Caveat: 눈 괜찮아?

I tend to allow my HS2B cohort to socialize, in Korean, during class, if they’re working on some task, as last night, when I had them writing an essay. This is because they are all very good students, they all do their work, they are all good at focusing when necessary.
At least half the time, their talking is entirely relevant to the task at hand – ideas for their essays, bouncing grammatical or compositional questions off of each other, etc. I think this is quite useful. Given a task, the class can, to some degree, “teach itself.”
I like the class. The additional consequence is that I get to eavesdrop on Korean teenager conversation.
Mostly, it slips past me when they drift off topic, but sometimes I catch something fairly well.
Yeongseo (a girl) had said something to the effect of “He’s cute when he does that,” in reference to something Hongseop (a boy) was doing. Hongseop is sometimes the butt of good-natured joking, just because of his laconic personality. So this was perhaps an unexpected remark on her part.
Immediately in response to Yeongseo’s comment, Hanseam (another girl) quipped, in mock disbelief, 눈 괜찮아? ([nun kwaenhchana?] = are your eyes ok?). This is typical teenage sniping, but it was incredibly humorous in the context. And for whatever reason, I started laughing, which caused Hansaem some embarrassment realizing I was eavesdropping on the conversation.


This morning, I cancelled my hospital appointment, because this cold/flu I have is quite bad, and I don’t really want to have to lie there while they poke around in my mouth when I have a sore throat, congestion, cough, etc.
[daily log: walking, 10km]

Caveat: 눈은 풍년 입은 흉년

Here is a proverb from my book of Korean proverbs.

눈은 풍년 입은 흉년
nun.eun pung.nyeon ib.eun hyung.nyeon
eye-TOPIC abundant-harvest-year mouth-TOPIC famine-year
“Feast for the eyes, famine for the stomach.”

This has a pretty clear meaning, I think, although I can’t think of an exact English equivalent at the moment. Basically, it’s the feeling I have all the time, since my surgery: I see delicious food all around me, and I remember feasting on such deliciousnesses, but the actual experience of eating is at best neutral, and at worst occasionally downright unpleasant. It has become a new normal, and so in my best moments, I can let the nostalgia of eating things I enjoy drive the current experience.
I wasn’t really meaning to complain, here, but running across this proverb seemed to rather match my experience. I saw a chicken sandwich in a cafe last night and was struck by an irrational craving, so I bought it and brought it home. The eating of it was … well… I’m still here, right? Mere sustenance.
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: 事事件件

I ran across this four-character idiom somewhere – exactly where, I don’t recall but it’s in my notes.

事事件件
사사건건
sa.sa.geon.geon
work-work-thing-thing

This means “each and every,” but with negative valences.
Usage:

사사건건 트집 = finding fault, blemish, crack
사사건건 간섭하다 = meddling, interference

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]
 

Caveat: 4 – – o

DdongMy student asked me, "Do you know what four minus minus zero is?"

Sensing a joke, I said, "No. What?"

"It's poo," she explained.

"OK," I said. "Can you tell me why?" 

The student came to the whiteboard and drew a diagram. I have attempted to reproduce it at right.

Then I laughed, because now the joke made sense.

You see, the final symbol is basically the Korean hangeul syllable glyph 똥 [ttong (or ddong)], which means "poo" or "shit." 

[daily log: walking, 6.5]

 

Caveat: 空谷足音

I saw this four-character idiom online somewhere – I didn’t record from where.

空谷足音
공곡족음
gong.gok.jok.eum
empty-valley-excessive-sound

This idiom seems to be similar to: Vox clamantis in deserto! “A voice in the wilderness.”

