Monday, July 24, 2017

#73. 외계어 -- The Korean Pig Latin

Derived languages such as Pig Latin are great for communicating secretly. You're either in on the secret, or you're not. And it's a great way to feel that you belong in a group. For example, many young people speak it to each other, hoping that the adults don't understand.

Korean also has an equivalent of Pig Latin. It's often called "외계어" or "도깨비어".

The suffix "-어" means "language." For example, "영어" is English (language of "영국"), "프랑스어" is French (language of "프랑스"), and so on.

"외계" means "out of this world." Both letters forming this word come from Chinese. "외" means "outside" as in "외국" (abroad -- outside of the country) or "외출" (to go out). "계" means "boundary," as in "세계" (world -- all the boundaries) or "한계" (limit). So, "외계" means "outside the boundary," and it often gets interpreted as being outside of our world. For example, "외계인" means "aliens (the noun meaning beings from outer space)."

So, "외계어" is the language that is not from this world. Similarly, "도깨비어" means the "language of the hobgoblins," which should be equally incomprehensible to the humans.

Here's a clip of some girls speaking this Korean Pig Latin. In the clip, they call it "도깨비어."



And here's how you speak the Korean Pig Latin like these girls on the clip.
  1. Pick a consonant. "ㅇ" is not a great choice, but anything else is. Let's pick "ㅂ".
  2. Pick a phrase that you'd like to convert into 도깨비어. Let's say that I want to convert "안녕하세요."
  3. First, take each letter, and lengthen it into two syllables by prolonging the pronunciation on each word. For example, "안" becomes "아안", "녕" becomes "녀엉", "하" becomes "하아", "세" becomes "세에", and "요" becomes "요오." Literally just drag out each letter, and write down how it sounds!
  4. Now, replace the first "ㅇ" in the second syllable by the consonant of your choice. So "아안" becomes "아반," "녀엉" becomes "녀벙," "하아" becomes "하바", "세에" becomes "세베", and "요오" becomes "요보."
  5. And that's it! You just put all of these words together. So, "안녕하세요" becomes "아반녀벙하바세베요보."
With practice, just like Pig Latin, it becomes pretty easy to understand the 외계어. For example, here's a conversation you might have with your friend:

A: 너 외계어 할 줄 알아? (Do you know how to speak the Korean Pig Latin?)
B: 으븡, 하발주불아발아바. (from 응, 할줄알아 -- Yes, I know how to speak it.)

Of course, you could have picked another consonant, say "ㅅ," and the phrase "응, 할줄알아" would become "으승, 하살주술아살아사."

As for the clip above, I shall leave you, the readers, to pore over it! Leave a comment if you think you can understand even a fragment of it -- otherwise, you have a teaser for this week's listening exercise, to be published at 10pm EDT on Saturday, as always! :)

Sunday, July 23, 2017

#72. 찐따 -- Ugh, you loser

A shout-out to Shane for asking about this word! Thank you for suggesting this post, and please keep the suggestions coming :)

Early 20th century Korea has seen a lot of hardship.

In 1910, the Japanese occupation began, and continued until the end of the second world war in 1945. The VJ (victory over Japan) day is still celebrated as the national independence day (광복절) in Korea. (As an aside, although the official VJ day seems to be in September, Koreans celebrate it on August 15 -- I guess the news must have traveled to Korea first!) Then in 1954, the Korean war broke out, and many people either fled to the southern parts of Korea, or lived under the communist regime.

In particular, the Japanese occupation was awful.

People lost all they had, in order to support Japan in their efforts in WWII. Men were forced to fight for Japan in wars against their wishes; women were forced to "comfort" the Japanese soldiers sexually; in their own version of the Holocaust, biological and chemical experiments were done on living people; and in an effort to make the annexation of Korea permanent, schools were not allowed to teach in Korean anymore -- all lessons were to be done in Japanese.

For example, my grandmother, who spent her childhood under the Japanese annexation, had all her lessons done in Japanese. She did not learn to properly read and write in Korean long after the Korean war was over. Even now, many elderly people of Korea sometimes substitute a Japanese word for a Korean word, because they were more familiar to the Japanese words as a kid and it stuck.

