Caveat: 취중에 진담 나온다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

취중에 진담 나온다

chwi.jung.e jin.dam na.on.da

drunkenness-OUTOF solemnity(truth) come-PRES

Truth comes out of a drunk man.

“Truth in wine.” This is such an important part of Korean culture, it would be difficult to overstate it, really. Several times a week one or another of my colleagues either expresses a need to get drunk or else suggests to me that doing so would solve some element of my own difficulties. When pressed, they always fall back on the concept expressed in this aphorism – that only by drinking can we express our true selves. This is because of the strength of the cultural repression in the society, I guess, that the only way to be honest with one another is through alcohol. Maybe there’s something to it – I don’t know. I don’t really judge it so negatively – I only know that I am, as I always have been, a melancholic drunk. For me, personally, a night of drinking inevitably ends in tears. Perhaps that is my core “honesty,” I don’t know. As a consequence, however, I don’t really feel that positive about it, though.

Meanwhile, I should report the results of my consult this morning. I saw both Dr Jo (radiation specialist / diagnostician) and Dr Ryu (oncologist). Dr Jo said the scans were clean, no tumors or lumps or bumps or badnesses. He did make the observation that there appeared to be “more damage and scarring” (from the radiation) in my mouth/throat than he expected. That could possibly explain some of the discomfort I continue experiencing. I talked with Dr Ryu about nerve damage and what’s called “neuropathological” pain – that is, the “ghost” pain from the cut nerves. Of course, it’s “normal” but that doesn’t really solve much. I suppose there is no solution, except to buckle down and cope.

Partly, I suppose my feeling, lately, is more of a psychological problem than a physical one. It seems that after having gone through all that, I should somehow be making more of this “new life” or “borrowed time” than I am. I nearly died. I came through it. Now, I just work and waste time… same as before. Shouldn’t I be doing some important or meaningful with this bonus round, having beat the odds, at least so far? The feeling of guilt – of “wasted chances” and blown opportunities – is very strong, these days.

Unlike my Korean friends, I don’t think a repression of self-honesty is my problem. So in alcohol there is only sorrow, not truth.

CaveatDumpTruck Logo[daily log: walking, 10km]

Caveat: 서울가서 김서방집 찾기

Here is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

서울가서 김서방집 찾기
seo·ul·ga·seo gim·seo·bang·jip chat·gi
Seoul-go-CONJ Kim-mister-house search-GER
[Like…] going to Seoul and searching for Mr Kim's house.

This plays on the ubiquity of the "Kim" family name in Korea. Looking for Mr Kim's house is a futile and aimless search, because there are nothing but Mr Kim houses. It's like finding a needle in a haystack, groping in the dark.

[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 티끌 모아 태 산이다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

티끌     모아         태   산이다
ti·kkeul mo·a        tae  san·i·da
dust     gather-PRES big  mountain-be
Gather enough dust and it is a big mountain.

The word 태 [tae] gave me a moment's difficulty, as there was nothing in the Korean English dictionary(s) to indicate the meaning "big," but that's clearly what it means and I vaguely recalled running across that meaning before. I looked in the hanja dictionary, however, and found it easily – it's that character 太 which means big. So in this proverb, it's a kind sinism, I guess.

My aphorism book gives the charming, Dr Seussian translation of "Many a mickle makes a muckle." I had never heard this English aphorism in my life, so I ended up researching that, too. I guess it's mostly dialectical, limited to north England (Northumbria) and Scotland. It means lots of little things (mickles) add up to a big thing (muckle). Etymologically, however, they both derive from Old Norse, meaning "a big thing," which is odd.

[daily log: walking, 6.5 km]

Caveat: 갈수록 산이다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

갈수록 산이다
gal·su·rok san·i·da
go-THEMORE mountains-be

"The farther [you] go, there are [more] moutains.

This means that matters go from bad to worse: just more mountains. Personally, I rather like the idea of hiking over mountains and finding more, but clearly the meaning here is negative. I am reminded of my uncle's memorable and favorite aphorism – an inversion of a more popular and positive version which he clearly rejected – and which was embedded in my brain by his frequent utterances of it when I was young: "It's always darkest just before it gets completely black."

[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]

Caveat: 제 버릇 개 줄까

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

제            버릇      개   줄까
je            beo·reut gae  jul·kka
one[a person] habit    dog  give-INTERROG

[One] gives one’s habits to a dog.

The meaning is that it is difficult to give up old habits – about as difficult as giving one’s habits away to one’s dog.

Google translate’s version was: “Do you want my spoiled dog.” This is funny.