1 Iɴɪᴛɪᴜᴍ Eᴠᴀɴɢᴇʟɪɪ Jᴇsᴜ Cʜʀɪsᴛɪ, Fɪʟɪɪ Dᴇɪ. 2 Sɪᴄᴜᴛ sᴄʀɪᴘᴛᴜᴍ ᴇsᴛ ɪɴ Isᴀɪᴀ ᴘʀᴏᴘʜᴇᴛᴀ: Eᴄᴄᴇ ᴇɢᴏ ᴍɪᴛᴛᴏ ᴀɴɢᴇʟᴜᴍ ᴍᴇᴜᴍ ᴀɴᴛᴇ ғᴀᴄɪᴇᴍ ᴛᴜᴀᴍ, ǫᴜɪ ᴘʀæᴘᴀʀᴀʙɪᴛ ᴠɪᴀᴍ ᴛᴜᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴛᴇ ᴛᴇ. 3 Vᴏx ᴄʟᴀᴍᴀɴᴛɪs ɪɴ ᴅᴇsᴇʀᴛᴏ: Pᴀʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴠɪᴀᴍ Dᴏᴍɪɴɪ, ʀᴇᴄᴛᴀs ғᴀᴄɪᴛᴇ sᴇᴍɪᴛᴀs ᴇᴊᴜs. (Vulgate)

1 The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God; 2 As it is written in the prophets, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee. 3 The voice of one crying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. (KJV)

But the Christian/Western allusion is to prophecy, while the Chinese seems to mean one of two things, neither of which is quite the same. First, it might mean a pointless exercise of proclaiming when no one is paying attention. Alternately, it might mean the way that deserted place becomes more welcoming when a sound is heard. Regardless, I don’t think it’s directly relatable to the notion of prophecy… I guess it comes down to one’s opinion regarding the efficacy of prophecy.
There is also the text by John Gower, a Latin-language poem written in the 14th century, bearing the title “Vox Clamantis.”
[daily log: walking, 1km]
 

Caveat: 文過飾非

I saw this four-character idiom in my building’s elevator the other day. It was really hard to figure out a meaning for it – my online search and linguistic skills are either declining or this was an exceptionally difficult and rare one.

文過飾非
문과식비
mun.gwa.sik.bi

Breaking down the individual hanja:

文 문 = 글월 letter, writing, sentence
過 과 = 지날 fut-part pass, elapse, spend [time]
飾 식 = 꾸밀 fut-part ornament, fabricate, affect, make, embellish
非 비 = 아닐 fut-part not be

Maybe literally, then, something like “[despite time] spent writing, [there is] no embellished effect” (?).
I searched a lot for a translation, and found nothing. I was having too much difficulty translating the one Korean definition I found. I tried a trick that sometimes works for these four-character idioms: you can put the idiom into googletranslate as Chinese instead of Korean. In this case, the meaning seems clear: “to pay lip service to.” I am not certain that the Korean usage of the idiom retains exactly the same meaning, but the Korean meaning given at naver’s dictionary is:

허물도 꾸미고 잘못도 꾸민다는 뜻으로,  잘못이 있음에도 불구(不拘)하고 뉘우침도 없이 숨길 뿐 아니라 도리어 외면하고 도리어 잘난 체함

It was taking me too long to try to figure out an idiomatic translation for this definition, but the gist seems to be in vein of “it is a mistake to try to hide ideas through embellishment, etc.” I’m not really confident, but it seems to semantically connect enough to the direct translation of the Chinese as to make me think that meaning applies to the Korean usage as well.
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: 시체노리

My coworker taught me this expression, in the context of my trying to explain what I had done over the weekend. “I did basically nothing,” I had said. “I was a zombie.”
She found this expression somewhat funny, and offered the Korean equivalent: “시체노리 했다” [si.che.no.ri haet.da]. The meaning, roughly, is “[I] played at being a corpse,” but apparently it can be used just as I used the “I was a zombie” expression, or other colloquialisms for doing nothing, like “I was basically dead.”
Not much else to say.
[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: happy to just fall down

The Korean TV news is full of bits on the North Koreans' Party Congress, the first in 36 years. KJU is consolidating his power, repossessing the military, and showing savvier leadership than had been expected, it appears. Not that that's a good thing. 

 Perhaps relatedly, what I'm listening to right now.

Communist Daughter, "Not the Kid."

Lyrics.

