#33. 왕따 -- Bullied and ostricized

Here's a heavy topic. Korean schools are a pretty dangerous place.

Let me start by saying that there is no such word that describes a place like Korean schools in English. The word bullying just doesn't cut it. The only other language that I know of that has a word with a similar nuance is Japanese. They call it ijime (苛め/虐め). A quick look around Wikipedia seems to suggest that some European cultures such as the French, Italians, and the Germans are aware of it, but they also do not have words to describe what I am about to tell you.

Not this Carrie, but I find most screenshots of the movie Carrie to be too disturbing.

If I absolutely had to find something in the English-speaking world that is similar to the the bullying culture of Korea, I would maybe recommend that you read Stephen King's horror novel, Carrie (yes, it's that horrifying that it would get categorized as a horror novel if it were written). This is a huge social problem in Korea, because it's so widespread. A huge number of people experience what we call "왕따" at some point in their lives, sometimes leading to drastic consequences like suicide. As you can imagine, the Koreans take a very strong stance against it (but somehow, they have not been able to get rid of it). Because so many people experience this personally, if a celebrity is involved in a 왕따 scandal where he/she was the bully, it can effectively end your career in Korea.

The word "왕따" came into being in the 90s-00s when I was a student in South Korea Although the word is relatively new, the concept must be fairly old, as it is featured in some of the older literature, as well as throughout the history going as far back as the Goryeo dynasty (918-1392 A.D.). It is composed of two Korean words:

1.  "왕," which means "king"; and
2.  "따," short for "따돌림," which means "exclusion."

So the word literally means the "king of exclusion," or "the worst kind of exclusion," which I suppose is a form of bullying. The concept of 왕따 includes several specific forms of bullying under it. Some examples are:

1. 전따, the first word comes from 전교생, which means all the students in the school (the letter "전" means "every," as in "전부," "전체," etc.) It means that you are excluded by everyone in the school.
2. 은따, the first word of which comes from "은근히", which means "subtle." It means that you are being excluded in subtle ways.
3. 카따, the first word of which comes from "Kakaotalk," or "카카오톡" which is a Korean messaging system that almost everyone uses. It means that you are bullied and excluded on Kakaotalk.

You could use these words in a pretty straightforward way:

쟤는 잘난척하더니 결국 왕따가 됐네 (He became a 왕따 because he was so arrogant.)

Or:

소영이는 전교에 친구가 하나도 없는 전따야. (Soyoung is a 전따 who doesn't have any friends in the entire school.)

As you may imagine, there are countless other sub-types of 왕따 that exist. These types are evolving too. Children with boundless imaginations are unfortunately always coming up with new ways to bully someone. As a student before the Kakaotalk era, I saw the first two types of 왕따 first-hand, but the third type came into being long after I left Korea.

I went to school in Korea, Canada, and the US. In my experience, there was bullying in all countries, but the bullying in Korea just seemed to be the worst.

The thing about Korea is that groups are very, very valued. You are expected to fit into a group. People often stare at you if you eat alone in a restaurant. Going to see a movie or a performance alone is pretty weird in the Korean culture (actually, it's getting better now, and some brave people will go out and do these things alone, take pictures, and share it with their friends for the bragging rights. But it's that rare.) As a schoolgirl, you don't even go to the bathroom alone. A good friend will wait for you outside the stalls while you pee. Whatever it is that you are doing, you do it with a few other of your friends.  So, as a student, if you don't have any friends, you have to endure the stares and whispers of everyone in the school while you eat, while you go to the bathroom, while you walk alone in the halls, during the breaks, and during classes when team participation is expected. That's a pretty huge part of your school life.

Technically, all of these things could happen in the western world too (okay, minus the bathroom thing. I don't think anyone looks at you funny if you go to the bathroom by yourself). But the thing that makes the act of 왕따 truly devastating is that it often ends up involving everyone in the school (and often, even if you change schools, the rumour will eventually follow you.) Once you are labeled as a 왕따, the rumor spreads very quickly. Everyone knows that you are friendless, and no one wants to be near you, because to befriend 왕따 is to risk becoming a 왕따 yourself. As being in a group is more valued in Korea, no one wants to go against the majority and rescue you from your misery.

