#17. 사골 -- Beating a dead cow

A friend of mine took me out to a very nice fusion restaurant this past weekend. While looking through the menu, I was a bit grossed out by an item called "roasted bone marrow." Even though I'm Korean by birth, I have never been an adventurous eater, so I flat-out refused to try it.

I later talked to my mom on the phone about the strange things that people eat these days, and she looked at me strangely, and told me that one of my favourite Korean dishes is also made from ox bones (which made me instantly regret my decision to not get the roasted bone marrow.)

The dish in question, of course, is what the English speakers call "oxtail soup," or sometimes "ox bone soup." In Korean, it is called "사골국." You may be more familiar with similar dishes such as "설렁탕" or "곰탕" instead -- depending on the ratio of bones to meat that goes into this dish, they go by different names. "사골국" is mostly bones, and "곰탕" is mostly meat.

The way to make these hearty soups is very simple. You put ox bones (usually leg bones are used, this is why we call the soup "사골," or "four bones." "사" is "four," and "골" means "bones." For example, "해골" means "skull," and "골다공증" means "osteoporosis.") and some meat into a huge pot along with water, then you let simmer for several hours. Eventually, you are left with milky broth that is pure deliciousness. This process of slowly extracting broth is called "우려내다" in Korean, meaning "to simmer and extract flavour."

The really interesting feature of 사골국 is that when you're almost finished with the broth, you can pour more water into the pot, boil a while longer, and repeat the process several times to get a large quantity of delicious soup!

And this idea of using the same ingredient to make more and more of the soup gave rise to a new internet expression. Suppose that a comedy sketch keeps trying to get laughs out of the same joke for weeks, with just slight variations. At some point, you get fed up with their gimmicks, and you might exclaim in Korean,

 우려먹기가 너무 심한거 아냐? (Aren't you simmering for flavour far too much?)

농담으로 사골국 끓여먹냐? (Are you planning to make a 사골국 with that joke?)

Both of these expressions make comparison of the fact that a joke is used over and over again (just like the bones and meat in 사골국) to try to get laughter out of people (just like how we keep trying to get some flavour out of the bones and meat).

These expressions get used a lot in the evaluation of creative content, when the same topics keep coming up. They also get used when a broadcasting company keeps airing re-runs of the same episodes. When you're fed up with the same thing happening over and over again, these expressions are probably appropriate to try out.

Perhaps it is a bit of a 무리수 to say this, but I can't help but notice some similarities to an English expression, "beating a dead horse," in that there is a repetitive action being done to a dead animal (of course, I the context is different!) But it always amazes me to see any kinds of similarities between two completely unrelated cultures. It's as if the amount of understanding that humans share without needing the use of languages is actually quite a lot.

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#16. 의자왕 -- The Korean Casanova

백제 (Baekje) has always had my sympathy. It formed a part of the Three Kingdoms Era of Korea, along with 신라 (Silla) and 고구려 (Goguryeo), but it seems that 백제 was decidedly the weakest of the three kingdoms. 신라 eventually destroyed the other two kingdoms and unified Korea; 고구려, at its heyday, controlled a large part of China and Mongolia, occupying about five times the land the size of the Korean peninsula.

백제, on the other hand, never seems to have had that golden era comparable to its two rivals. Instead, the most remembered figures of this sad little kingdom lived right as it was going through its final moments, destroyed in the hands of the allied forces of 신라 and the Tang dynasty of China. Whether it really did not have a golden era, or whether the records were destroyed in the hands of the victors, we will never really know, as 백제 fell in 660AD, more than 1300 years ago.

One man's name lives on, however, and his name is arguably used more frequently than any other figures from 신라 or 고구려 in modern-day Korea. His name is 의자왕 (King 의자, "의자" was just his name, and does not mean a chair or a healer. His parents named him, hoping that he would be just and merciful; "의" means "just" as in "정의롭다", and "자" means "merciful" as in "자비롭다."), and his legacy is admittedly questionable, as he was the last king of 백제.