CaveatDumpTruck Logo[daily log: walking, 1 km]

Caveat: 9 Months Cancer Free

Today is the three-quarters-of-a-year-iversary of my surgery. I know that I "beat the odds" in that I have a mostly normal life: I can talk, I kept my job, etc. I have to remind myself of that when I feel so miserable and depressed, as I have, lately.


I ran across a quote from Shakespeare's Macbeth in a very unexpected place: on page 921 of my Practical Dictionary of Korean-English Buddhist Terms.

Under the term 인생 (人生 [insaeng] = life), the dictionary says:

무엇이 인생? 사전에는 "목숨을 가진 사람의 존재"라 쓰여 있다. 영국의 문호 셰익스피어의 인생관을 들어보는 것도 나쁘지 않을 것 같다.

인생이란 어설픈 형상 없는 그림자
뽐내고 안달하다 곧 사라지는
한낱 가설무대 위의 광대.
– 셰익스피어, "맥베스", 5막 5장 –

Then, the reference book being a bilingual glossary, a translation into English is provided.

Life: What is life? Let's see what Shakespeare says:

Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then heard no more.
– Shakespeare, Macbeth, V, v –

Note that the translation provided does not translate the introductory phrasing word-for-word – the Korean slightly more detailed, saying something to effect that "the dictionary says 'life' is 'existence of people who have breath of life' but England's great writer Shakespeare's summary is not bad."

I have run across other very interesting tidbits of humor and erudition in this book. I'm glad that I bought it. I'm so strange, my favorite books have always been reference books.

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

Caveat: 絶學無憂

I ran across this in my Dictionary of Buddhist Terms.

絶學無憂
절학무우
jeol·hak·mu·u
stop-study-no-worry
Stop studying and be happy.

Somewhat related to “Ignorance is bliss.”

This phrase is apparently from the Tao Te Ching (도덕경 [dodeokgyeong] in Korean). A lot of Taoist aphorisms and concepts were incorporated into Chinese Buddhism, as Buddhism spread into China from India (via the ancient Indo-Greek civilization of the Indus valley and Afghanistan and the Kushan Empire). Hence also they ended up forming a part of the Korean Buddhist heritage. Taoism is not really practiced in Korea separate from those elements that it loaned to Confucianism and Buddhism, but no less an item than the 태극기Korean nationalist flag incorporates Taoist symbolism.

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

Caveat: 남이 떡 먹는데 떡고물 떨어지는 걱정한다

This is an aphorism from my book of aphorisms.

남이 떡 먹는데 떡고물 떨어지는 걱정한다
nam·i tteok meok·neun tteok·go·mul tteol·eo·ji·neun geok·jeong·han·da
other-SUBJ ricecake eat-PRESPART ricecake-powder fall-off-PRESPART worry-PRES
[Like…] Worrying about the powdered covering falling off another person’s cake.

This is to worry about another person’s affairs that have nothing do do with one’s own. People worry too much about other people’s affairs.

vocabulary

고물 = powdered bean or sesame or pea used to coat a sweet rice cake, traditionally eaten as a type of candy.

[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]

Caveat: 아는 길도 물어 가라

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

아는 길도 물어 가라
a·neun gil·do mur·eo ga·ra
know-PPART road-TOO ask-INF go-IMP
Ask too about the known road.

Ask the way, even though you already know it. Seek counsel from more experienced elders.

I’ll try.


We had 회식 (business dinner) after work to say goodbye to long-time Karma employee Gina, whose reliability and friendliness in the staffroom I will miss.

It was 회 (hweh = raw fish i.e. sashimi), which is hard for me for textural reason. I ate a piece of kimchi. It was too spicy, but just the fact of trying to eat it represents progress, of a sort, on the food front.

[daily log: walking, 3 km]

Caveat: 소멸탈출

The song-title “소멸탈출” [somyeol-talchul] means, roughly, “avoid extinction.” This was my approach to life last summer. I feel as if extinction is still hanging over me. It occupies my mouth while I sleep, a kind of ghost-of-death that anchors itself in there when I cease my vigilance.

What I’m listening to right now.

Nell (넬), “소멸탈출.” This could be a hymn, almost.

가사:

고개 숙인 비겁함이 날 초라하게 하고
구겨버린 내 무릎이 자꾸 땅 속에 박혀
알 수 없는 목소리가 머리 속을 울리고
위태로운 내 믿음이 촛불처럼 흔들려

Lift me up, Lift me up
이 어둠 속에서
Lift me up, Lift me up
날 일으켜 세워줘

유혹이 든 위협이든 한 가지 확실한 건
난 언제나 내 진심의 반대편에 서있고
내 자신에 대한 연민과 혐오 사이에 갇혀
후회란 두 글자 속에 내 전부를 가둬
Lift me up, Lift me up
이 어둠 속에서
Lift me up, Lift me up
날 일으켜 세워줘
Don’t let me break down.