When we were younger
we had nothing to do
so we'd close our eyes
and spin around in circles
happy to hit the ground
or happy to just fall down

When we were younger
we'd go down to the park
we'd catch all the fireflies
we'd put 'em in jars
we never knew that they'd die
we never really thought that far

I'm not the kid you knew
im not the kid you remember

When we were younger
we were scared of the dark
so we closed our eyes
we pulled the sheets over our heads
we didn't want to see what's there
like the shadows under the bed

And now that I'm older
I look back on those days
I wish I had them back
cuz the shadows are gone
or at least they're not that strong
as the shadows in my head

I'm not the kid you knew
I'm not the kid you remember

I'm not the kid you knew
I'm not the kid you remember

In 1985
well there was a picture taken with my name on it
climbin' an apple tree with blue shoes
You'd think it was me
I could swear it was you

I'm not the kid you knew
i'm not the kid you remember

I'm not the kid you knew
i'm not the kid you remember

I'm not the kid you knew
i'm not the kid you remember

I'm not the kid you knew
i'm not the kid you remember

Notes for Korean (finding meaning)

  • 병진 = advancing side-by-side – this is the label for the new, not-military-first policy initiative by NK's KJU

[daily log: walking, 1km]

 

Caveat: 노답

There is a bit of slang making the rounds with my students, that was interesting. 노답 [no-dap] means “no answer” – i.e. it’s used to express a kind of ironic or semi-ironic “no comment” or “I don’t want to dignify that with a response.”
But like a lot of Korean slang lately, it mixes English and Korean. The first syllable is English “no” while the second, 답, is Korean to mean “answer.”
I don’t really have much to say about this – just wanted to record the cultural observation, given its potential ephemerality. Also, I don’t have anything else to say today – the test-prep time has ended, and I’ve returned to my normal busier teaching schedule.
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: 雷逢電別

I learned this four-character idiom from my elevator last night.

雷逢電別
뇌봉전별
noe.bong.jeon.byeol
thunder-meet-lightning-split
“Thunder meets, lightening splits”

I found this definition of the verbalized form of the idiom (i.e. 뇌봉전별하다):
(비유적으로) 잠깐 만났다가 곧 헤어지다. 천둥같이 만났다가 번개같이 헤어진다는 뜻에서 나온 말이다.
I tried to makes sense of this definition, but I’m not very happy with my effort.:
“(Figuratively) Although a moment is met, it soon divides. The saying comes out meaning that although thunder meets, lightning divides up.”
I guess this would refer to the philosophical conundrum of the ephemerality of the “present.”
“Time is not composed of indivisible nows any more than any other magnitude is composed of indivisibles.” – Aristotle. Physics VI
[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 산토끼를 잡으려다가 집토끼를 놓친다

I learned this aphorism from my friend’s blog.

산토끼를 잡으려다가 집토끼를 놓친다
san.to.kki.reul jap.eu.ryeo.da.ga jip.to.kki.reul noh.chin.da
wild-hare-OBJ catch-PURPOSIVE/TRANSFERATIVE tame-rabbit-OBJ miss-PRES

This means, “Losing rabbits at home while running after hares in the mountains.” My friend Peter points to Korea Times senior editorialist Choi Sung-jin having used the expression in translation, commenting on the opposition party’s strategy – prior to the election. Thus the translation is due to that editorialist. The phrase could also apply to other misguided business strategies, I think. I need to remember it for the next time I feel annoyed in a work-meeting.
In retrospect, I think this was not the right sort of aphorism to quote, given the opposition’s surprising electoral upset. It turned out the wild hare made a better meal.
[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 閑雲野鶴

This is a four-character idiom I learned from my building’s elevator the other day.

閑雲野鶴
한운야학
han.un.ya.hak
leisure-cloud-field-crane

The meaning in the Korean-English dictionary is given as only, “wandering clouds and wild cranes,” but the example use of the expression gives a clue: 한운 야학 야학을 벗삼다 lead a leisurely life/lead a life free from worldly care in the bosom of nature. I found the following definition in Korean, online, which I laboriously translated.

한가로운 구름 아래 노니는 들의 학. 벼슬과 어지러운 세상을 버리고 강호에 묻혀 사는 사람.
Cranes wandering fields under peaceful skies. People who abandon official posts and chaotic society to take refuge in nature.