According to the popular legends that most Koreans know, he was actually a decent king. 백제 prospered under his rule, and he was politically talented. But he gradually became interested in the decadent lifestyle, holding parties, drinking nightly, in the company of three thousand beautiful palace maidens (궁녀). When 신라, allied with the Tang dynasty (당나라), attacked 백제, he was not able to defend the country, and surrendered to the allied forces. He was eventually taken prisoner of the Tang dynasty, and died there within the year.

The three thousand women decided to throw themselves from a cliff into a nearby river, preferring to take their lives themselves rather than be captured by the allied forces. The cliff where they supposedly killed themselves still exists in the city of 부여, and it is called 낙화암 (It means "the rocks of the falling flowers:" "낙" means to fall, as in "낙하산 parachute"; "화" means a flower, as in "조화 artificial flowers" "국화 chrysanthemum" or "무궁화 rose of sharon"; "암" means rocks, as in "암벽등반 rock climbing," "화강암 granite.") It is a beautiful little place, and if you can visit, you should!

I remember visiting here as a child, and feeling down all day thinking about all the poor women who fell to their deaths.

Koreans managed to insert some humour into this sad story, however. Nowadays, if a man seems to be surrounded by many women, he will likely have been called an "의자왕" by his friends. For example, if a man always seems to be in the company of several women (whether romantically or not!), his friends might say something like:

니가 의자왕이냐?

 or, "Do you think you're King 의자?"

There is definitely a lot of humour in this expression, and it is one of those expressions that will make people laugh. What's better, because it is derived from history, Koreans of any age will get your reference, and it's not offensive at all! So this expression is used both online and offline.

That being said, this notoriety of 의자왕 saddens me a little bit, because it seems that there are no actual records in history that King 의자 was actually into that luxurious and decadent lifestyle. Rather, in the official records, he seems to have fought until the very end, and decided to surrender because he did not want any more sacrifices of his people, and in fact, 백제 was at one of its most prosperous periods under his rule. In particular, the mention of the three thousand women appears first in a 20th-century literature (there may have been a few women, but probably not three thousand!) But as people say, history is written by the victors, and he really did not have any choice in the matter. And for better or for worse, he is still remembered, and at least some people believe that he was a good king.

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#15. 낚시, 떡밥 -- Trolling, or fishing for reaction

The anonymity of the internet sometimes tempts us to do strange things. We are safe to prank people, we can mock people, and we can get involved in a fight. What's the worst that could happen? Some people might get mad at us, but all we have to do is turn off the computer, and all that is behind us. In the anglophone culture, we call this type of behaviour "trolling."

There are two theories for the origin of this word.

The first hypothesis is that these internet rogues are named after the Scandinavian monster "troll" that is often hostile and aggressive. I am all for this hypothesis -- what a wonderful way to describe that dark corner of our minds that propel us to do strange things on the internet!

The second hypothesis is equally compelling as the first. It says that "trolling" came from the word "trawling," which means to drag the net in the ocean to catch the fish. This is exactly what the trolls do on the internet. Stir up the vast ocean of the internet in hopes of getting lots of reactions from other internet users.

Shockingly, although Korean is completely disconnected from English in terms of linguistics, the Korean word for "trolling" comes from an identical background as its English counterpart. If you wanted to see if someone was trolling on the internet, you might say "Are you trolling?" In Korean slang, the appropriate thing to say would be:

낚시하냐?

"낚시" is Korean for "fishing," so it seems that the Korean internet users decided that the second hypothesis for the origins of "trolling" was more appropriate, or at least, more humorous (It often seems to be the case that the most important requirement for a successful Korean internet slang word is in its humour, so the second hypothesis is just so much more promising!) When you're intentionally trolling, you can use the verb "낚다" or "to fish" to say things like "오늘도 한번 낚아볼까?" (shall I try to fish people again today?)