This Rising Sun flag, often used in the Japanese military campaign, elicits the same kind of response from Koreans as a Nazi swastika might from the Jews.

This is why there is a national outcry, if a public figure slips into a word with a Japanese origin in public. If you watch the Korean shows, you might notice that the Korean celebrities never say "wasabi" or "와사비" in Korean, even though it is common enough with ordinary citizens. Instead, they must say "고추냉이," which is how you properly say "horseradish" in Korean. If any public figure wears clothing items that remind the Koreans of the Rising Sun flag (the Japanese military flag), an immediate public outcry follows, and more often than not, the celebrity must issue a public apology.

This celebrity, 정찬우, had to apologize for wearing a shirt that reminds the Koreans of the Rising Sun flag. More recently, Tiffany of Girls' Generation came under fire for a similar problem, and she has not yet completely recovered from it!

Although daily efforts are being made in order to abolish traces of the Japanese language from this occupation period, some words managed to survive. The word "찐따" is one of them.

People suspect that it comes from the Japanese word "찐빠," which means "uneven." It is said to have been used by the Japanese to mock the people who limp. Some older Koreans recount that they used to mock the child with polio a "찐빠," and some older Koreans will say "이 물건 찐빠났네" to say that "This product is defective (A defect has been caused in this product)." Over time, the word "찐빠" morphed into its current form, "찐따."

Nowadays, the word "찐따" means "A pathetic person who does pathetic things." Of course, the meaning of Korean slang tends to broaden as time goes on, and nowadays, people use this word to denote anyone from just being frustratingly introverted to someone who gets everything wrong, to someone who doesn't fit in. You could reasonably replace the English word "loser" by "찐따" in almost every imaginable context. For example:
"나 오늘 찐따같이 밥 혼자먹었어." (I ate alone today like a loser)
in which case the word "찐따" is used almost playfully. On the other hand:
"걔는 정말 찐따같이 눈치가 하나도 없어." (He is a real loser, he can't read social cues at all)
In this case, the word "찐따" is a real insult.

So, why is this word so popular, given the usual Korean aversion to Japanese words? I think it's because this word is so close to the Korean words 왕따, 전따, 카따, etc. So most Koreans (and Shane, who suggested this post) assume that "찐따" also derives from pure Korean, having a very similar root to these words.

In general, unless used playfully (and even then!) it is an offensive word, and I would avoid using this word in conversations, however.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Listening exercise with transcript #12: An advice to those who are in love

Here, a Korean celebrity 홍석천 talks about being in love.

To digress a little bit about 홍석천, he is the only celebrity who came out as gay in Korea. He came out publicly in 2000. Despite his popularity, his career took a severe hit (I have talked a little bit about the status of LGBT rights in Korea in this post) and he took a break from his entertainment career for many years (it is rumoured that he was unofficially blacklisted by the broadcasting companies).

Despite all this, he made a comeback in 2007, and often makes jokes about being gay, and even playfully makes advances on other male celebrities, and all of it is laughed off (but honestly, if another celebrity came out, I think he would also still face backlash). You can tell that there is a lot of hurt in him in the rare occasion when he opens up in an interview, but he generally plays the happy-go-lucky character.

Thanks to his unique position that he is quite literally the only visible gay person in Korea with any public influence, he does a lot of charity work for the sexual minorities of Korea.

Anyway, in this clip, he gives a general advice to people who are in love. Instead of his usual happy disposition, he is in a pensive mood. As such, he repeats himself a bit and rambles on. He also uses a lot of filler words, which I find to be interesting! I have highlighted the filler words in blue, so that you can see how the Koreans might use it. It's not the most articulate of interviews that he's done, but it shows how Koreans might talk when they haven't prepared their speech in advance, and they're thinking as they go.



사랑은 이렇게 내눈을 한번 이렇게 뿌옇게 만드는 묘한 효과가 있어가지고... 뽀샵효과가 있어서
Love has this effect of clouding my eyes... the Photoshop effect

뭔짓을 하고, 뭔말을 듣고, 무슨행동을 하고,
Whatever they do, whatever they say, or whatever they do

그래도 뽀샵이 걸린 상태에서는 제대로  판단을  못하게끔 만들거든, 사랑이라는게.
But under the effects of Photoshop, it's hard to properly make a decision. That's love.