여기저기 균열이 간 내 마음의 틈 그 사이로
절망의 그림자가 말 없이 스며들어.

Lift me up, Lift me up
이 어둠 속에서
Lift me up, Lift me up
날 일으켜 세워줘
Lift me up, Lift me up
이 어둠 속에서
Lift me up, Lift me up
날 일으켜 세워줘

Lift me up, Lift me up
Lift me up, Lift me up
Don’t let me break down.

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

 

 

Caveat: 함흥차사

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book – really more of a noun-phrase than an aphorism.

함흥차사
ham·heung·cha·sa
Hamheung-messenger

The messenger to Hamheung

Apparently it refers to a messenger sent by an ancient king to his father’s hometown of Hamheung to try to make amends for some previous slight, but the messenger was killed – and thus never returned. This appears to mean something along the lines of English’s “shooting the messenger” but the usage is somewhat different – it means someone who doesn’t come back from some task. It does NOT appear to mean something like “don’t blame the bearer of bad news” but rather “where did so-and-so wander off to?”

Caveat: 내가 지금 편한 이유는 내리막길을 걷고 있기 때문이다

This aphorism is not from my aphorism book. It was one that Curt was admiring and trying to explain to me, which he got, in turn, from the Kakao status message (Kakao is a kind of Korean facebook) of a student.

내가 지금 편한 이유는
nae·ga ji-geum pyeon·han i·yu·neun
I-SUBJ now comfortable-be-PPART motive-TOPIC
내리막길을 걷고 있기 때문이다
nae·ri·mak·gil·eul geot·go itt·gi ttae·mun·i·da
downhill-way-OBJ walk-ING there-be-GER reason-be
The reason I am comfortable now is because I am walking downhill.

I am comfortable because I am walking downhill.

This is not a way of saying “smooth going” but rather that you are not working hard enough. Which is to say, if you do not strive for something, you will just coast downhill.

“Coasting.”

Today was a holiday. I did nothing: I slept in, and then played a game on my computer. Day over. Today, I coasted.

[daily log: walking, 1 km]

Caveat: 인명은 재천이라

This is a proverb from my notes that I don't know where I ran across.

인명은 재천이라
in·myeong·eun jae·cheon·i·ra
life-TOPIC providential-BE-QUOT
Life is providential.

A person's life is under the will of heaven.

True dat.

What I'm listening to right now.

MC 900 Ft Jesus, "I'm Going Straight To Heaven."

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

Caveat: 所謂 佛法者 卽 非佛法

This is from the Buddhist dictionary.

所謂 佛法者 卽 非佛法
소위 불법자 즉 비불법
so·wi bul·beop·ja jeuk bi·bul·beop
so-called Buddha-teaching per-se nothing-but non-Buddha-teaching
The so-called Buddha's teaching [is] nothing but non-Buddha's teaching.

This is to say, do not become attached to Buddha's teaching – it is an attachment like any other.

Beware attachments. This is a philosophical something-or-other that I have been circling warily for about three decades now. I'm still not sure…

Grammatically, I was interested in the suffix (particle) 者 (-자 [ ja]) which seems to be a kind of hanja version of a Korean topic-marker (e.g. -은 or -는).

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

Caveat: 흉가도 지닐탓

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

흉가도 지닐탓
hyung·ga·do ji·nil·tat
haunted-house-TOO keep-FUTPART-responsibility
[…like] a responsibility will [can?] keep even a haunted house.

I can't really figure out how to translate this. There's no verb – just a participle of "to keep" and I can't figure how "responsibility" can be the clausal subject of it.  But according to the aphorism book, this means "even an unlucky house depends on how you keep it." What it means doesn't seem well-connected to this meaning, either: the book says that it means a strong person can take control of even a hauted or ill-omened house.

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

Caveat: 7 Months Cancer Free

눈길

이제 바라보노라.
지난 것이 다 덮여 있는 눈길을.
온 겨울을 떠돌고 와
여기 있는 낯선 지역을 바라보노라.
나의 마음속에 처음으로
눈 내리는 풍경.
세상은 지금 묵념의 가장자리
지나온 어느 나라에도 없었던
설레이는 평화로서 덮이노라.
바라보노라. 온갖 것의
보이지 않는 움직임을.
눈 내리는 하늘은 무엇인가.
내리는 눈 사이로
귀 귀울여 들리나니 대지의 고백.
나는 처음으로 귀를 가졌노라.
나의 마음은 밖에서는 눈길
안에서는 어둠이노라.
온 겨울의 누리를 떠돌다가
이제 와 위대한 적막을 지킴으로써
쌓이는 눈더미 앞에
나의 마음은 어둠이노라.