When the Koreans have fallen into a clever trap, they tend to acknowledge the humour in the situation, and concede defeat by saying "낚였다" (you have fished me). When the Koreans spot someone successfully being fished by another internet user, they sometimes write "파닥파닥," which is an onomatopoeia that describes the sound that a freshly caught fish makes, to mock the hapless victim.

The Korean internet users might upload pictures like this to mock those who reacted to the trolling.

When a particular user is particularly skilled at trolling the other users, he might be dubbed "강태공." This 강태공 (강 is his last name, and 태공 is his governmental title, similar to a marquis) was a very gifted Chinese politician who helped King Wen overthrow the Shang dynasty and establish the Zhou dynasty. However, he waited for years for King Wen to recognize his talent and to hire him, by studying politics on his own in the countryside, and fishing in the nearby river to provide for himself.

And just like in English, if some internet user seems to be looking to muddy up the waters (we would probably call that "baiting," as in "clickbait,") the Koreans would say "떡밥을 뿌리다," or "scatter the bait." When someone reacts to the bait, this is described as "떡밥을 물다," or "take a bite out of the bait."

Staying true to the original analogy, though, the word "떡밥" now means any material that has the potential to stir up a reaction among the others. These two words, "낚시" and "떡밥" have become so commonplace that they even left the internet. In particular, "떡밥" is often used in dramas or webtoons, when an episode introduces a new element that has the potential to significantly impact the future events.

For example, suppose that your favourite drama ended by zooming in on a mysterious new character. This is definitely a bait that lures you to watch the next episode, to find out who this new character is. The Koreans would say, "떡밥만 뿌리고 끝나네," meaning "they just baited us and ended the episode." When all loose ends are tied up and all conflicts cleared, the Koreans would say "떡밥 회수 완료," or "the collection of all bait has been completed." On some of the comments, you might see some Koreans begging the writers or producers to tie up all the loose ends, by saying, "떡밥은 언제 회수하실겁니까?" (when will you take back all the bait?) or "아직 떡밥이 너무 많이 남았네" (still a lot of bait remains.)

All of the above expressions, although still slang, is not particularly offensive, and you could probably use it with anyone (but avoid using these at very formal occasions, just in case!)

Finally, the Koreans also use the "troll" analogy as well, although it is not as extensive as the fishing analogy. There is a word called "병먹금," which just takes the first letters of the phrase "병신 먹이 금지" (idiot feeding forbidden). It quite literally means, "Don't feed the trolls!" This expression is a bit more offensive, since "병신" (in the literal sense, it means a cripple, although most of the time it's more natural to interpret it as an idiot) is nested squarely in the swear word category. The word "병먹금" really is only for the internet!

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#14. 프로 불만러 -- How to say "he complains all the time" in five letters

Once, when I was frequenting a small DC Inside gallery (a Korean equivalent of a subreddit), I got to recognize the handle of this one particular user. He came by the "갤" (how the Koreans call galleries on DC Inside) all the time,  always armed with a new story of how the world has done him some injustice. He was very good at extracting hidden meaning from a mundane gesture. How this stranger walked past him on the street without acknowledging his presence, probably because this stranger was hell-bent on offending him. How his professor assigned him an unfair grade. How his lunch portion was smaller than his friend's portion.

We soon took to mocking him by saying things like

프로 불만러 또 오셨어요?

The word "프로 불만러" is made up of three parts: "프로 + 불만 + 러."

The word "프로" comes from the shortened English word "professional." While the shortened form "pro" is only used in informal context in the anglophone culture, it can be used even in formal context in Korea. For example, a professional golfer is called "프로 골퍼," and this word is acceptable even in your school report. When you want to compliment someone's professionalism, you could also say "정말 프로네요," and this usage is also completely sanctioned in any setting.

The word "불만" is a standard Korean word meaning "complaint."

The word "-러" comes from the English suffix "-er," which denotes the person doing a particular activity. For example, someone who calls is called a "caller"; there are many other usages in English, such as "swimmer," "golfer," "player," and so on. It is unclear why "-러" was chosen instead of "-어" or "-머," but it just seems that the "-러" ending sounds the best in most contexts.