주변사람의 충고, 조언도 안듣고, 막 이런 혼자 자기 고집이생기고.
You don't listen to warning or advice of the people around you, and you become stubborn.

그런것들이 생겨서 사실은 자신을 객관화시키는걸 잘 못해.
Because of these things, it's hard to be objective to yourself.

사랑이 그런거야. 그래서 정신차려야되는거야 사람이
That's love. That's why you need to hold onto your sanity.

자칫 잘못하면 사랑으로 포장된 어떤 관계에 내 인생이 망가지는 경우가 너무 많아.
With one mistake, you could ruin your life through a relationship packaged as love.

그래서 내가 봤을때는 사랑도 마찬가지고, 선택이고,
In my opinion, love is the same thing, it's a choice.

인생도 항상 매 순간순간마다 선택의 연속인데
Just like life, it's about making choices at ever moment.

그 선택을 내가 잘 하느냐에 따라서 내 인생이 잘 풀리느냐 아니면 어딘가에 구렁텅이에 떨어지느냐 이건데
Depending on how well I make the choice, my life could go well, or it could fall into an abyss
 
사랑도 마찬가지야, 상대가 있기때문에.  혼자만 하는게 아니잖아.
It's the same thing with love, because you have the other person, you can't do it alone.

내맘대로 되는게 아니잖아 사랑이라는게
Things don't always go your way in love.

항상 상대가 있기 때문에. 그 상대를 선택하는것도 내 책임이고
There's always the other person. But it's my responsibility to choose the other person.

상대를 선택하는 기준도 내 안에 있는거지
The criterion for the choice is within my control.

근데 그런것들이 , 커가는환경이라던가, 내가 경험했던 모든거라던가,
 But these things, like your upbringing, your experiences,

내가 그전에 사겼던어떤헤어진사람에 의해서, 내가 배운 어떤 교육에 의해서든
or what you learned from your previous relationships, or your education,

뭐가됬든 선택을 하는거기때문에
whatever [your criteria] are, it's making a choice.

마지막 인생에서 내 인생의 반려자라고
So when you decide that someone is your life's partner, your life's last partner,

진실된 사랑이라고 내가 판단을 해서 웨딩마치를 올리던 반지를 서로 나누던
that it's true love. So when you decide to get married, or share a ring.

그런거 할때는 이게 진짜 내 사랑인가
 When you do these things, you have to ask whether it's really your love

진실된 사랑이고 진실된 인연인가에 대해서
whether it's true love, and a true relationship

고민을 그때가서 정말 심각하게 해야지.
You really have to think very seriously at that point. 

선택을 정확하게 내 인생을 걸고 해야되는거지.
You have to make a precise choice, and you have to bet your life on it.

Friday, July 21, 2017

#71. 맘충 -- Your kid is NOT the best

Some parents... should not be parents. I often find myself raging (internally, because I'm a loser) at parents who cannot control their kids not to kick the seat in front of them in planes. Then there are parents who let their kids run around screaming in restaurants, and so on.

Korea is a breeding ground for such parents. This is because Korea is not a society built on just law. Because of the influence of Confucianism (유교 in Korean), the Koreans also expect that there should be some kind of warmth when dealing with one another. Doing things exactly by law makes you seem a bit heartless to the Koreans' eyes.

If you're renovating your home and making a lot of noise? It's not required by law, but it's nice to visit your neighbours with a bit of snack and apologize in advance. Eating lunch with someone your junior? If you can afford it, it's nice to offer to pay for her. If you're a shopkeeper and an adorable and well-mannered child walks in with his mother? Not required, but you would often feel compelled to give out a piece of candy for the child for free.

To the Koreans, these kinds of gestures (usually given out from the one who holds a bit more power to the one who is weaker) make you human, and in many cases, these kinds of gestures are expected.

But here's one case where this becomes a little hazy. Usually, elder people extend these courtesies to the younger people, because they are the ones in position of power. Or if you're being a bother, you extend these courtesies to the person you are bothering. But, what if a child is bothering the others? It's a child, and children are cute, so should everyone else be courteous and do favours for the child, or should the child make some kind of gesture since she is bothering the others?