-고은 [출전: "현대문학"(1958)]

The Snow Path

Now I am gazing
at the snow path that covers up what has passed.
After wandering through the whole winter,
I am gazing at this foreign territory.
The scene of snow
falls in my heart for the first time.
The world is at the edge of meditation,
a world covered with exuberant peace
no country that I have traveled has ever seen.
I am gazing at the invisible movements of all things.
What is the sky where the snow is falling?
Listening closely, through the falling snow,
I hear the grand earth’s confession.
I can hear for the first time.
My heart is the snow path outside,
and darkness within.
After wandering though this world of winter,
I have come now to guard the great quiet,
and, in front of the piling snow,
my heart is darkness.

– Ko Un (Korean poet, 1933- )

The poem and its translation from the excellent website called Korean Poetry in Translation. I have a book of translated poetry by Ko Un, too. Ko Un spent many years as a Buddhist monk. Here is a short one from that book that I liked (note that kalpa is a long period of time, like an eon or an age or an era, or sometimes means a human life-span).

Meditation Room

Try sitting
    not just for one kalpa
but for ten kalpas.
No enlightenment will come.

Simply play for a while with agonies, illusions,
                then stand up.

– Ko Un

The problem with books of translated poetry is that it is hard to find the originals, sometimes. Hence I have no original Korean of this poem.


Today is seven months since the surgery. I had a fever last night. I think my immune system is still pretty weak from the radiation treatment, and so I fall prey to every virus that ambles along. Or something – my speculations of yestermorning's blog post strike me as naive or ill-informed, at this moment. Still, I have a lot of work.

 [daily log (11 pm): walking, 2.5 km]

Caveat: 생각이란 생각하면 생각할수록…

생각이란 생각하면 생각할수록 생각나는것이 생각이므로 생각하지않는 생각이 좋은 생각이라 생각한다.

Thinkings

I decided a while back to do a series of Korean tongue-twisters, in the same way I have been doing aphorisms and proverbs. Here is one that I have had on queue for a long time but was feeling intimidated by the grammar. I made a stab at it finally.

생각이란 생각하면
saeng·gak·i·ran saeng·gak·ha·myeon
thought-AS-FOR think-COND
As for thoughts, when [I] thought them
생각할수록 생각나는것이
saeng·gak·hal·su·rok saeng·gak·na·neun·geos·i
think-THE-MORE recall-PROB-PAST
the more I thought the more I recalled
생각이므로 생각하지않는
saeng·gak·i·meu·ro saeng·gak·ha·ji·anh·neun
thought-be-SINCE think-NEG-PRESPART
since it’s thoughts, unthought
생각이 좋은 생각이라 생각한다
saeng·gak·i joh·eun saeng·gak·i·ra saeng·gak·han·da
thought-SUBJ be-good-PASTPART thought-be-PROP think
thoughts being thoughts that are good think

As for thoughts, when I think them, the more I think the more I recall, since being thoughts, I think unthought thoughts are good thoughts too.

Seems like there is a lot of thinking going on. I think.

This was really a puzzle, grammatically – it’s not so much a meaningful sentence as it is a “showcase of endings” – a single word, “thought” is nounified and verbified at least 9 times in 9 different ways, that I can count. I don’t have a lot of confidence on my guessed-at meaning, but, like a Dr Seuss rhyme, I’m not sure that that really matters – possibly, something equally non-sensical but more poetic or farsical could be derived for the English, that wouldn’t violate the spirit of the original.

In any event, I spent about an hour puzzling through my grammar bible and even recoursing several times to Martin before settling on this interpretation.

What do you think? I really like it. 재밌당.


For the next three days, it’s a giant holiday here: the lunar new year. I’m not planning on any trip or major activity, so I mostly will focus on trying to get lots of rest and improving my habits.

I’m such a homebody these days.

[daily log (1130 pm): walking, 5 km]

 

Caveat: 배안에 할아비는 있어도 배안의 형은 없다

This is another aphorism from my aphorism book.

배안에        할아비는            있어도
bae·an·e     har·a·bi·neun      iss·eo·do
womb-in-LOC  grandfather-TOPIC  have-TOO
배안의        형은                 없다
bae·an·ui    hyeong·eun           eops·da
womb-in-GEN  older-brother-TOPIC  not-have

Even if there is a grandfather in the womb,
there can be no older-brother in the womb.

This aphorism is not so translatable as most I have examined – it relies on some specific semantic features of Korean family-relation vocabulary vis-a-vis cultural conceptions of interrelatedness.