So I guess it means people who “escape” society in some way, but it is not clear to me if this viewed positively or negatively by the expression. Sometimes it seems I might do that. Or it seems I might already have tried that – but unsuccessfully.


What I’m listening to right now.

The Cure, “Splintered In Her Head.” I’m not sure this is related to the idiom.
[daily log: walking, 1km]
 

Caveat: 太古順民

I learned this four-character idiom from my elevator.

太古順民
태고순민
tae.go.sun.min
ancient-times-gentle-people
“In the old days people [were] gentle.”

I’m not sure the expression is that useful, at least for me – unless there’s an element of irony or some historical reference that makes it more complex than it seems.
It seems to encapsulate the extremely common misconception people tend to have, that times are always getting worse, and that civilization is in a state of decline. Why people believe this seems to be a fundamental quirk of human psychology, which perceives current problems as being more severe than past problems, and which then extends this misperception to the scope of human history. It doesn’t even matter how old you are. I have heard 3rd grade elementary kids heave heavy sighs and say things to the effect of, “it was so much better in the old times [meaning 2nd grade].”
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: 나는 이 지상에 잠시 천막을 친 자

나는 이 지상에 잠시 천막을 친 자
초원의 꽃처럼 남김없이 피고 지고
자신을 다 사르며 온전히 살아가기를

– 박노해 (한국어 시인, 1957년 ~ )

One who pitched his tent upon this Earth for but a moment am I.
Like a flower in a meadow, earnestly blooming,
Utterly destroyed that others might make their way in life.

– Park, No-hae (Korean poet, b. 1957)

My friend Peter posted this unnamed poem on his blog, and provided his own translation for it, since none was to be found.
[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: On Frogs, Thunderstorms and Awakening Insects

Last Saturday morning, my friend Peter sent me a message saying that the day was 경칩 [gyeongchip]. As is usually the case when I hear about a previously-unencountered Korean "holiday," this turned out to be part of the old Chinese solar calendar. Gyeongchip is one of the 24 "solar terms," when hibernating insects are awakened. But somehow, a frog is involved, too. I'm not clear on the details, although its is likely that awakened insects might be good news for frogs.

The insects are awakened by thunderstorms. Naturally, as I left work on Saturday, there was a thundestorm. It was quite intense. I can imagine all the insects woke up. 

JingzheThe picture at right is just sourced on a rather meandering web-search, found at the KOCIS site (Korean Culture and Information Service). Note the characters in the upper-right: 驚蟄. These are "jingzhe" i.e. gyeongchip. 

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: 십일번 타고가다

I learned this idiom from a coworker.

십일번 타고가다
sip.il.beon ta.go.ga.da
eleven-number ride-and-go
…take the number eleven [bus route].

Literally, it means “take the number 11 bus route.” But the number 11 bus route is a metaphor for walking. Why? The digits “11” resemble two legs, I guess. I think this an idiom I can find much use for, given how much I walk as opposed to other forms of transportation. I like when I learn such useful things to say. Although who knows when I might actually find myself saying it – the next time someone offers me a ride that I turn down, I suppose.
[daily log: riding the number 11, 6.5km]

Caveat: 求之不得

I learned this four-character idiom from my building’s elevator last night. I might learn more idioms if I took the elevator more often. But I would get less exercise. And there are other places to find four-character idioms.

求之不得
구지부득
gu.ji.bu.deuk
seek-go-not-get

This was hard to figure out the meaning. I’m not totally confident. There is no entry for the idiom in the Korean-English online dictionary, but the Korean-only dictionary gives (for the verbalized form, 구지부득하다): “구하려고 해도 얻지 못 하다,” which the googletranslate renders “Even trying to save is not obtained.” That’s not that helpful on seeing the meaning. I had better luck googling it as if it were Chinese. In an online Chinese-English dictionary, I found it is an idiom meaning “to be exactly what one has been looking for.” I could kind of see that, but it’s not clear to me that the Korean usage has the same meaning, or if the Korean usage is more negative, which would be more simply, to try to find but fail to find something.
In which case, I tried to find the exact meaning of this idiom, but failed.
[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 더불어…