To most of us, the answer is clear. If the child is being excessively annoying, the parents should apologize on the child's behalf, and make sure that they are preventing everything that they can. However, you can see that certain self-centered people might think that since they are with a child (read: helpless but really cute things) other people should be extending courtesies to make their lives easier.

For example, see the snippet of a text conversation below (translation follows):



A: Hello, I would like the baby crib ("나눔" means "sharing," but in this context, it means "giving away for free.")
B: Sorry?
A: My due date is approaching ㅠㅠ If you're not using the baby crib, could you give it to me?
B: Where did you see it? I'm not giving it away, I'm trying to sell it.
A: I saw it on 중고나라 (Korean version of Craigslist). I don't have a lot of money.
B: Oh, I'm trying to sell it because I don't have a lot of money either.
A: ㅗㅗㅗ (note that the Korean vowel "ㅗ" looks like the middle finger. This is the quickest way to say f*ck you.)

Here, the person "A" (in gray) expected the person "B" (in green) to extend the courtesy, because she will have a baby soon. In normal context, this is not unusual to expect in Korea. If your neighbour is having a baby, and you have a bunch of old baby stuff that your child grew out of, you might reasonably offer to give all of these things to your neighbour without getting a penny. But of course, this depends on your decision, and your neighbour should never expect it from you, or even ask you for them (although they might be secretly hoping for it). Unfortunately, as this kind of behaviour happens fairly frequently in the Korean society, some people started taking things for granted, like the woman in the above text.

The problem is that 1) the person A is demanding these things (very rude), and 2) they are strangers. Furthermore, 3) person B was selling the bed and A wanted it for free. Seriously, wtf? I'm pretty sure that Confucius would not approve of this behaviour.

Unfortunately, Korea seems to have a lot of mothers who behave in an unreasonable way (yes, fathers also do it too, but thanks to Confucianism still rooted in the society, there are many more full-time moms than full-time dads, and so a stereotype has stuck that mothers are unreasonable.)

Koreans have an appropriate word for someone like her. They call her a "맘충." Person B might tell her friend:
"오늘 맘충이 나한테 문자해서 침대를 공짜로 달라고 하더라." (Today, a 맘충 texted me asking for the baby crib for free.)
 "맘충" is made up from two words.

"맘" is the English word "mom" written in Korean.

"충" means "insect" in Chinese. For example, "곤충" means "insect", and "해충" means "pest (but just the insects).

So, the Koreans have taken to calling the terrible moms such as A a "맘충," or "the insect of a mother."  Remember that "-충" is a good suffix to attach to the object of scorn, such as "급식충" or schoolchildren. So this is pretty much the worst insult you can hurl off to a mother who is behaving terribly, using her child as an excuse. You'd have to be pretty upset to use it in anyone's face, although if you're talking behind someone's back with your friends, you might use it a bit more liberally. I guess that is the case with most insults.

Thursday, July 20, 2017

#70. 골때린다 -- I feel as if I've been hit on the head.

Everyone probably has a memory of the moment of betrayal by someone trusted. Maybe your boyfriend, with whom you were completely in love with, broke up with you out of nowhere. Maybe your sister knew a secret about you and promised not to tell mom, but then she did.

The moment you find out about this betrayal, especially if the person who betrayed you was someone you deeply trusted, there is actually a physical response to this. Blood rushes to your ears, your face turns red, and you're not really sure if you're hearing everything correctly. It almost feels as if someone took a swing at your head.

Koreans often describe this feeling as
"머리가 띵해지는 기분이야." (It feels as if my head was '띵해지다')
and the verb "띵해지다" describes exactly the above physical response. This word is slang, although not offensive and widely known among all demographics. It is so well-known that you can probably even use it in formal settings. For example, if you're having a bad headache and what you're feeling is similar to how you would feel in a case of betrayal (often a heavy dose of cough syrup does this to me), you could describe your condition to your doctor by saying:
머리가 띵해요.
Before this expression existed, though, there was actually another expression in our parents' generation. This expression, once identical to "머리가 띵해지다," is "골때린다." The word "골" means "bones" in Chinese. In this particular context, it probably means your skull, which is "해골" in Korean. Remembering that Koreans like to take off the first letter of a word in order to become more informal and more vulgar, it is likely that "골" is a vulgarized form of "해골." And of course, "때린다" is "to hit," and its infinitive form is "때리다."