What's more is that most Koreans are fearful that they would one day become the 왕따. Korean school system assigns everyone to a classroom at the beginning of the school year, and you take all of your classes together with your classmates. When I was a student in Korea, it seemed that every class had a 왕따 or two (usually at least one of each gender). Since each class had about 30 students each, you had about one in fifteen chance of becoming a 왕따. And the reasons are so varied. You could become a 왕따 or any of the following reasons:

1. your friend group outed you, and once you were labelled, no one wanted to be your friend.
2. you were the smallest and the weakest of the class.
3. you were different in some way (Koreans don't like it when you stick out).
4. you had a different religion from everyone else in the class.
5. you liked a different boy band from everyone else in the class (I guess that's basically religion at that age)
6. your grades were too low and people started looking down on you.
7. your grades were too high and people got jealous.
8. you were too ugly.
9. you were too pretty.
10. they were afraid of becoming a 왕따 so they decided to strike first.
11. your friends' parents didn't like your parents and told their kids to not play with you.
12. just because.

You can pretty much become a 왕따 for hundreds of reasons. And it is so widespread. According to a Korean survey, 53.9% of college students in Korea responded that they have been the victim or an active instigator of 왕따, and it starts in elementary school. Things don't get much better when you are older, as 45% of the people in the workforce responded that they still have 왕따 at their work. The majority, 61%, of these people responded that the bullying and the exclusion is very serious. 75% of the total responds said that when they see a 왕따, they just remain as bystanders, because they don't believe that it would change anything (52.8%), and because they are afraid of becoming 왕따 themselves (12.3%).

Most Koreans have some latent fear that they will one day say some wrong thing, and become a 왕따. People who have experienced 왕따 (not surprisingly) report psychological effects, such as suicidal thoughts, depression, continuing difficulty in forming interpersonal relationships based on trust, and so on. There are even some cases where some students drove their peers to suicide. Whenever there is a public 왕따 scandal, the Koreans come down with full force and condemn the bullies. This is totally understandable since it's an issue that is relevant to their daily lives. But at the same time, most Koreans probably have experience not stepping up to help a 왕따. How do you reconcile the two? How do you fix something this toxic, yet this widespread?

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#32. 기승전 -- Always returning to the same topic

Here's a slightly nonstandard way to tell a compelling short story.

Start by introducing an attention-grabbing scene. For example, a hare makes fun of a tortoise for being slow. Immediately, we are annoyed with the hare, sympathize with the tortoise, and we are emotionally invested. We are setting the stage for the story to rise up to its full potential. In Korean, the Chinese letter "기" means "to rise." For example, "기립" means to "stand up," and "기상" means "to wake up."

You must then continue and develop the scene further, so that there is a story to it. The tortoise challenges the hare to a race. This is a story rather than a description, as it will have a clear ending to it, and it is more interesting than just a scene. In Korean, the Chinese letter "승" means "to continue, to relay." For example, "계승" means "to continue a lineage (for example, a prince becoming the king after his father dies is called 계승)."

An effective technique at this point is to talk about a completely different topic. For example, you describe all the beautiful flowers, feels the soft breeze, and the velvety grass. In Korean, the Chinese letter "전" means "to flip over." The word "반전" means "the event that is completely the opposite of what you might have expected."

Then you finish the story by connecting the two seemingly unrelated stories of "승" and "전." The hare then decides that it is time for a nap, and the tortoise is slow and steady, and wins the race. You get two stories in one, and so your conclusion is twice as powerful. In Korean, we call this "결," as in "결말" or "the end."

While these four letters are almost never used individually, this form of story-telling is called "기승전결." You can also use this for a slightly broader context, where "기승전결" just means "the form of story-telling." For example, you could say:

이 얘기는 기승전결이 너무 뻔하잖아 (this story is too cliché.)

You could also say

그 영화의 기승전결은 정말 신선했다. (that movie's story telling was very fresh/that movie had very fresh story-telling perspectives, etc.)

But then, there are people who never know when to let go of a certain topic. You see this the most often in children, although some adults also do this. Your 3-year-old niece might be obsessed with the latest Disney character, and demand that you buy her the doll at every possible moment.

You're having fun with your niece at the playground, when all of a sudden she runs over to you and ask for the doll. You're eating dinner with your niece, when she starts talking about her dream doll. You're walking down the street with her, when she tells you that you need to buy her that doll. You get the idea.

In Korean internet slang, you might say something like:

내 조카는 요즘 기승전인형이야.