I was walking to work this morning, and noticed the political banners at the big intersection of Gobong and Jungang. I guess it’s not just political season in the US, but here too?
2016-02-06 민주당
I tried to make sense of the 민주당 (Democratic Party) banner as I waited for the traffic light to change so I could cross the street. It said,

더불어민주당
deo.bul.eo min.ju.dang
[come] along with the Democratic Party

The dictionary gives “throw your lot in with…” as a gloss for 더불어 but that has a bit too much of a negative connotation (as in, just give up and throw your lot in with) in my mind to serve as a good translation of a political slogan, so I preferred to try to read it as “come along with.”
The Democratic Party is the slightly more leftward of Korea’s two parties – I was standing under the banner of their opposites, the more right-wing 새누리당 [sae.nu.ri.dang = “New Frontier Party”], who currently control the presidency through the dictator’s daughter. I don’t think it’s quite time to elect a president (that will be next year), but I think there are local elections and maybe parliamentary ones, coming up.
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]
 
 
 

Caveat: 桑田碧海

I learned this four-character aphorism from my friend Seungbae on Saturday.

桑田碧海
상전벽해
sang.jeon.byeok.hae
silkworm-orchard-blue-sea
“[Like a] silkworm orchard [becoming] blue sea”

This indicates a situation of intense, complete change – as if a silkworm orchard is tranformed into blue sea. It came up in the context of discussing the fact that, because I was stationed near to my current home when I was in the US Army in 1991, I had seen Ilsan back when it was a small village amid rice fields, and now it has become a high-density connurbation of half a million. Seungbae used this phrase to describe that kind of transformation.
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: 머리를 깎다

This is an idiom from my book of idioms.

머리를 깎다
meo.ri.reul kkakk.da
head-OBJ shave
“to shave one’s head.”

It means to join the Buddhist priesthood – since priests shave their heads. It is used as a kind of “when all else fails…” option, to express despair, maybe: e.g. “Well, when all else fails, I can always go join a monastery.”
This thought has a more than passing appeal for me – I have harbored it many times, long before learning the idiom.
[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: The Gangnam Yangachi Army

I was joking around with my HS3M cohort on Wednesday night. I try so hard to get along with those boys, but it remains a difficult class. 

They were trying to teach me the Korean slang term 양아치 [yang.a.chi]. It's hard to translate. The official dictionary translation is useless, as it says "ragpicker." I told my students that that might have meant something to my great-grandparents' generation, but it means nothing to me.

During class, I got the idea it might mean something like "slacker," but in researching it online (in various Korean-English slang dictionaries that people post on their blogs), I've decided it might be more faithfully reflected by something like "punk" or "thug." But as such, it's a "poser punk" or "poser thug" – not the real thing. These are the "wannabe bad-boy" clique in school, maybe.

Anyway, after they'd tried to teach me the meaning, they said there were a lot of Yangachi in Gangnam (a kind of high-status area of Seoul). Jinu said there was a whole Gangnam Yangachi Army. I said that sounded alarming, but added that it would be a good name for a rock band. The boys rather liked this idea, and riffed on it for a while. 


I'm going back to work today after my post-op rest yesterday. The pain is pretty bad, but I guess trying to function normally is the best distraction. 

[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 후회없이 꿈을 꾸었다 말해요

우리의 원장님은 나에게 이 노래를 보내셨어요. 아직 이해가 잘 못해서 노력할게요.

내가 지금 듣고있어요.

이적, "걱정말아요 그대."