So, "골때린다" literally means "to hit (my) skull."

For example, if your boyfriend just dumped you out of nowhere, in your anger, you could say:
"너 정말 골때린다." (I feel as if you just hit me in the head.)
And your (ex-)boyfriend will get that you are hurt by his betrayal, and understand that you weren't expecting it at all.

However, as this expression has been around for a long time, and almost everyone uses it, it lost some of its strong meaning. This is because Koreans like to exaggerate. So now you can use this expression without offending in certain cases. If your friend tells you a really funny joke, you can say
"ㅋㅋㅋ 너 정말 골때린다." (I feel as if you just hit me in the head.)
In this case, this expression serves as a bit of a compliment, because you're acknowledging that his joke was completely unexpected, and it had an impact on you (as if you've been hit in the head.) The context makes this phrase almost a compliment, and your friend will remember your comment with pride.

"새끼" is a derogatory way to denote a person. "새끼" originally means young animals. So, "that person" is not only young (in Korean, treating someone your age or older as if they're younger than you is a huge insult), but also is nothing but an animal. Apparently, the guy in the picture has been surprised by someone to the degree where he feels hit in the head.


You have to be very careful of when you use it, though. For example, say that you went to a karaoke room for the first time with your friend. And your friend's singing is hilarious in a bad way. It's just not what you expected at all (maybe her singing voice is funny, or she is so absorbed in her emotion that she looks a bit ridiculous, or whatever. Just you did not see it coming at all and it's really bad.) Then you could say:
"너 노래 정말 골때리게 부른다." (I feel as if I've been hit in the head by your singing.)
She'll probably get really mad at you, and you'd have deserved it if you say it, because she didn't intend to surprise you with her singing. So this is not a good place to use this phrase.

However, if your friend was just being rude at the karaoke, not letting you take your turn, jumping in when you're actually singing really well and overpowering your voice with her voice, or god forbid, turn off your selection mid-way, then you could say:
"너 노래 정말 골때리게 부른다." (I feel as if I've been hit in the head by your singing.)
 This time, her manners were not what you were expecting, and you are offended by it. You would say it with a straight face, and with no trace of smile. She would still be offended, but hopefully upon reflection, she will understand that she's behaved badly with you.

While it's a subtle phrase to completely understand, it is also pretty versatile. Even the same sentences can have a completely different effect on people depending on how you say it (notice that even though I gave you four examples, same sentences were spoken twice.) And this is very common in Korean. Depending on your nuance, the same sentence could be the highest compliment, or the worst insult.

In general, however, I would refrain from using this phrase with elders, although they should know it (it's one of my dad's favourite phrases!) It doesn't feel right to me, and I don't see myself ever using it in front of my dad. I guess if we were both severely offended by the same person in the same situation, maybe I could try to make my dad feel better by bad-mouthing that person to my dad by saying
"저사람 정말 골때리네." (I feel as if I've been hit in the head by that person; That person is ridiculous.)
But so far, this situation hasn't happened yet.

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

#69. The vixen sister (Shamanism 4)

In continuation of last week's story, I continue with yet another story about a vixen.

In the Western folklore, the fox is often seen to be of neutral gender -- by this, I mean that when a fox appears in a story, unless explicitly told of its gender, there is no reason to assume that the fox is either male or female.

However, in the Korean folklore, you almost always assume that if a fox appears in a story, then it is female (hence my translation as a "vixen" rather than a "fox" -- both are just called "여우" in Korean.) They have magical powers (mostly used for hiding their real identities), are malicious, and -- just like the Western foxes -- sly. Combining these two facts, it is no coincidence that Koreans often call the women who try to manipulate others using their femininity "여우." For example, the Koreans may badmouth the women who suddenly become full of 애교 (aegyo) in front of men by saying:
걔는 정말 남자들 앞에서는 여우야 (She is such a vixen in front of the other men).
 While this seems like a simple comparison between these women and what is considered the most sly of the animals, even this simple phrase is deeply rooted in this well-known Korean folklore, often referred to as "여우누이전" ("누이" is an old Korean word for "sister (both older and younger)" and "전" just means "folklore.")