Putting these words together, you can see that we were mocking this particular user that he was a "professional complainer."

This is a word that combines English and Korean. Usually the words that contain both English and Korean have a humorous undertone (for example, 발퀄 or 이불킥). While this word also has a slight humour to it, there is also a lot of overt sarcasm, and I would say that this sarcasm is the dominant feeling in this word.

As usual, the Koreans are masters at modifying and adapting internet neologism. You should also feel free to replace the word "불만" by other words of your choice to appropriately describe your situation! Here are some other examples that are commonly used on the internet:

• 프로 불편러: The word "불편" could mean "inconvenience," but in this case, it refers more to the word "discomfort." These people find offense in every statement uttered in the name of some cause. For example, someone might be upset that the women's bathrooms are always on the left-hand side of the men's bathroom, whereas gender equality should mean that they should be on the left side only half the time...? This is a word with a fairly negative connotation, and they are only used when someone is being unreasonable, not when that someone is advocating for a just cause.
• 프로 질문러: When someone is full of questions, you could call this person "프로 질문러." Because there is no negative connotation in the word "질문," (compare this to "discomfort" or "complaints"!) this word has a more humorous undertone compared to the previous two examples.
• 프로 실망러: These kinds of people find disappointments in everything. Maybe because they have high expectations, or maybe because of their personality. Depending on the context of how the "실망" or "disappointments" are found, this word may be humorous or more sarcastic, so you have to make the judgment call on whether it is appropriate to use it.
• 프로 불참러: The word "불참" comes from two parts made up of Chinese letters. "불" is a negation prefix. "불공평" means "unfair" (you might be on the winning side or the losing side; but the two sides are not equal); "불리" means "not gainful," so something is unfair, and you have the short end of the stick. The letter "참" comes from "attendance." For example "참석" means to attend an event. So "불참" means to not attend. A "프로 불참러" is someone who misses all the events!

These words are definitely neologisms and are the most suitable for informal internet conversations, or among very close friends. However, definitely take into account that depending on the context, the person on the receiving end of this word might be offended. It really depends on what meaning you are trying to get across!

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#13. 이불킥 -- Looking back to the most embarrassing moment of your life

Any wise person knows that reflecting on the most embarrassing moment of your life right before you try to sleep is a terrible idea. You relive that moment, such as that moment when you felt the need to show some 허세, feel the blush creeping up your neck to your face, and you writhe lying on bed and burrowing into your blanket. UGH. How could I have been so stupid?

Koreans have the perfect word to describe your embarrassment. If they see you doing something stupid that they just know you will regret later, they might tell you:

오늘밤에 이불킥 할 각인데?

Remember that "-할 각이다" means "setting oneself up for something." Therefore, your friend might be telling you that "You are setting yourself up for 이불킥 tonight."

The word "이불킥" is made from two words: "이불," meaning blanket, and "킥," which is just the English word "kick." So the word literally means "kicking the blanket." That is, as you lie in bed tonight, you will be embarrassed by the stupid thing that you did, and in your flailing of embarrassment, you will end up kicking your blanket to vent your anger. Pretty appropriate.

The memories of that embarrassing moment.

Although it is not always the case, when an English word and a Korean word compound to form a single word, the resulting word is often quite humorous, especially when there was an easy Korean substitute. As a rule of thumb, the vast majority of formal Korean words are made up of Chinese or pure Korean, and when English or Japanese appear (there are two languages other than Chinese that influenced the Korean language the most, although we see some French and German influence as well), they are usually there for the humorous and vulgar (without being offensive) effect.

"이불킥" is one of these words that give off a humorous nuance ("kick" could have easily been replaced by "차다," but if you do that, it's not as funny.) While not offensive, "이불킥" is also far away from being formal Korean!

Below is a Cyworld (early Korean version of Facebook) post of a Korean student that went viral many years ago. The student was likely in middle school or high school, and likely a sufferer of 중2병. Many Koreans suspect that the writer of this post kicked many a blanket to compensate for his post below (translation follows).