가사

그대여 아무 걱정 하지 말아요
우리 함께 노래 합시다
그대 아픈 기억들 모두 그대여
그대 감슴에 깊이 묻어 버리고

지나간 것은 지나간 대로
그런 의미가 있죠
떠난 이에게 노래 하세요
후회없이 사랑했노라 말해요

그대는 너무 힘든 일이 많았죠
새로움을 잃어 버렸죠
그대 힘든 얘기들 모두 그대여
그대 탓으로 훌훌 털어 버리고

지나간 것은 지나간 대로
그런 의미가 있죠
우리 다 함께 노래 합시다
후회없이 꿈을 꾸었다 말해요

지나간 것은 지나간 대로
그런 의미가 있죠
우리 다 함께 노래 합시다
후회없이 꿈을 꾸었다 말해요

지나간 것은 지나간 대로
그런 의미가 있죠
우리 다 함께 노래 합시다
후회없이 꿈을 꾸었다 말해요
새로운 꿈을 꾸겠다 말해요

[daily log: resting]

Caveat: Hypothetical vowel shifts, just because…

It’s hard for me not to think about linguistics, sometimes.
As I was walking to work the other day, I had this strange thought: I wondered if, historically, the Korean language ever under went a major vowel shift – of the same sort that is somewhat well-known with respect to English. I think I was set off on this train of thought by noticing that, although Korean is for the most part rather punctillious about its many vowels and their correct articulation, there is definitely a degree of movement taking place in the Seoul dialect, which is noticeable in, for example, my students’ “playful” spellings of phrases like 안녕 [annyeong = “hi”] as 안뇽 [annyong] in their notes or text messages to me. The sound 어 /ə/ is definitely moving backward in casual speech, toward 오/o/.
Further evidence lies in the fact that although the consonantal system of the hangeul writing system is quite reliably systematic, the vowel system has always struck me is a bit “off” – it doesn’t seem quite as systematic as it could have been (i.e. why are some vowels written under and some vowels written to the right, and where’s the original logic behind the design, given there is consensus that it was designed?). Of course, it is well known that the “offness” of English spelling is, itself, a consequence of that famous vowel shift. So maybe the cause of the “offness” in the Korean vowel system lies in the same sort of phenomenon.
So when I got to work, I typed “vowel shift korean” into my google search-o-matic, and sure enough, my thought wasn’t a novel one. Indeed, there is a still not entirely settled but well-defended hypothesis that Korean underwent a major vowel shift, roughly during the same historical period as the English one. Mentions of it in English can be found online (mostly in googlebooks, rather than on blogs or webpages).
Thus, it is mentioned (and supported) in Samual Martin’s (he of the giant Korean Reference grammar with its despised Yale-ification) book, Consonant Lenition in Korean and the Macro-Altaic Question, somewhat browseable on googlebooks. The best explanation of the idea that I found, with some charts of the actual shift, is in a PDF by Oh Sang-suk. Meanwhile, I found a refutation of it in a PDF by Young-Key Kim-Renaud.
Personally, I find the idea appealing, and the arguments in favor of it that I ran across struck me as compelling. I am not an expert, however – so who knows?
picture[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 能小能大

I learned this four-character idiom from my elevator last night.

能小能大
능소능대
neung.so.neung.dae
skill-small-skill-big

This apparently means something like “versitile” or “skillful” or even “tactful and socially competent.” At first I was thinking it was something like “Jack of all trades” but I don’t think that’s quite right – it seems to be used mostly adjectivally, and the meaning seems more connected to the idea of someone who has competence in “big things” but also pays attention to detail. Maybe it’s more like “well-rounded” (as applied to a personality).
I felt pleased with my decipherment of this idiom, for two reasons. First, like many of these “either/or” idioms (where one of the elements is repeated with two different modifiers), the first and second terms seem interchangeable. Thus, the version I actually saw in my elevator last night was “능대능소” yet the one in the online dictionary was the one I cite above. So I figured it out. Further, this is the first case where I already had some clue as to the meaning just because I am familiar with all the individual components from other vocabulary. So it felt like a step forward in that respect.
Notes for Korean (finding meaning)

  • 방사선 괴사 = radiation necrosis
  • 시궁쥐 = rat, literally “sewer mouse”
  • 능하다 = to be proficient, to be skillful, to be expert (at something)

picture[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 同苦同樂

I’m not sure what the difference is between an aphorism and an idiom – I have a book of aphorisms and a book of idioms, but a lot of what they have is the same.
I found this four-character idiom in my book of idioms.