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 Once upon a time, there lived a husband and wife, who had three sons from their marriage. However, they longed for a daughter, and they prayed to their god for a daughter daily. It seemed that their wish was not granted, as the wife did not seem to become pregnant. In their frustration, the couple said, "If only we could have a daughter, we wouldn't even mind if our three sons were dead."

If you've traveled around the Korean countryside, you may have seen a tree with a lot of colourful cloths tied to it along with a small temple. This means that the area is sacred in the Korean shamanism. Back in the day, most villages had one of these, called "서낭당," and this was a place of prayer. If you acted disrespectfully, you would have gotten punished by the local gods, and the children were forbidden to play in the sacred place.

Their god, upon hearing this, became enraged at their blatant disregard for their sons' lives. So he cursed the couple, although he allowed the wife to be pregnant with a daughter.

After the daughter was born, the household animals mysteriously dying off one by one. The couple, worried, asked their eldest son to investigate the cause, by standing watch over the animals one night. While the eldest son was dozing off in the stables, he was woken by the sound of footsteps. When he looked up, he saw that his younger sister had snuck into the stables, and had killed one of the horses. She opened up the horse, took out its liver, ate it raw, and disappeared.

Shocked and shaken, the eldest son went directly to his parents and told them about his sister. His parents, who had taken to doting on their daughter, were enraged at this story and bade the eldest brother to leave their home.

The animals continued to die off, and the second and the youngest sons were also met with the same fate as the oldest son.

The three brothers spent the next few years under the protection of a Buddhist monk ("중" in Korean), who fed and clothed them, and also taught them many things. All this time, the brothers were worried sick about having left their parents alone with their sister. They eventually decided to go back home to see how things were.

The Buddhist monk, fearing for the sons' safety, gave each of them a small 호리병 (these were made by scraping out the inside of a gourd -- a type of a pumpkin -- and drying them out, or they were made to resemble the shape). The eldest's 호리병 was yellow, the middle brother's blue, and the youngest's red. The monk told the brothers to throw the 호리병 in case of danger.

This is a 호리병. As an aside, have you ever heard people describe someone as having a "호리병 몸매?"
When the three brothers went home, they were astonished to see that only an abandoned house stood where their old house used to be. As they stood, thunderstruck, their sister came out from the abandoned house and greeted the brothers in tears. When they asked where their parents and servants were, the sister responded that they all died from illness.

A page from a Korean book depicting this story, where the sister (who clearly doesn't look right) is rushing out to greet the brothers.

Sensing danger, the brothers said, "Dear sister, we have come a long way and we are very hungry. Do you think you could find some food for us to eat?"

When the sister went into the kitchen to prepare food, the three brothers took flight. However, the sister had immediately realized that they were running away, and chased them at an unbelievable speed.

Terrified, the eldest son threw his yellow 호리병 between himself and the chasing sister. Immediately, an endless expanse of thorned hedges appeared between the brothers and the sister, and the brothers were able to put some distance between them.

However, the sister soon caught up with them again, and this time, the middle brother threw his blue 호리병. This time, an ocean appeared between the brothers and the sister, but the sister overcame that in time too.

A page from yet another Korean storybook telling the story of 여우누이.

Finally, terrified and fearing for their lives, the youngest brother threw his red 호리병. Immediately, huge flames engulfed the sister in pursuit. She was burned to death, and the flames disappeared.

In the place where the sister's body should have been was the scorched body of a vixen. In hearing the couple's unreasonable prayer for a daughter, they had angered the gods, who had given them a vixen child instead of a real daughter, who then proceeded to ruin the entire family.

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 So, vixens were sly beings that misled the people around them to hide their real identities. I am aware that the foxes are rarely portrayed as protagonists in the Western folklore; however, in the Korean folklore, the foxes, or rather, the vixens, were downright evil. The way to defeat them was first and foremost to be vigilant, so that you are not caught unawares, and to hope for a little bit of divine intervention (in both stories of the vixens that I've presented, they appear in the form of a Buddhist monk!) After all, the foxes are not particularly powerful, so you just have to be not tricked.