The word "기승전인형" is very similar to "기승전결," but the letter "결" meaning "conclusion" has been replaced by "인형" meaning "doll." This neologism "기승전인형" literally means that no matter how the story is started and developed, the story ends with "인형," or a "doll." This perfectly describes your niece's condition, where she is so obsessed with getting that doll that regardless of the setting, she always returns to that topic.

You can replace "결" with pretty much anything imaginable. For example, for your friend who only cares about getting food, you could tell her that she is such a "기승전밥." For your parents who always pressure you to study, you tell them to stop being "기승전공부."

Aside from the slight sarcasm and the usual incomprehensibility issues for the very elderly who don't regularly go on the internet, you can use this word nearly anywhere informal.

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#31. Five slang words NOT to use if you want to appear cool

I decided to look around the internet for the English writings on the Korean slang today. And honestly, some of the posts that I found made me cringe. Not because they're incorrect, but because the slang that they introduced were so horribly outdated that even my parents wouldn't use them.

Korea is a very small country. There are very few major channels on TV, there are very few major TV series, and because the culture is reasonably homogeneous, everything spreads quickly. If a celebrity makes an appearance on TV and says something catchy, it could be the hot phrase the next day in all of Korea. Although some of these phrases and slang survive for years, some of them are very short-lived.

The following words are more or less dead. Unless you're trying to use them in an ironic way (for example, you are mocking someone for being old-fashioned), it is probably better to avoid the following words, as they are no longer in use.

• 당근: This word means "of course." In Korean, you would normally say "당연하지." Noticing that the first letter of "당연" and "당근" are the same, some people in the 2000s substituted "당근" and started saying "당근이지," or "당근" for "of course." This was very popular for a long time, but it slowly fell out of use, and is no longer used.
• 하이루: The Koreanization of the word "hi" would of course just be "하이." Back in the 90s, if someone greeted you with "하이," apparently you used to say "하이 too," which got shortened as "하이2 (2 = two = too phonetically)" and then "하이투." Sadly, the resolution wasn't the best back then, and the letters "투" and "루" looked very similar. Eventually "하이루" prevailed.
• 방가: This was often used in online chatting, if you wanted to say "nice to meet you," or "long time no see." The proper Korean would have been "반가워" or "반가워요," but since many Koreans pronounce these as "방가워" and "방가워요," this became popular in the 90s. When someone greeted you with "하이루," you always responded with "방가방가."
• 즐: "즐거운 하루 되세요" or "Have an enjoyable day" is a pretty standard formal goodbye. This gets used by salespeople, by automated machines, and also in games as you're logging out. In the mid-2000s, only the first letter of this word was used by the teens (usually in the chatrooms of online games) to wrap up a conversation. Eventually, it started getting used as "get lost," by dismissively typing out only the first letter of the formal goodbye.
• 안습: This word, also popular in the 2000s, is short for "안구에 습기차다." "안구" is a medical term for "eyeball," and "습기차다" means to "fog up" or "become humid." That is, this is a pretty fancy way of saying "I'm tearing up."

This of course makes Korean slang even trickier! The best way to stay on top of the slang game is to consume as much of the Korean culture as possible, so take some time to look around some of the largest internet communities of Korea, such as DC Inside, Today Humor, Ilbe (although this is politically charged and often shunned by many Koreans), Nate Pann, etc.

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#30. Creatively complaining about your dinner (where's the meat?)

A friend of mine posted a picture of his dinner on Facebook, that looked a lot like the following picture:

This is one of those things that everyone will either love or hate. The banchan (반찬, the side dishes aside from the rice and the soup) are all made up of spring herbs. They might look delicious and very seasonal to some people. But to most Koreans, where vegetarianism is not as common as in North America, it will look like there is not enough protein. Even the soup is made out of spring herbs!

One of the comments posted under my friend's photo had me laughing tears. One of the commenters said:

반찬이 개마고원이네. 대자연을 펼쳐놓은듯.

This is not a standard internet slang. In fact, this is the first time I have heard this expression. But Korean internet users value fresh expressions that are appropriate and humorous to the situation, and I thought that this was a perfect example of such an expression.

In the first half of the above quote, the commenter compares the 반찬 to 개마고원 (Kaema Plateau). Here is the picture of 개마고원:

"고원" means "highland/plateau." "개마" is just the name of this plateau, and it is located in North Korea.

개마고원 is well-known to the Koreans for a couple of reasons.

First of all, it is the largest highland plateau in the Korean peninsula, so you learn to memorize its name in school. It is also known for being home to many wild animals, and it is said to be very well-preserved due to sparse population.

