Cherry Blossom HIke; Save Michael

Michael Jackson, in many ways, is like a Korean Cherry Blossom. He is dead and was very pale when alive. And you really didn't see him very often.

Okay that's a bit tasteless but it's the only way to tie in a day of hiking with this picture.

At Geumsansa (Gold Mountain Temple--I could recognize all the Chinese on my own! Woot!) many of the blossoms had already fallen but in the flickr link please see those that hadn't. Most notable are a striking pink and white tree next to each other and a green tree. The subtle differences in color aren't noticed most of the time and the white/pink ones are beautiful but there's something about them together. There was also a cute

Then, walking around Jeonju, we had two women unfurl a Taegukgi with Michael on it. It read "Justice 4 Michael, Korea will always be with you." Cha Won, who is Korean and speaks Korean, translated. For some reason these women were collecting signatures to send this flag-thing to Los Angeles to get Justice for Michael. I get the feeling the fact that it seems to make no sense is not due to language barrier so much as sheer irrationality. So, while I normally ignore people who want me to sign something, I jumped on board with this one. They were kind enough to even email me the pic the next day.

Flickr Links:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/badukkong/sets/72157623767826145/

The Shoes Make The Woman

Before coming to Korea I never would have considered some things "pluses."

Things like "she usually chews with mouth closed."

Or "she does not wear high heeled shoes to the park or hiking."

Or "she does not seriously expect me to believe she is a 32-year old virgin."

But after a year here, each of those are rare traits. And while I have met women who do not do those things (save one woman who was in her late 20s and may well actually have been a virgin) and they are generally my friends, these women, if looking around and talking to other friends is any indication, are finds.

For example, my coworker explained to me that it is important that his wife lie to him and he believe it. They married at 27. They *ahem* before they were wed. But he was the first man she ever kissed. Mmm hmm.

The shoes thing will never cease to amaze me. Six-inch stillettos? Perfect for a day at the mountain! Why? To look like you have longer legs! And men seriously go for this, I guess. I would slap anyone who did that.

Fortunately today, meeting a few friends from my yoga class I did not have to slap anyone. (Funny how "yogachingu" (yoga-friend) and "yojachingu" (girlfriend) are so similar, but I Freudianly digress.)

The cute nurse who speaks pretty good English wore converse-like shoes. The kicker? She had makeup on, which she usually doesn't at yoga. And even then, she didn't look that different.

I think I'm in love, which just goes to show how standards change (let's not say "are lowered") in a new culture.

To not push the envelope, I'm going to wait a while to ask the "ever kissed a man" question. And I'll try not to laugh nomatter what she says. I'll just hope she doesn't ask me back.

Don't Forget to Bring a Towel

How to teach beach objects:
1. Prepare lesson involving South Park character catch phrase.
2. Drill
3. Enjoy

Reference here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Towelie

Korea Times Uses "Bromance" in Headline

Blessed are those that learn the latest idioms of another language, then they can appear as stupid as native speakers.

Here:http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/news/art/2010/01/141_59416.html

'Brothers' Offers Bittersweet 'Bromance'

(Since I didn't put it up here, FYI the Korea Times is the paper that featured an article based on Weekly World News, here: http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/news/nation/2009/12/113_57334.html)

My Korean Really Impresses People Who Don't Speak Korean

"Wow that was amazing. I totally could get none of that."

That's what an acquaintance of mine said after listening to me translate our conversation to our archery teacher. She had talked about a variety of things including personal and professional past and future (planned) events and, in simplified form, I related all of those. He nodded and said something like "Oh I get it."

Another time: "Man your Korean is really good, to me that was just a string of words."

This is what another acquaintance--in fact, the one who introduced me to archery and who speaks adequate Korean (although he stopped studying a few months ago)--said when I related a story in Korean. We had been talking with a man who spoke pretty good English (better English than my Korean, definitely) but he didn't understand the last point. So I simplified and related, in my most current 2d language.