I do, however, wonder why the foxes in the Korean folklore are almost always women. No doubt this negative portrayal has somehow contributed to the Korean sexism, which often sees women as sly, two-faced beings (we do this sometimes in the Western culture too, but Koreans are much worse at this.) My guess is that among the animals familiar to the Korean terrains, there was the natural choice for the most powerful animal -- the tiger, who are almost always portrayed as being masculine (on the other hand, bears or wolves were also common in Korea, and they are fairly neutral in gender).

For what it's worth, tigers are often portrayed as antagonists too -- the powerful yet stupid kind. Sexism much? (To be continued in the next installation!)

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

#68. 핑거프린세스 -- Can't you do it yourself?

I will admit that most of my time on the Korean internet is actually spent on mostly male-dominated sites. I'm not really sure why; I just find the blunt humour that is characteristic of the male-dominated websites a lot funnier than the female-dominated ones. As a result, a large number of slang that I have covered in this blog are used more frequently by men than women (Also, many women's websites are login only, where you are only accepted as a user if you can prove that you're female, so accessibility is sometimes an issue.)

That doesn't mean that I don't spend any time on the female-dominated websites. And these websites often have their own slang.

"핑거프린세스" is one of such slang, used almost exclusively by women. This word is broken up into two parts like many Korean slang, as "핑거" and "프린세스." Both words are English; "핑거" is "finger," and "프린세스" is "princess."

A: 나 내일 남자친구랑 롯데월드에 놀러가는데, 날씨가 좋을까? (I'm going to Lotte World with my boyfriend, do you think it will be nice tomorrow?)
B: 좋겠네. 잘 놀고 와! (You must be excitd, have fun!)
A: 날씨가 좋아야 잘 놀텐데. 너 내일 날씨 어떤지 알아? (I can't have fun if it's not nice out. Do you know the weather tomorrow?)
B: (핸드폰에 검색후) 내일 날씨 좋다네.  (Searching on phone Apparently it will be nice tomorrow.)
A: 다행이다. 근데 롯데월드에 지하철타고갈건데 혹시 몇호선을 타야 가는지 알아? (That's good. By the way, I'm going there by subway. Do you know what line goes there?)
B: 잘 모르겠는데. (I'm not sure.)
A: 나 지하철 자주 안타서 걱정되는데, 혹시 좀 알아봐줄수있어? (I'm really nervous because I don't take subways often. Do you think you could find out the directions for me?)
B: 야, 핑거프린세스짓 그만하고 니가 직접 검색해봐. (Hey, stop being a finger princess and look it up yourself.)

Knowing the meaning of each part, and a context in which this word might be used, can you guess what it means?

I sometimes link my 핑프 friends to this website.


"핑거프린세스," "핑프" for short, means that the person in question is such a princess in the fingers that they refuse to search the internet for themselves. These are the people who ask very straightforward questions (usually online) whose answers can be found out by a very quick Google search.

Here are some more examples of how to use this word in context:

The girl from the above example might see her boyfriend the next day on her way to Lotte World, and tell him:
"나 어제 핑프라고 욕먹었어." (Yesterday, I was insulted to be a 핑프).
Or, on an internet forum, someone might see this word for the first time, and make a post to ask about its meaning:

Netizen A: "핑프가 뭐에요?" (What dose 핑프 mean?)
Netizen B: "너요." (That would be you.)

Here, "너요" is a very sarcastic reply, because the first half of this short sentence "너" is an informal denotation of "you," while the second half "요" is formal honorifics. By writing out a sentence in informal speech except the very end, you can give off a very sarcastic vibe, like in the above example. Many websites require its users to use honorifics at all times, so Netizen B is trying to get away with as much non-honorifics as possible, managing to be sarcastic and disrespectful at the same time!

"핑프" is definitely an internet slang known to only the young people of Korea. It came into use not too long ago, I would estimate it to be maybe 3-5 years old. It is fairly popular among the young women, although it is, of course, designed to insult. It seems that some men try to use this as well by calling their male friends "핑거프린스 (finger prince)" but it hasn't caught on so much.