 

Right this moment, I am slowly going mad.

I entrust my entire body and my soul to this headphone,

As music is the only drug

that this nation will allow me

This is me, right now. 

As a Korean reading this, you might say things like

저분 요즘도 이불킥하시겠지? (Do you think he still kicks his blankets?)

저거 생각하면 자다가 벌떡 일어나서 이불 걷어차실 듯. (I think he would wake up in the middle of the night to kick his blankets whenever he thinks about that post -- note that instead of using "킥," the speaker chose to use the corresponding Korean word "걷어차다.")

You can also focus on the fact that "이불킥" just means "venting your embarrassment on the blanket." Using this, you can be creative. For example, you could have instead said:

자다가 일어나서 이불 불질러야겠다 ㅋㅋㅋ (He should probably wake up and set his blankets on fire).

Feel free to experiment; Koreans are witty people, and they will appreciate your creativity!

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#12. 역주행 -- Every underdog's dream

In looking back at some of my earlier posts, I realized that there is a word that, in theory, means the polar opposite thing of the word "정주행." The word that I have in mind is "역주행." While the letter "정" means "correctly," the letter "역" means "in reverse." Therefore, if "정주행" is describing the movement of a car going forward, "역주행" describes the movement of a car going backwards.

In the context of internet slang, however, it means something completely different from what you might think. While "정주행" means binge watching dramas or reading webtoon episodes starting at episode #1 and moving on, no one starts at the last episode and works their way to the first episode! But there's a context in which the word "역주행" makes sense.

That context is the K-pop scene. It is amazingly fascinating how the competitive nature of the Korean society drives the K-pop groups to come up with better music, better dances, and better entertainment. There are several large charts that track in real-time (in Korean, that's "실시간," literally real-time) how the new single releases are doing; some of the more popular ones are 가온차트, 소리바다, 멜론차트, and 벅스차트. Each K-pop group pays a lot of attention to it; they count how many days, if not hours, their songs stayed at the top of the chart, and who they had to beat out to rise to the top. While it is usually normal to debut their new songs near the top of the chart, and the ranking moves down as the time passes, sometimes a miracle happens.

The word "역주행" was brought into light by a K-pop girl group called EXID. They were barely noticeable among hundreds of groups that debuted in 2012. For nearly three years, none of their songs grabbed the public attention, and "위아래," or "Up-down," the song that would eventually make them become famous, was ranked at #90 for one week, then disappeared altogether from the chart (Koreans call this "차트아웃되다," or "outed from the chart.")

Before their fame, no one wanted to meet them. When they announced a fan-meet, only about 10 people showed up.

Then, two months after "위아래" came out (and disappeared from the charts), everything changed, when a fan took a video of one of the members dancing to their song "위아래," and put it up on YouTube. Something about her looks and the dance just seemed right to many people, and the video went viral. You can see for yourself what was so special about the video below:

 

Their song, formerly not even in the charts, made a re-appearance. For a culture that loves the newest things, this was extremely unusual. Not only did the song "위아래" make it back into the chart, it kept creeping up on ranks. About five months after the initial release of the song, and three months after the viral YouTube video, their song did a "역주행," and made it to the top of the Korean music charts.

Now, EXID is one of the best-known Korean girl groups, and doing quite well in the entertainment industry. And all for that one video, and the touching story of their "역주행." For many years to come, the word "역주행" will make the Koreans think of EXID. Of course, this word now gets used in the media all the time, and so you could use it to anyone, although the older generation might not know the context.

To finish off, here's what Hani did, when she met the fan who propelled her group to stardom again at a later event:

You can see her recognizing the fan, then mouthing "고마워요!"

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Listening exercise with transcript #2: Let me tell you about the 경상 dialect

On the first listening exercise, I provided the transcript for the first part of a series of two advertisements below. I would like to provide the rest of the transcription today. But before doing so, I need to talk about the dialects ("사투리") of Korea so that you can understand exactly what is going on in that clip.

