Listening Exercise with Transcript #7: Tunak Tunak Tun!

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

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

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

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

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

레에나아아아아아아아아아
흐아아아
아아아아아아아아아아아아
아아아
아아아아아아
어어어어어어어어어 어어어

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

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

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

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

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

(instrumental)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#41. 청개구리 -- You little contrarian

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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#40. 호모나 게이득 -- A contradictory society

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

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

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

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

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

호모나 게이득!

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

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

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

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

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

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#39. 발암 -- It's killing me!

Here's an expression that I'm not a huge fan of, but it is used widely as of a couple of years ago.

There's some degree of belief among the Koreans (although not nearly as widespread as fan death, I think!) that stress causes cancer. FYI, it seems that there's no real evidence that stress causes cancer at the moment.

Anyway, if you frequent the Korean internet, you will undoubtedly see a lot of stress-inducing users. Some of them are so blinded by their own convictions that they refuse to have a conversation, preferring to more or less resort to circular logic and using the technique of 도배 to get through their points. Some of them are so foul-mouthed (even by Korean standards!) that you actually cannot stand reading their profanity. You of course see them everywhere on the internet worldwide, but because of the unique Korean internet culture, I always find that the problematic users are more problematic in Korea. At least, while I am very rarely bothered by the anglophone or francophone internet users (the only two other languages that I am confident with) I am often shaking my head at the Korean internet users.

This, of course, happens a lot less frequently in real life, but these people exist nonetheless.

Since some of these experiences are stress-inducing (and downright traumatizing if you're not used to the Korean internet culture,) the Koreans call these people "carcinogenic," or "발암" in Korean. The letter "발" means to "induce," as in "유발 (to cause)" or "시발점 (starting point)." The letter "암," of course, just means "cancer."

The word "발암" is completely standard, featured in Korean dictionaries, and if you wanted to use it in its proper way, you say it in sentences such as:

석면은 발암물질이다. (Asbestos is a carcinogenic material.)

However, in its neologism, it means that you are so angry and frustrated, and that you have that feeling of stuck 고구마 in your chest (probably eventually leading to cancer.) In this usage, Koreans might say:

 보람이는 남의 말은 들으려고 하지도 않아. 걘 정말 발암이야. (Boram never listens to others. She is carcinogenic.)

You could also use it as a prefix, and talk about a "발암 영상" (cancer-inducing video clip, meaning a video clip that makes the viewer angry and frustrated) or "발암 경기" (cancer-inducing game, when your team played so terribly that you nearly died from the frustration).

When I first heard it a couple of years ago, I was so violently against this expression because it felt like such a heartless and uncouth thing to say when so many people are affected by cancer each year. However, this word seems to be used in a fairly lighthearted way, often just substituting the word "frustrating." I am still very much against it and have never used it myself, and perhaps for the same reason, this word seems to be in a rapid decline -- I saw it everywhere a year ago, but not nearly as much nowadays. It's not completely out of fashion yet, however.

For this reason, I would reserve using this word only for conversations with very close friends, or on the internet (where more things are forgivable, for what it's worth.) But in any case, it's a good usage to know, since otherwise the expression probably doesn't make sense as a non-Korean.

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#38. Knowing your internet literature

Today, I was browsing the Korean websites as usual, when I came across the following post (which I re-create below for the ease of reading.)

Title: 놀이공원이 없는 마을에서 (In a village that has no amusement parks)
Text (very short): 이장님이 허락한 아이들의 유일한 마약 (The only drug that the mayor allowed the children to access)
Accompanying gif:

A lot of posts in Korean internet forums are very short, like this one. They are intended for a quick chuckle (or a quick fit of laughter, in many cases!) and you move on. The issue is that there's more to these posts than what's shown on the surface!

The post itself is fairly easy to understand (maybe the accompanying text is a bit bizarre, but I'll explain that below.) With a funny gif (that is not even Korean,) the Koreans enjoy creating the caption that goes with it. In our case here, they are imagining a village with no amusement parks, and the adults manually providing an amusement park-esque entertainment to the children.

Of course, that's only mildly funny, and I would not even break into a faint smile reading that.

What makes this post truly funny is the accompanying short text that says "이장님이 허락한 아이들의 유일한 마약."

I hope this text looks vaguely familiar! A very similar text made an appearance a while ago in one of my posts. In the post, a Korean teenager full of 허세 posted in his social media account (most likely Cyworld) that "음악만이 나라에서 허락한 유일한 마약 (music is the only drug allowed by the nation.)"

Although this original embarrassing post went viral at least 15 years ago, Koreans found it too funny to forget. And now they are paying tribute to this original post by modifying it and quoting it. And everyone reading it will be reminded of the original 허세 post.

This is one of the reasons that makes the Korean internet so difficult to navigate! Not only do you need to be fluent in the Korean language, you also need to understand the cultural context that lies behind it. It might date back only a decade or so like in this case, but in other cases, you need to know some Korean history to truly understand what's going on, as in knowing how to say that you're good with women, or when you're trying to pretend that you can read people's minds.