Firstly, a “grandfather” (할아비 [har·a·bi]) here is not just your mother’s or father’s father, but also other people of their generation – what we call great uncles (not to mention great-uncles’ friends and peers) in English. So “grandfather” is actually a rather misleading translation. The consequence is that it is, in fact, just barely possible to have a “grandfather” on this meaning who is “in the womb” – i.e. younger than oneself. Consider the rare but conceivable case of a person’s widowed great-grandfather taking a young bride and having another child late in life. By this definition, that child, a (half-)sibling (or generational peer) of the person’s own grandfather, is also a “grandfather,” despite being younger than that person.

Secondly, “older-brother” here is a somewhat inadequate translation for 형 [hyeong]. It can also mean unrelated people in a slightly older (fractionally higher?) generation than oneself. To my brother Andrew, I am hyeong, but so are my peers and friends. He should address all of us that same way. But what’s important for understanding this aphorism is that, unlike the term used for “grandfather,” it’s not the generational split that is definitional but rather the actual age difference. The consequence is that it is quite impossible to have a hyeong younger than oneself, because it violates the definition of the concept.

As far as what this aphorism means – well, I have no idea, really. I suppose it might be a sort of sideways reference to the awkwardness of those May-December marriages when they produce offspring, and how it can mess up one’s conceptions of the proper relations between the generations.

As an additional note, the word 할아비 [har·a·bi] gave me difficulties in itself. I assumed it meant grandfather, as that was what it transparently was to me. I’m sure I’ve heard it or run across it before, and it is a phonologically plausible reduction of the “correct” form: 할아버지 [har·a·beo·ji]. Yet in fact this particular version of the word is not to be found in Korean-English dictionaries. It appears to be “slangy” at some level. The Korean-Korean dictionary clarifies:

1) ‘할아버지’나 ‘할아범’을 홀하게 이르는 말.
[“grandfather” or “grandpa” carelessly spoken]
2) 할아버지가 손자, 손녀에게 자기 자신을 이르는 말
[as spoken by a grandfather referring to himself when addressing grandchildren]

Well, that makes sense. There are sometimes some quite annoying errata and lacunae in the universal Korean-English lexicon we all have to use (by which I mean there is, in fact, only ONE Korean-English dictionary out there in the universe, which everyone pirates from each other – the web dictionaries and the electronic dictionaries copy from the print dictionaries which copy from each other, and they all inevitably always show the same mistakes, the same missing elements, etc.).

Still, when I was searching for this particular missing term, I found that it crops up in weird places that seem to be of (much) higher formality, e.g. it shows up in the hanja dictionary, where it’s given as the gloss for 祖 [조], and I ran across it in a list of divergent terms for 평안 [North Korean] dialect, where 하내비 is given as the North Korean term versus the “standard Korean” 할아비 – yet it clearly isn’t quite standard, it seems to me, at least according to the dictionary.

Other vocabulary notes for Korean
성실 = devotion, faithfulness, integrity (overheard at work)
홀하다 = to be careless, to be negligent, to be rash
이르다 = to tell, to inform, to address (in speaking?)
똑똑하다 = to be smart, to be bright
인정하다 = to admit, to acknowledge, to accept, to recognize
/ ~ 인정해야 해요 = [I] have to admit (recognize) that ~
자기 [自己] = oneself


Only 300 words!

Recently in a discussion with my TOEFL2 class they observed that they have to memorize a list of about 300 words each week (300! each week!), and I felt embarrassed to realize that after 6 years (6 years!) in Korea, my Korean active vocabulary is probably at most about 300 words of Korean.

I instantly felt very depressed, and decided I needed to redouble my efforts to learn Korean vocabulary – not that “redoubling” nothing really leads to a much higher rate-of-return. Anyway, I’m going to try to return to my old custom of attaching Korean vocabulary I’m trying to learn to the the bottom of blog posts, even though I realize almost no one has any interest in this information. By posting it here, though, it keeps my efforts visible to myself, where I might thus take more time to study. 

… Blog as aide-memoire.

[daily log (1100pm): walking, 5.5 km]

Caveat: 쑨 죽이 밥될까

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

쑨              죽이           밥될까
ssun           juk·i          bap·doel·kka
boil-PASTPART  porridge-SUBJ  rice-become-SUPP
Do you suppose boiled porridge becomes rice [again]?

You can’t undo making rice into porridge.  “What’s done is done.”

[daily log (1130 pm): walking, 5 km]

Caveat: 먹기는 아귀같이 먹고 일은 장승같이 한다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

먹기는        아귀같이             먹고     일은       장승같이          한다
meok·gi·neun a·gwi·kat·i         meok·go  il·eun    jang·seung·kat·i han·da
eat-CONCESSV starving-ghost-like eat-CONJ work-SUBJ devil-post-like  do-PRES

[He] eats like a starving ghost but works like a devil post.