There are several different dialects in Korea, roughly corresponding with the provinces of Korea, and even within the provinces, there are different dialects corresponding to major cities. Most Korean that you hear on TV is the "standard language" or "표준어," which mostly derives from the Seoul dialect. The Seoul dialect is so close to the standard language that the word "서울말" (서울 + 말 = Seoul language) is often synonymous with the "표준어." However, there are some minor differences!

In your Korean studies, you might have noticed an interesting verb change. The verb conjugation "-(으)려고" signifies your intention to do something. For example, in standard Korean:
"먹다 (to eat)" + "-으려고" --> "먹으려고" (I'm going to eat)
"자다 (to sleep)" + "-려고" --> "자려고" (I'm going to sleep)
However, you might see many Koreans write instead "먹을려고" or "잘려고." This inclusion of "ㄹ" in your verb conjugation derives from the Seoul dialect! But in general, these are minor differences, and the Seoul dialect mostly coincides with the standard language.

The Seoul dialect or the standard language is perceived by the speakers of the other dialects to be gentle and soft (for example, North Korean refugees often remark on just how gentle the Koreans must be, based on their soft accent, or 부드러운 억양.) There are almost no inflections or accents placed in any part of the sentences, and unless the word itself calls for it, no accented strong consonants (such as ㄲ, ㄸ, ㅃ, ㅆ) are substituted.

On the other hand, the 경상 dialect (the major cities using this dialect include 부산 Busan, 대구 Daegu, and 울산 Ulsan, and in Korean we would call it 경상도 사투리) makes heavy use of inflections and strong consonants!

For example, the number "2" and the English letter "E" are both written as "이" in Korean alphabet. So using the Seoul dialect, the two things sound exactly the same. However, in the 경상 dialect, they sound different.

First of all, the inflection is different. The "2" is pronounced at a slightly lower tone than "E." Secondly, while "2" is pronounced in the usual Seoul dialect fashion, "E" is pronounced by trying to make the "ㅇ" a strong consonant by closing your throat completely before releasing the sound (think about the difference between "E" and "Yee.") This distinction enables the 경상 dialect to distinguish the following four mathematical expressions, which the standard Korean speakers cannot do! (Quick note: "a to the power of b" is read "a의 b승" in Korean.) When the Koreans realized this, this blew up the Korean internet for a few days!

Below is a video clip of a speaker of the 경상 dialect pronouncing these four things, compared with the speaker of the standard Korean. Note the strong consonants and a much more exaggerated inflection, not just in these four pronunciations, but also when they are speaking!

By the way, since you cannot describe some of these difference over text, some Korean internet users will use arrows to informally describe the inflectional differences (you might have seen these on the internet!) For example: to pronounce "E," the Koreans will describe its pronunciation as "이↘", signifying that it starts high and ends low. For "2", the right description might be "이→" or "이↗", emphasizing the relative lower starting point of the pronunciation.

Even without these inflections, there are major differences between the standard Korean and the 경상 dialect. For one, 경상 dialect is very short and to the point (leading to the stereotype that the men of 경상도 are the strong and silent type.) For example, it often omits non-essential particles:

"니가 그렇게 하니까 내가 이렇게 하지 (Seoul dialect: It's because you're acting that way that I'm acting like this)" becomes "니 그카이 내 이카지." I first encourage you to read this out loud. Even Koreans won't understand many dialects when it's written out, but usually pronouncing it out loud helps a lot with understanding. The particle "가" is completely suppressed, and only the essential parts of the pronunciation of "그렇게 하니까" seems to have survived!

Another difference that I will mention is that the 경상 dialect uses very few compound vowels, especially the ones such as ㅝ, ㅘ, ㅙ, etc, so "뭐라고? (what did you say?)" would be pronounced closer to "머라꼬?" (note that the ㄱ can become a strong consonant, another characteristic of the 경상 dialect). The people speaking this dialect often has difficulty distinguishing the last names Choi (최) and Chae (채) as well.