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#37. 동공지진 -- Oh, Sh!t

Have you ever had that experience, where you know you screwed up, and you have no idea how to get yourself out of the situation? You're embarrassed, you feel terrible, you want to apologize but you're not sure how things will go from there, and there doesn't seem to be much else that you can do. You're stuck and you know it. And you can't bring yourself to make eye contact with anyone.

So you carefully control your gaze, but of course, that means your gaze just wanders everywhere except that one place every few seconds. Oops.

Koreans have a really cute expression for this situation. They call this state "동공 지진." Here, "동공" means "pupil." "지진" means "earthquake." Namely, your pupils are shaking as if there was an earthquake going on.

While this is not often used in a sentence, and rather as a very short expression like "oh, snap!" you'll see this word a fair bit in TV subtitles (Korean TV usually has subtitles, and they're pretty witty and hilarious!) such as in the following image:

Then you know that the woman in the image got into some trouble that is difficult to get out of. If you wanted to really use it in a sentence, you would use it mostly in internet-style dialogues, such as:

동공지진 보소 ㅋㅋㅋㅋ (look at your eyes shaking lol)

I suppose I find this word to be hilarious because the two words that make up this new expression are fairly scientific words. No one would say "동공" in a regular conversation. They would say "눈동자." And "지진," while used commonly, is still a word you hear in a science class. These two highly scientific words combined in an unusual way to describe a pretty cute situation, and I detect humour from there, as do most other Koreans.

The word is not offensive, but the word seems fairly new, maybe only a couple of years old, and I would restrict the usage to fairly young people, maybe people in their 30s and younger.

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#36. 부심 -- Be proud of who you are (but don't be overly so)

If you have spent any time in Korea, or if you have any friends who identify culturally with Korea, you might have noticed that they are pretty humble about their achievements. This probably stems from the culture of putting the community first before yourself, and it is one of the most intricate aspects of the Korean culture that I cannot explain in a single post. The Koreans react more strongly even to what we call humblebrag (where people pretend to be humble while fishing for compliments), and learning to brag in Korea without turning half of your friends into enemies might take a very, very long time.

Anyway, that doesn't mean the Koreans don't have any self-esteem. In fact, there's a whole family of words related to your self-esteem. The stem of all of these words come from the standard Korean word "자부심." It could be translated as self-pride, but it's a bit more than that in nuance. It's believing that you're in a good place in whatever aspect is being discussed, you're confident because of how you feel about yourself, and so you love yourself a little bit more than the others. For example, when you win a prize in something and you get awarded the prize in front of your entire school during the school assembly (this does happen on a regular basis in Korea), you are probably feeling "자부심." It's not as permanent as self-confidence for most people, although I'm sure that some people live with it all the time.

Sorry for being pretty!

In the word "자부심," the letter "자" has a Chinese origin, meaning "self." For example, "자신" or "자기" both means "oneself.

Anyway, this is not necessarily a negative word. For example, a school principal might tell the students:

여러분은 이 학교의 학생이라는것에 자부심을 가져야 합니다. (You should feel proud that you are students of this school.)

But depending on context, it could have negative meanings, if someone is too confident.

Anyway, if "자" means "self," what should "부심" mean? Well, "자부심" roughly means "self-confidence," "self-love," and all that stuff, so "부심" should mean "confidence," or "love."

Thus another internet slang was born. If a friend of yours, call her 인아, is the class president (in Korean, we call that "반장." The letter "반" means "class" as in "1학년 1반 -- class 1 of grade 1," and "장" means "captain," "leader," etc., as in "대장 (captain)," "장군 (general)," "회장 (CEO or the leader of a company)" and so on,) and say that she is always shoving the fact that she is the class president in your face. Maybe she always orders you around. Maybe she calls you to check that you've done your homework, or maybe she makes you clean the classroom after classes way more often than you should. And she thinks that she's better than everyone because she's the class president.

Then while you talk about her behind her back with your other friends (as you will sooner or later do, if you had a friend like that!) you might say,

인아는 반장부심이 너무 커. (Ina is too confident and proud of the fact that she is the class president.)

Here, the word "반장부심" should mean something like "loving the status of 반장," or "being confident of the fact that she is a 반장." That is, you replace the word "self" by "class president" in the nuance given by "자부심." In creating this new word, not only did the Koreans succeed in accurately conveying the (annoying) characteristic of certain people, they also managed to slip in a bit of snideness into this expression. When someone is using a word of this type, they are definitely being sarcastic and making fun of someone.

 Or if your friend is an athelete ("운동선수," literally a competitor of sports) and always looks down on the less athletic people, you could say:

운동선수부심좀 그만 부려. (Stop being so cocky just because you're an athlete.)

If someone is a wine snob and doesn't let anyone forget it, you could say:

그 애는 와인부심이 너무 심해 (He has too much of a wine snobbery.)

And so on. People really do say it in real life, but be careful of overusing it, as it could really offend someone!

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