But perhaps more importantly, it is also one of the maps that appear on Starcraft... I suppose I will never know which of these two reasons prompted the above comment, but I have my suspicions.

Anyway, the first part of the quote compares the 반찬 to 개마고원, which seems pretty hilarious both for the comparison, but also the random appearance of 개마고원, which is appropriate but unexpected.

The second half of the quote is also not very different. The commenter says that "대자연,"or "the great nature" is spread out on the table, and the grandeur of the comment contrasts with the simple meal to create humour.

These kinds of fresh expressions are welcomed and well-loved on the Korean internet. This kind of creativity is what makes the Korean internet unique (it contrasts with the deadpan humour of Reddit in my opinion, for example.) This must also be one of the reasons why the Korean internet slang has such a short lifespan. Many of these slang come from novel expressions from random internet users that caught on, and as there is no shortage of witty internet users, the internet slang keeps evolving at a breakneck speed.

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Listening exercise with transcript #5: A quick lesson in makeup

Here is a short video of a girl named Sulli, who goes through her makeup routine. She speaks in very short sentences, but to me, her speaking seems a lot more natural than what you normally see captured on video. Enjoy!

안녕하세요! 설리입니다. 지금 칸쿤에 와있습니다. 먼저 미스트.

뭘바를까? 이색깔. 짠! 무슨색깔이 어울릴까? 세번째!

복숭아 메이크업이에요. 어떻게 하냐면... 이렇게 하면 뽀뽀치크! 짠!

 During this short segment, she uses two neologism.

First, "복숭아 메이크업" means a makeup that reminds you of a peach. A peach is often white and pinkish red, and it seems popular in Korea to follow this colour scheme when you're doing your makeup. You see this word commonly in Korean beauty articles.

Secondly, she makes up another word "뽀뽀치크." The word "뽀뽀" means a "kiss," usually on the cheek. You use this word when the kiss doesn't have romantic undertone (and often said with a bit of childishness.) For example, if a child kisses her mother, you say:

아기가 엄마한테 뽀뽀했다.

You never say:

아기가 엄마한테 키스했다.

 So Sulli is using a non-romantic word for "kiss," since she kisses her hand to colour her cheeks.

The word "치크" is the Koreanized "cheek." Since she has quite literally kissed her cheeks to get those blush and colours on her cheeks, she is making up a new word "뽀뽀치크," or kissed cheek.

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#29. 관종 -- Craving attention

In English, we call them "attention whores." In real life, these people are willing to do anything to make sure that they are always in the centre of attention: they fake illnesses, and they scream, cry, and storm out in rage when they're not getting the attention they want. Online, they provoke by making outlandish statements, harass other users, and spread falsehoods.

In Korean, the word "attention" can be translated as "관심." The phrase "giving attention" is translated exactly in Korean as well, as "관심을 주다." You can use them in standard sentences such as

학생들에게 관심을 주면 그들은 더 빨리 발전해요 (If you give attention to the students, they improve more quickly.)

There are other phrases that are direct equivalents of English phrases. For example, "Not paying attention" is written in standard formal Korean as "관심을 주지 않다," simply negating the previous sentence. If the action of not paying attention is deliberate, you would probably use the word "ignore" in English, and "무시하다" in Korean.

If you pin down someone as an attention whore, and decide to no longer pay attention, however, you can say this in two ways in Korean. In a more standard Korean, you would say "더이상 (no longer) 관심을 주지 않다," but you can also say "관심을 끄다." This latter phrase is an informal slang that has been around for a long time, which translates as "turn off your attention."

Moving towards the more recent slang, the attention whores of Korea go by several names, all of which are pretty offensive and are only really good for the internet, or for your worst enemies whom you're looking to pick a fight with. You can call them:

• 관심병자, where you compare the attention-seeking behaviour to an "attention (관심) disease (병)." As "자" means a "person," a "관심병자" is a person who is suffering from the malaise of attention.
• 관심종자. A "종자" is a breed of an animal. Instead of just calling people out on their compulsion to seek attention (which is actually a thing; for example, people suffering from histrionic disorder often engage in attention-seeking behaviour,) this word actually groups all of these attention whores together and label them as a breed of an animal. Needless to say, this word is more derogatory than "관심병자," where you're at least treated like a human being!
• 관종. Koreans really like to shorten compound words, and it is often done by taking the first letter of each of the words that form the compound word. In this case, 관심종자 is made up of two words, "관심" and "종자," so take the first letters from each word to get "관종." This has the effect of making the word even more informal, and somehow it is even more degrading since you can't even be bothered to spell out the whole word.