The starving ghost here is probably those of the Buddhist cosmology, although I’ve developed the impression that there was a pre-Buddhist tradition of starving ghosts in Korea that adapted itself to the Buddhist concept (and vice versa, syncretistically). The “devil post” is the thing called 장승 [jang-seung], the pre-Buddhist shamanistic totems Koreans place outside of villages to ward off bad spirits.

The concept is a man who eats voraciously but works lazily – because clearly a starving ghost eats a great deal, but a devil post doesn’t do much but just stand there and look scary, in the off chance an evil spirit happens along that needs to be scared off.

I know a lot of people like this.

Here is a picture of some hard-working jangseung that I took in 2010.

20100422_JNKR_P1040261

[daily log (11 pm): walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 제 꾀에 넘는다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

제         꾀에       넘는다
je         kkoe·e    neom·neun·da
one’s-own  trap-LOC  run-accross-PRES

Petard_gros_1812[One] falls in one’s own trap.

This is essentially “Hoisted with one’s own petard” – an English aphorism of Shakespearean origin that was always utterly opaque to me, since petard is no longer anything but an archaic word.

A petard was a small, simple gunpowder bomb used to blow up walls and doors in the renaissance period, and the meaning of hoist in this expression is “get blown up by.” So the Shakespearean phrase simply means “Get blown up by one’s own bomb.”

[daily log (11 pm): walking, 5 km]

Caveat: 우렁이속 같다

This is from my aphorism book.

우렁이속         같다
u·reong·i·sok   gat·da
snail-interior  resemble
It is like the inside of a snail.

Delicious_download.phpThis is about something that appears simple on the outside but has complexity on the inside, like a snail’s shell. So, for example, a seemingly simple person with unseen depths.

Koreans traditionally eat snails, of course – like most things. I had some once, in a spicy soup. You can buy packages of snails in the supermarket.

[daily log (11 pm): walking, 5.5 km]

 

Caveat: 절에가 젓국을 찾는다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

절에가            젓국을           찾는다
jeol·e·ga        jeot·guk·eul    chat·neun·da
temple-LOC-SUBJ  fish-sauce-OBJ  look-for-PRES
[Like…] looking for fish sause at a temple.

You can’t find fish sauce at a temple, because Buddhist temples in Korea keep a strictly vegan rule. So this aphorism means to look for something where you won’t find it. I’m not able to think of an English equivalent at the moment.

I found a slightly different version of the same aphorism online: “절에 가서 젓국 달라 한다” = “Go to the temple and ask for fish sauce.”


Sheepless_in_seattle_groan

I had a kind of bad day. I woke up coughing a lot, after an insomniac night. I felt lousy. I decided to take one of my internet holidays and kept my phone and computer turned off. I made beans, cooking them for many hours but then felt like I had too upset a stomach to eat them. I’ve suffered from a gradually increasing problem with nausea, these last few weeks. I don’t know what’s going on – is it just a sort of psychosomatic manifestation of my frustration with food and phlegm (which is how it feels), or is it something more than that? I tried to study Korean for a while but I got depressed with it. I did some laundry. I read some chapters in a novel, and some appendices to Beowulf.

[daily log: no – I feel sick]

Caveat: 판돈 일곱닢에 노름꾼은 아홉

This is one of the aphorisms from my aphorism book.
판돈      일곱닢에          노름꾼은             아홉
pan·don  il·gop·nip·e     no·reum·kkun·eun    a·hop
bet      seven-penny-ABL  gambling-man-TOPIC  nine
Nine players betting on seven pennies.
It means too many people fighting over too small a small prize.
This seems like a good summary of the current hagwon market in South Korea. I think if I were to publish a book about the hagwon business, I would make this the title.
[daily log (11 pm): walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 간장공장 공장장은 강공장장이고…

Right before my hospitalization, I had decided to do a series of Korean tongue-twisters, in the same way I have been doing aphorisms and proverbs. I had this little cache of them, half-completed, in my blog queue, which I’m now finally getting around to working through.

간장공장 공장장은 강공장장이고 된장공장 공장장은 장공장장이다.
간장공장              공장장은              강공장장이고
gan·jang·gong·jang  gong·jang·jang·eun  gang·gong·jang·jang·i·go
soy-sauce-factory   plant-manager-SUBJ  Mr-Gang-plant-manager-is-CONJ
된장공장                 공장장은              장공장장이다
doen·jang·gong·jang    gong·jang·jang·eun  jang·gong·jang·jang·i·da
soybean-paste-factory  plant-manager-SUBJ  Mr-Jang-plant-manager-IS
Mr Gang is the soy sauce factory plant manager and Mr Jang is the soybean paste factory plant manager.