Finally, most sentences will end in -다, -라 if it's an assertive sentence, and -나, -노 if it's a question. For example, in Seoul, you may have a dialogue such as "A: 밥 먹었어? B: 응, 먹었어 (Did you eat? Yes, I ate)" while in 경상 dialect, you might hear "A: 밥 뭇나? B: 뭇다." (Again, please read it out loud!)

This is becoming a long post, so without further ado, we turn to the following clip, beginning at 1:26. Here, the two speakers are having a frustrating time, because of the 경상 dialect. First listen, and see how much you can pick up. Try to notice the inflection, the strong consonants, and very short sentences (another characteristic of the 경상 dialect). The transcription and the explanation follows. For some cases, I will provide the corresponding Seoul dialect version as well:

Man: 와? (Seoul: 왜?)
Woman: 오빠, 엄마가 반찬 갖다주란다.
Man: 잘댔네. 이따 올때 내 가면 가온나. (Seoul: 잘됐네. 있다가 올때 내 가면좀 가지고 와.)
Woman: 응? 오빠 가면? 오빠야 니 어디가는데? (Seoul: 응? 오빠 가면? 오빠 어디가는데?)
Man: 머라노? 내가 가긴 어딜가? (Seoul: 뭐? 내가 가긴 어딜 가?)
Woman: 오빠가 니 가면 오라메. (Seoul: 오빠가 방금 오빠가 가면 오라면서.)
Man: 아니, 내 가면 가오라꼬. (Seoul: 아니, 내 가면 가지고 오라고.)
Woman: 그니까. 오빠야 어디가냐고?
Man: 아니, 그게 아니라, 내 가면!
Woman: 그래, 니 가면!
Man: 그래, 내 가면!
Woman: 그래, 니 가면!
Man: 그래, 내 가면!
Woman: 니 지금 내랑 장난하나? 그니까, 니 어디가냐고? (Seoul: 오빠 지금 나랑 장난해? 그러니까, 오빠 어디 가냐고?)
Man: (trying to speak in a Seoul accent) 사랑하는 내 동생 나진아, 이따가 니가 올거잖아, 응?
Woman: 아, 근데?
Man: 그때 내 가면 가 오라고!
Woman: 그니까, 니가 가면 오라메. 그니까 어디가냐고!
Man: 내 가면!
Woman: 어딜?
Man: 가면!
Woman: 어딜?
Man: 가면!
Woman: 어딜?
Man: 가면!
Woman: 아 어딜?
Man: 가면! 가면!

Man: 아우 이게 진짜 오빠한테 진짜!

Man: 이쪽, 이쪽!
Woman: 이쪽?
Man: 아니, 이쪽말이야!
Woman: 아, 쫌!

The issue that is causing the confusion is the fact that the man is using the phrase "내 가면." In standard Korean, this means only one thing, "my mask." However, because the 경상 dialect tends to suppress particles, it picks up a secondary meaning "내(가) 가면," meaning "when I leave."

So while the man is trying to tell his sister "bring my mask when you bring banchan," the sister keeps understanding it in the secondary meaning "bring the banchan when I leave," and wants to know where he's going, leading to massive frustration on both parties. It's a clever ad, no?

As an aside, many speakers of the 경상 dialect would find this advertisement unsatisfactory! It is likely that both actors (the woman for sure!) are not actual speakers of the dialect. In fact, the inflection of "가면" is different for the two meanings, so it would have enabled you to distinguish the two meanings of "내 가면" even with the suppressed particle. To say "mask," the right inflection is "가면↗" while "to go" is "가↘면," so there is a touch of artificiality in the above ad (but most Koreans won't pick up on it, so it doesn't matter, right?)

You could write an entire book about dialects of Korea (and many such books have indeed been written), and these dialects often amuse the internet because even the Koreans themselves are not aware of all of its interesting facts. I hope to write more about the dialects in the future, but in the meantime, if you have any questions, please leave them in the comments and I will be happy to answer them!

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