bit more!

Thursday, May 4, 2017

#2. 낙제각이야 -- How to say "the situation is setting up for failure"

In writing one of my beginner Korean posts, I realized that one of the very first Korean words that I outlined actually has a pretty cute slangy usage, popular among the people of approximate age 13-35. Using only the first consonant and the first vowel, we make the simple word "각" which usually means "angle." But if you saw a friend who wasn't studying for an exam tomorrow, you could tell him that you think he'll fail using this slang:

이대로라면 낙제각인데?

"이대로라면" means "if you continue the current status."

To de-construct further, "이" means "this" or "current status" (where the word "status" is implied). "대로" (aside from meaning "highway") means "continue." So for example, if you want to say "stay just where you are, and don't move" you could simply say "이대로 있어" or "그대로 있어" (where "그" means "that"). This usage is completely safe to use in any company.

"-라면" (aside from meaning "ramyun noodles" which are awesome) talks about the hypothetical. For example, "내가 가수라면" means "if I were a singer." "네가 여자라면" means "if you were a woman." If you were to talk about a hypothetical action, as opposed to a situation, the conjugation changes slightly to various things such as "-다면", "-으면", "-면". For example, "내가 뛴다면" meaning "if I run"; "먹으면" meaning "if eaten"; "하면" meaning "if done."

So anyway, with the above sentence, I'm basically telling my friend that if he keeps up the current status of not studying for the exam, he's setting himself up for a failure. "낙제각" is made up of two parts, "낙제" and "각", or "failure" and "angle." If you think about the game of pool (which is really a game of angles!), certain angles make good hits, and certain angles make bad hits. This is where this usage comes from: you're aligning yourself for the angle of failure.

This "-각" usage has been popular for probably 10 years at this point, at least. And Koreans really like to make up new usages. For example, if you've been partying hard, and everyone is joking about chickens for some reason. You're hungry, so you want to playfully suggest that you go eat Korean fried chicken (which is the only kind of fried chicken, really). You would say, "이거 치킨각 아닌가?"

If you have a lot of homework that you put off until the deadline, and you realize that there is no way you can complete everything, you could say things like "드랍각이다," meaning that you should probably go drop one of the courses. If things are really serious, Koreans often say "자살각이네," meaning that they should just kill themselves over not having done the work earlier.

In Korea you can get sued and get a criminal record if you insult someone publicly online. Often, if the Korean internet users see someone going too far, or if an online discussion is getting too heated, they would try to stop the argument by saying, "이거 고소각인데?" meaning that they are setting themselves up for a lawsuit.

It's not always "noun + 각" either. You can use verbs. If a professor looks like she is about to hand you homework, you could say, "숙제내줄각이다." If two people are gearing themselves up for a fight, you could say "싸울각이네." If one of them looks like he is about to cry, you could say "울각이다."

Koreans are incredibly generous and receptive to the creation of new words and phrases; so feel free to experiment with it! The only words of caution that I have is the fact that this usage of "-각" is strictly for friends only. This originated from internet celebrities of Afreeca (early version of YouTubers), and a lot of them had contents that were 19+. Although this has nothing to do with the 19+ content, it's just a matter of etiquette to avoid mentioning these words to your boss, your professors, or your grandparents (who might not actually know what it means anyway!)

Basic Korean #2: One consonant, one vowel

We're going to take it easy, and learn Korean very slowly. This is because the alphabet system is completely different from the English alphabet (in comparison, when I started learning French, I don't think I spent any time in learning their alphabet. To this day, although I'm semi-fluent in French, I still have to think a little bit before sounding out the names of the alphabet!)

There are two unique features of the Korean language.

First of all, in order to form a Korean letter, you always need at least one consonant and one vowel. If you remember your previous lesson on the deconstruction of the Korean letters, you see that every Korean letter indeed includes a consonant and a vowel; furthermore, the position 1 can never ever be empty, and one of positions 2 or 3 must be occupied!

Secondly, while the English language has the ABC song and one long line of alphabets where the consonants and vowels are mixed together, Korean has two separate alphabet systems. One is solely for the consonants, and another is solely for the vowels. Korean has 14 consonants and 10 basic vowels, but the consonants can compound to make new consonants, and the vowels can compound to make more vowels. Then these consonants and vowels glue together to make letters, so learning it all in a day would be hard. Just to get a feel for the language though, let's just learn one consonant and one vowel, and see what we can do with them!

The first letter of the Korean consonant alphabet is the symbol ㄱ, pronounced "gee-yuk" with a hard G. It corresponds to the letter G in English. The first letter of the Korean vowel alphabet is the symbol ㅏ. It would replace various vowels in the English language. For example, it would replace the "a" in "tart"; it would also replace the "o" in "hot"; it would not replace the "a" in "bath" unless you're British, Aussie, etc.; it would never replace the "a" in "water" regardless of your nationality. I generally think of it as the sound "ah," but not super drawn out. I think the best approximation of this vowel is in "tart."