There are many ways to call out a 관종 on the web. You could call them out directly by saying

관종짓 하지 마라. (Don't engage "하지마라" in the behaviour "짓"  that seeks attention "관종".)

You could also insult them indirectly to the other users online about this troll, and say

관종이 또 한 마리 나타났네 (It seems that another attention whore appeared).

Note the use of the counter "마리," which is never used for counting people (it is only for animals!), but since "관종" compares people to animals, using this counter enables you to insult the attention whore further.

Or you could also use a liberal amount of sarcasm, and say

옛다, 관심 (Here you go, some attention for you).

"옛다" is an old Korean word meaning "here you go" or "voilà/tiens," when an older person is giving something (not very valuable) to a younger person as a favour. For example, if your grandfather were giving you a piece of chocolate, he might say "옛다, 초콜렛 먹어라." But if he were giving you a gold necklace, he probably would not say this.

While it is no longer really used in real life, this word signifies that you are doing them a small favour because they really crave your attention. It further signifies that it is not a huge deal for you to turn your attention to them for a little bit. Since they are usually trying pretty hard to grab all the attention that they can, this phrase belittles all of their efforts, and insults them in a slightly different way (by making them realize how childish they are being, and how you're basically indulging them for a moment.) You see these phrases a lot in internet forums, where a lot of trolls are known to appear.

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#28. 호구 -- The giving tree

I have already talked about how the game of Go (바둑) is nationally loved by the Koreans in a previous post. In case you have never tried playing it, the game works as follows. Two players, one playing black stones and the other white stones, take turns placing one stone each on the game board. The object is to surround as much territory on the game board as possible with your stones. When your stones is surrounded completely by your enemy's stones, they are captured by your enemy.

Here, the black stone in the centre is completely surrounded by white stones, so it will be captured and removed.

There are certain basic formations of stones that everyone should recognize. The following is the most basic formation:

As the white player, you never want to place your stone in position A, because then the black player will surely place her next stone in position B and capture your stone in position A. The position A is a dangerous, forbidden territory for the white player. Every 바둑 player is expected to recognize this formation, and as it is so basic and common-sense, it is even given a name. This formation of stones is called a "호구."

The letter "호" comes from the Chinese letter meaning a "tiger." This is the same letter that appears in the Korean word "호랑이" meaning tiger.

The letter "구" comes from the Chinese letter meaning "mouth." For example, "대구 (cod)" is called this in Korean because a cod has a really big mouth, and "대" means "large." "이목구비" literally means "ear, eye, mouth, and nose," or in other words, the components of your face.

Anyway, the above Go formation is called a "호구" or a "tiger's mouth," because the formation looks a bit like the open mouth of a tiger (if you don't see it, think about Pacman.) Placing your stone inside the open mouth is as dangerous as a tiger's mouth, because you will almost surely lose your stone, just like how you would almost surely lose your hand if you placed it inside a tiger's mouth.

But then, there are those people in life. The kind of people who do stupid things, knowing that they will probably lose out by doing these things. But they do it anyway. You probably know some of those people. The dude who does everything that he can for his girlfriend (who treats him terribly) knowing full well that he will one day get dumped (From the girl's point of view, he is the opposing player who keeps putting stone after stone into the 호구, almost like an open wallet.) That girl who always buys people lunch although no one ever reciprocates.

Nowadays, both online and offline (although it probably originated online), we call these people "호구" (to be completely precise, they shouldn't be called "호구" but rather, the opposing player who places their stones inside the 호구, but sometimes meanings get lost in favour of brevity.) So for that dude who can't seem to stop giving to his terrible girlfriend, you might want to say something like:

그 여자는 널 호구취급해. (She treats you like an open wallet.)

To the girl who buys everyone's lunch all the time, you might say:

니가 호구니? 정신차려. (Wake up, you're not the giving tree.)

Of course, there is some distinction to be made between generosity and being taken advantage of. The word "호구" is only used in this latter case.

Furthermore, since the word comes from 바둑, even the elderly should be able to guess its meaning. So you can try out this word to pretty much any Korean, save for a very formal setting (such as writing a report, or when you're meeting the boss of your boss).

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