간장된장This is a wonderful tongue twister.

picture

Caveat: 눈 내리는 밤

눈 내리는 밤

말간 눈을 한
애인이여,
동공에 살던 은빛 비늘이여
오늘은 눈이 내린다
목에 하얀 수건을 둘러놓고 얼굴을 씻겨주던
가난한 애인이여,
외로운 천체에
성스러운 고요가 내린다
나는 눈을 감는다
손길이 나의 얼굴을 다 씻겨주는 시간을
– 문태준 (1970- )

Translation…

The Snowy Night

Oh, my lover
who had pure eyes;
oh, the silver scales
that occupied your eyes.
Tonight snow falls.
Oh, my poor lover
who wrapped my neck
with a white towel and washed my face,
a sacred quiet descends
upon the lonely planet.
I close my eyes
to remember the time
your hands washed my face.
– Moon Tae-jun (1970- )

This is from the excellent site called Korean Poetry in Translation. Part of the poem's effect in the original is due to the fact that the words "snow" and "eyes" are homonyms in Korean: 눈. So the "lover" is clearly the snow, right from the start.

Last night was a snowy night. It was beautiful.

[daily log (1130 pm): walking, 5 km]

Caveat: 업은 아기 삼년 찾는다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.
업은                    아기    삼년         찾는다
eop·eun                 a·gi  sam·nyeon    chat·neun·da
carry-on-back-PRESPART  baby  three-years  search-PRES
[Like] looking for three years for the baby one is carrying on one’s back.
BabyThis is about the same as “cannot see the forest for the trees” but also is about that tendency we have to look for things we already are holding, as when I’m looking for my glasses while wearing them.


Unrelatedly, what I’m listening to right now.


Smashing Pumpkins, “Disarm.” Michelle hated the Smashing Pumpkins, yet this song is strongly associated in my memory with our first full year together, because it was on the radio constantly during my drives to work (at UPS in Northeast Minneapolis) or class (at the Univ. of Minnesota).
[daily log (1100 pm): walking, 1 km – everything was so slippery, so I gave up on my walk]

Caveat: 누운 소 타기

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.
누운               소  타기
nu·un             so  ta·gi
lie-down-PASTPART cow ride-GER
[As easy as] riding a lying-down cow
“As easy as pie.” I never understood this English aphorism – why is pie, specifically, easy?
I think riding a lying-down cow sounds pretty easy.

Caveat: 절에가면 중인체 촌에가면 속인인체

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.
절에가면           중인체           촌에가면            속인인체
jeol·e·ga·myeon   jung·in·che     cheon·e·ga·myeon   sok·in·in·che
temple-IN-go-WHEN monk-be-PRETEND village-IN-go-WHEN commoner-be-PRETEND
When in the temple, make like a monk, when in the village, make like a commoner
Essentially, this is equivalent to the English aphorism “when in Rome, do as the Romans.” I have been a fairly loyal practitioner of this style of behavior, I think – at least, to the best of my ability.

Caveat: “남자 없이 잘 살아”

This song title is interesting to me linguistically – the translation “I don’t need a man” isn’t really accurate, although it certainly captures the same spirit or attitude.
남자     없이           잘    살아
nam·ja  eops·i        jal   sar·a
man     not-have-ADV  well  live-INF
I live well not having a man.
I like how the -이 adverbial ending works here: literally, it ends up meaning, “man not havingly well [I] live.”
What I’m listening to right now.


Miss A [미쓰에이], “남자 없이 잘 살아” [I don’t need a man]
가사 (with bad sound-it-out-as-you-go-but-definitely-don’t-try-to-be-consistent romanization courtesy the internet):