Using just the one vowel and one consonant, we can actually make out a few Korean words already.

: Since ㄱ sounds like G and ㅏ sounds like "ah," this letter, which has alphabets in positions 1 and 2, would sound like "Gah."

It has several meanings, but try saying it authoratively: "가!" This, in Korean, means: "Go!"

Due to some Chinese influence, this word can also mean "street." For example, "3rd Street" would be written as "3가" in Korean, but nowadays only the older people, like 50s and up, would use it.

It could also mean "house," in the sense of "the house of Stark." You would write it as "Stark 가," but you only see this usage in fantasy novels or historical novels about the Western culture nowadays.

가가:  Not a real Korean word, but if you wanted to write "Lady Gaga" in Korean, you'd write "Lady 가가." Thought I'd through it in there, just because.
  
각: Remembering that the deconstruction of the Korean letters also give you the order in which it's supposed to be read, this letter would sound out as "G-ah-g." In formal Korean usage, this word means "angle." It can mean geometric angles, and it can also mean photo angles. There's actually another slang usage of this word, but it's fairly advanced; just file it away for now, and come back to it later!

For example, as you're working out in the gym, your trainer might say, "pay attention to the 각 of your elbows." You might also compliment your friend on her wonderful photo, saying that "the 각 of your photo is very artistic."
 

: This one is a curveball. The consonant "ㄱ" has compounded to form a new consonant "ㄲ." This new consonant still sounds like a "G," but it's harsher than the usual "G." Think about the difference between the usual sound of "Z" and the sound that you make in "pizza." Koreans stylize this by using "Gg." So this would sound like "Ggah" with a very strong accent placed in the first two G's.

While the word itself has no meaning, it is used as a conjugation to a verb, when you're making a gentle suggestion (so you want to pronounce it like a question "까?"), and also when you're making a very polite inquiry to your superiors. Conjugation in Korean is a pretty complicated topic, so I won't belabor the point here.

까까: Well, if you know how to pronounce "까" already, then you know how to pronounce this word too. Just pronounce it twice since it's two letters, so it sounds like "ggah ggah." This is not a real word, although Koreans young and old would use this word to a baby. In baby-talk, 까까 means cookies or snacks. If you wanted to offer a piece of your cookie to a toddler, you might say, "Do you want some 까까?"

깍깍: It's getting more complicated! But it's not hard to read; it sounds like "ggag ggag," and it's a Korean onomatopeia for the sound of crows. Crows are thought to be unlucky (in Korea, they are said to be able to feel impending death, and if a crow wouldn't leave a house, that mean that they were waiting for someone in the house to die. So if the Koreans hear a crow near their home, it's not unusual for them to go out and shoo them away), and if you ever see the words "깍깍" in a novel, you can be sure that the author has set an eerie mood, and something bad is about to happen.

Those are some weird first words to learn; not the usual "My name is..." or "mother" or "father," but hey, these are pretty simple and they require minimal knowledge, so why not? :)

Basic Korean #1: Deconstructing Korean letters

Korean letters are confusing! While we have alphabets, there must be thousands of independent characters. So it must look intimidating at first glance. If I were to start learning Korean as an adult, this is how I would want to start.

I would first want to know that the Korean letters can, and should be deconstructed. Here is one of the most complicated words that you might encounter (it's not a real word; it's just constructed that all the "parts" are visible.)

So, there are at most five parts that will appear in any given Korean language. It takes nothing more than the knowledge of the Korean alphabet to be able to recognize each part, but you should already see that these groupings exist. Some things to remember:
  • The parts are labelled in the order of pronunciation. So, the most important part of any letter would be the part labelled 1, then 2 and 3, then 4 and 5.
  • The parts 1, 4, and 5 are always occupied by consonants; the parts 2 and 3 are always occupied by vowels.
  • It is very rare that all five parts are present. For the rest of this post, I give you some (mostly meaningless) Korean letters, so that you can practice deconstructing them. Notice that they do get increasingly complicated, and in some cases, since you don't know the Korean alphabet yet, the deconstruction is going to be complicated. But try your best, and try to recognize the recurring components, because those are the Korean alphabet at work!
Letters that use just the 1-2 positions:

두, 조, 교, 소, 뉴, 므

Letters that use just the 1-3 positions:

아, 먀, 서, 쳐, 기, 얘

Letters that use 1-2-3 positions:

뭐, 의, 과, 취, 왜, 뉘

Letters that use 1-2-4 positions:

불, 물, 못, 홋, 윷, 돛

Letters that use 1-3-4 positions:

막, 철, 옛, 벗, 낯, 삿

Letters that use 1-2-3-4 positions:

왈, 확, 뫗, 월, 긜, 읭

Letters that use 1-3-4-5 positions:

없, 닭, 칡, 덨, 릮, 넒

Letters that use 1-2-4-5 positions:

굷, 춞, 얾, 첛, 핅, 낡

Letters that use 1-2-3-4-5 positions:

놝, 뷁, 뭓, 붦, 칆, 틺