同苦同樂
동고동락
dong.go.dong.rak
together-bitter-together-enjoy

This might be equivalent to something like the English aphorism, “Stick together through thick and thin.” My intuition is that this idiom would be used in the same context as discussions of 정 [jeong] (which I’ve discussed in detail before on this blog).
There was another interesting thing that made me laugh about this idiom: when you paste it into googletranslate, and accept its intention to translate from Chinese, it tells you that the English meaning is “Fun with pain.” This is accurate, but the English has an agential ambiguity that the Chinese lacks, I think – is it pain mixed with fun, or are we having fun with pain? If the latter, that’s more of a motto for a BDSM club than an aphorism for the thick and thin of life.
Apropos, I was thinking about jeong the other day when things got so bad at work. I wanted to turn to Curt and say verbatim what he had said to me those years ago: “you have no jeong.” I resisted that urge. But I definitely was thinking, in that moment, that his actions had been weirdly “jeongless” (I say “weirdly” since, presumeably, as a Korean, he has lots of jeong). I wonder just how one might accuse another of jeonglessness, idiomatically, in Korean. It’s a commonly-enough expressed sentiment, I think. Just a few weeks ago, I had a student complaining to me about the Japanese (I have many students who complain to me about the Japanese – they’re merely echoing the discourses that appear in the Korean media, of course), and she said, “they have no jeong.”
Notes for Korean (finding meaning)

  • 바로 = (adv.) directly, just, straight, promptly, only, precisely… 

picture[daily log: walking back to work after the short holiday, 6km]

Caveat: 自暴自棄

The other day was the first time I ever used a “four character aphorism” appropriately in conversation.
I said to Curt, “한국말을 배우할 수 없으니까 나는 자포자기가 됐어요.” He understood what I meant, so that’s a sign I must have used it more or less correctly. It wasn’t entirely spontaneous – I’d been pre-composing some sentences involving the idiom, and suddenly the context made one of the sentences I’d worked out appropriate.
Roughly, this means “Because of being unable to learn Korean, I feel despair.”
The four character idiom is:

自暴自棄
자포자기
ja.po.ja.gi
self-furious-self-abandon
“despair”


I made some kimchi fried rice today, because I received a large amount of home-made kimchi from a co-worker, and some years ago, I used to make dish quite often. I stopped making it, because it hasn’t been so easy to eat since my surgery, but sometimes I crave things I used to eat, even though it rarely is very rewarding to actually eat them. It ends up being a kind of eating-for-nostalgia.
Notes for Korean (finding meaning)

  • 까맣다 = to be black, to be dark-colored; to be far away (I  think, also, to be “burnt to a crisp”)
  • 대표 = representation
    so 대표부 = a mission (e.g. to the UN)
    대표단 = a delegation
  • 허락 = consent, approval, assent
    허락하다 = to consent to something, to grant permission, to allow, to permit
  • 방법 = method, way, procedure, means, process

[daily log: walking, 1.5km]

Caveat: 개를 훔치는 완벽한 방법

DogI was surfing around on the TV last night and watched this movie. It’s in Korean, and on broadcast television, of course, there are no subtitles. So when I undertake to watch a Korean movie on TV it’s more than just an idle undertaking. It’s work to understand. This movie is the sort that is easiest for me to make sense of, I think – family comedies. The reason why probably has to do with the prevalance of simple, day-to-day vocabulary, often stripped of the complex verb periphrastics that populate higher discourse. Perhaps this movie, with the child protagonists, was accessible because I find kids easier to understand, too. This may be because in fact, most of my Korean practice is with kids – i.e. my students.
It was a cute movie. It turns out to be based on an English-language kids lit book. The real mystery is why, of the three wikipedia articles about the movie that are available, besides Korean and English (both logical), the third is in Armenian. What’s that all about?
Notes for Korean (finding meaning)

  • 뭄추다 = to stop (doing something)
  • 하던 일 = “that thing [I/he/she/someone] was doing” … I’m not sure about this, because it’s a grammatical construction using -던 which is called a “retrospective modifier” (whatever that is) and a derivation of the verb+object periphrastic 일 하다 which seems to mean “to do some nonspecific thing” or “to work on something”

[daily log: walking, 1km]

Caveat: Some People Just Can’t Learn a Language

The other day, for an 11-hour work day, because I attended a "training" meeting for some new teaching software the Karma is investing in (called "Cappytown").