This is for all the independent ladies
Let’s go

나는 남자 없이 잘 살아
   naneun namja obsi jal sara
그러니 자신이 없으면 내 곁에 오지를 마
   geuroni jasini obseumyon ne gyote ojireul ma
나는 함부로 날 안 팔아
   naneun hamburo naran para
왜냐면 난 I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (What?)
   wenyamyon nan I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (What?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (진짜?)
   I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (jinjja?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (정말?)
   I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (jongmal?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man
나는 남자 없이 잘 잘 살아
   naneun namja obsi jal jal sara
내 돈으로 방세 다 내
   ne doneuro bangse da ne
먹고 싶은 거 사 먹고 옷도 사 입고
   mokgo sipeun go sa mokgo otdo sa ipgo
충분하진 않지만 만족할 줄 알아
   chungbunhajin anchiman manjokhal jurara
그래서 난 나를 사랑해 (hey)
   geureso nan nareul saranghe (hey)
부모님의 용돈 내 돈처럼
   bumonime yongdon ne donchorom
쓰고 싶지 않아 나이가 많아
   sseugo sipji ana naiga mana
손 벌리지 않는 게 당연한 거 아냐
   son bolliji anneun ge dangyonhan go anya
그래서 난 내가 떳떳해 (hey)
   geureso nan nega ttot-ttot-he (hey)
Boy don’t say
내가 챙겨줄게 내가 아껴줄게 No No
   nega chenggyojulge nega akkyojulge No No
Boy don’t play
진지하게 올 게 아니면
   jinjihage ol ge animyon
나는 남자 없이 잘 살아
   naneun namja obsi jal sara
그러니 자신이 없으면 내 곁에 오지를 마
   geuroni jasini obseumyon ne gyote ojireul ma
나는 함부로 날 안 팔아
   naneun hamburo naran para
왜냐면 난 I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (What?)
   wenyamyon nan I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (What?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (진짜?)
   I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (jinjja?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (정말?)
   I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (jongmal?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man
나는 남자 없이 잘 잘 살아
   naneun namja obsi jal jal sara
잘난 체는 안돼 딴 데서는
   jallan cheneun andwe ttan desoneun
통할지 몰라도 너만큼 나도
   tonghalji mollado nomankeum nado
잘나진 않았지만 자신감은 넘쳐
jallajin anatjiman jasin-gameun nomchyo
그래서 난 나를 사랑해 (hey)
geureso nan nareul saranghe (hey)
내 힘으로 살게 딴 애처럼
ne himeuro salge ttan echorom
부모님 잘 만나 남자 잘 만나
bumonim jal manna namja jal manna
편하게 사는 거 관심이 없어
pyonhage saneun go gwansimi obso
그래서 난 내가 떳떳해 (hey)
geureso nan nega ttot-ttot-he (hey)
Boy don’t say
내가 너의 미래 나를 믿고 기대 No No
nega noye mire nareul mitgo gide No No
Boy don’t play
나를 존중할 게 아니면
nareul jonjunghal ge animyon
나는 남자 없이 잘 살아
naneun namja obsi jal sara
그러니 자신이 없으면 내 곁에 오지를 마
geuroni jasini obseumyon ne gyote ojireul ma
나는 함부로 날 안 팔아
naneun hamburo naran para
왜냐면 난 I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (What?)
wenyamyon nan I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (What?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (진짜?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (jinjja?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (정말?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (jongmal?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man
나는 남자 없이 잘 잘 살아
naneun namja obsi jal jal sara
매일 아침 일찍 일어나서
meirachim iljjik ironaso
하루 종일 바빠서
haru jongil bappaso
밥 한 끼 제대로 못 먹어
bap han kki jedero mot mogo
하지만 내가 좋아서 한 일이야 돈이야 작지만 다 내 땀이야
hajiman nega joaso han iriya doniya jakjiman da ne ttamiya
남자 친구가 사 준 반지 아니야
namja chingguga sa jun banji aniya
내 차 내 옷 내가 벌어서 산 거야
ne cha ne ot nega boroso san goya
적금 넣고 부모님 용돈 드리고 나서 산 거야
jokgeum noko bumonim yongdon deurigo naso san goya
남자 믿고 놀다 남자 떠나면 어떡할 거야
namja mitgo nolda namja ttonamyon ottokhal goya
이런 내가 부러워?
iron nega burowo?
부러우면 진 거야
buroumyon jin goya
나는 남자 없이 잘 살아
naneun namja obsi jal sara
그러니 자신이 없으면 내 곁에 오지를 마
geuroni jasini obseumyon ne gyote ojireul ma
나는 함부로 날 안 팔아
naneun hamburo naran para
왜냐면 난 I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (What?)
wenyamyon nan I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (What?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (진짜?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (jinjja?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (정말?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man (jongmal?)
I don’t need a man I don’t need a man
나는 남자 없이 잘 잘 살아
naneun namja obsi jal jal sara
[daily log: walking, 7.5 km; running, 3 km]

Caveat: 청보에 개똥

This is an aphorism from my book of aphorisms.
청보에                   개똥
cheong·bo·e             gae·ttong
blue-wrapping-paper-IN  dog-shit
[…like] dog shit in blue wrapping paper.
This is like that wonderful English aphorism about putting lipstick on a pig – the outside doesn’t match the inside: the problem of false advertising.
What’s the solution? Transparency, transparency, transparency. I guess I’m thinking about work.
IndexWant to hear something funny? Typically when I’m typing up these aphorisms, I will run a google search on them, just out of curiosity or to see if anything interesting comes up. I will do a web google search and an image google search.
Guess what the first image was that came up when I put this aphorism in to google? A picture of former president Lee Myung-bak (이명박) giving a speech, with the title “청보에 개똥을 쌀 놈, 이명박” (“guy who wraps dogshit in blue wrapping paper, Lee Myung-bak.”).

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