When I went back to review my notes just now, I found this written in the margin: "Sitting in this kind of meeting makes me want to quit my job."

Indeed, it was one of the most frustrating moments I've had in recent work experience, because, of course, the training, and all the software's administration documentation and online management framework is in Korean. There is nothing at all wrong with that – this is Korea, after all. But it hammers home to me just how inadequate my Korean language skill is, how little it seems to be progressing, and how utterly useless I am, outside the classroom, at my current job.

I guess, fortunately, I am considered to be valuable in the classroom. Nevertheless, it makes problematic my desire to be a true member of my workplace team, and it also is a grim reminder that for all my enthusiasm as a language teacher and as a lifelong observer of languages (i.e. as a linguist, by training and avocationally) am an utter failure as a language-learner, in this Korean incarnation.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: NASA휴먼어드벤처展

Nasa-sign-1The other day I saw this banner hanging from a pedestrian bridge (picture at right). It was linguistically interesting to me because it does something I have almost never seen in Korea – it combines “konglish” and “hanja” in a single phrase. Both “konglish” (English vocabulary adopted into Korean and written in the Korean alphabet) and “hanja” (Chinese vocabulary adopted into Korean but still written using Chinese characters) are quite common in Korean, which is a voracious borrower of words. It’s one of the things that fascinates me about the language.
Nevertheless, it’s very rare to see konglish and hanja in the same sentence – in this case, in a single compound noun. NASA, of course, is NASA. 휴먼어드벤처 [hu.meon.eo.deu.ben.cheo] is “human adventure.” And then the trailing hanja is 展 [전=jeon], and means “exhibition.” So the entire title is: NASA Human Adventure Exhibition. But it uses 3 different writing systems. It’s for a show at the local giant convention center, Kintex.
[daily log: walking, 6.5km]
 

Caveat: 아름다운 서울을 사랑하리라

There is some very cheesy Korean 80s music. There is a genre called “트로트” (“Trot”) which, although not stylistically similar, fulfills the same cultural function as Country & Western in the US, or maybe Norteño in Mexico. The below is kind of a crossover between Trot and Pop, I guess.
What I’m listening to right now.

이용, “서울.”
가사

종로에는 사과나무를 심어보자
그길에서 꿈을 꾸며 걸어가리라
을지로에는 감나무를 심어보자
감이 익을 무렵 사랑도 익어가리라

아아아아 우리의 서울 우리의 서울
거리마다 푸른 꿈이 넘쳐흐르는
아름다운 서울을 사랑하리라

빌딩마다 온갖 새들을 오게하자
지저귀는 노래소리 들어보리라
거리거리엔 예쁜 꽃을 피게하자
꽃이 피어나듯 사랑도 피어나리라

아아아아 우리의 서울 우리의 서울
거리마다 푸른 꿈이 넘쳐흐르는
아름다운 서을을 사랑하리라

아아아아 우리의 서울 우리의 서울
거리마다 푸른 꿈이 넘쳐흐르는
아름다운 서울을 사랑하리라

[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 뒤로 호박씨 까다

I found this idiom in my Korean idiom book.

뒤로 호박씨 까다
dwi.ro ho.bak.ssi kka.da
behind-MEANS pumpkin-seed crack
Crack pumpkin seeds with your behind.

I thought this was an interesting idea, because in figuring it out, I learned that the Korean word 뒤, which means “behind,” can also mean “behind” in the English idiomatic sense of ass. Thus this is, “to crack pumpkin seeds with your ass.”
What it means, apparently, is to appear innocent but to be carrying out nefarious deeds in secret. I guess to the extent that cracking pumpkin seeds with one’s ass is nefarious, that makes sense, as it would be hard to tell just looking at someone that they were doing that.
[daily log: walking, 6km]

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