The problem is, Jack--my friend--was not the only one who felt that way. The Korean man said, in perfect English:

"Yes, what was that? I didn't really understand."

That's the problem. People nod to show they are listening, not necessarily that they understand. Generally Koreans react the same way to my long-winded Korean attempts that non-speaking expats do: "That was an amazing series of words that I could get no meaning from."

Misconjugated verbs and gerunds, dropped particles (mark subject and object and often function like our prepositions), poor pronunciation, and sometimes simply made-up words that I have no idea where they came from have been known to regularly emit from my mouth. But in the meantime, I assure you: If you don't speak Korean, I can amaze you with mine.

Korean Wedding Etiquette

Here Comes the Food!
Here Comes the Food!
Give Us Some Money and We Will Feed You!

That pretty much sums it up. K weddings are a big deal, and big business. "Wedding Palaces," "Wedding Towers," and even Wonju's own "Wedding Opera House" (which attempts to look like 95% old castle and 5% Disney product). K weddings get together huge groups, including even casual acquaintances (generally), who then proceed to ignore the ceremony and eat.

No, really.

To be fair, my friend Kim Cheong-rae, who was kind enough to invite me to witness him betrothe a German woman, admitted his wedding would be short on ceremony. "People just come for the food. We're not going to waste their time with much chatter."

You could say the same thing about wedding receptions in the US (that I've seen) but the overtness here is drastic. Drinking during the vows and talking loudly? Okay! Especially if you're an old man. Helping yourself to the buffet and another beer while the bride gives a speech? Fine! Crowding in front of others to take pictures whenever you feel like it, even crowding the betrothed and getting in their way? Cool!

Well, fine so long as you ponied up.

K-weddings do not waste time with registries. Why buy a gift? We'll get it for ourselves. The traditional gift is ... an envelope full of cash! And YES YOU HAVE TO. The men who sit at the table by the entrance (just behind the Groom's mother) have a list of invitees. Only those who give the men envelopes will get tickets for the buffet, and your buffet tickets WILL be checked before you are allowed to graze from the tables in the back room.

To Cheong-rae's credit he personally handed out the tickets (to anyone who bothered to go up and congratulate him) and didn't ask if you'd "given" first. (Although it was rather quickly after I told him that we three foreigners did pitch in that he invited us to the after-BBQ. Hmm. (Kim: Kidding!))

Video NOT of Kim's wedding but for cultural reference:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qNOevO8ytc

Picture: Mr. and Mrs. Kim, the best I could capture them from a seated position. (Same last name as 40% of the population here or something like that. Good thing they trace ancestry very carefully but I don't think it's an issue for them.)

Half the Women in My Yoga Class Agree: I Need to Tighten My ..

.. sphincter.

Yup.

Let me back up a bit. (No disgusting pun intended.)

As you may have read, my (now former) yoga instructor is pregnant. Recently she reached a point where the pregnancy disallowed her to teach us the more intense yoga poses and moves, so we have a new teacher.

I personally quite like the new teacher. She's willing to correct me quite often (needed) and a change of poses/methods is always good.

She specifically emphasizes breathing. Pilates-style, stomach contracted, slow, deliberate breathing.

To this end, we were doing a warm up exercise last week: While sitting on our knees with hands outstretched to the sides, we would ball our fingers into a fist, then release, breathing in when we clenched and out when we released.

The yoga instructor said something, looked at me, then looked at one of the women in the class who speaks very good English. "Tell him," she said.

And the English speaker said, "Darren, when you make a fist, you need to tighten your ..." and gestured with her hand along her abdomen and buttocks.

"Okay," I said, and tightened my chest and buttocks.

"No, she said, tighten your ..." and did the same gesture.

The instructor then said "kwalyeokgeun," and the English-speaker shrugged.

Thinking I'd understood, and the word was of no importance, I confidently said "Algessumnida." The instructor shook her head, and we proceeded with class.

After class I met up with four women: The English-speaker and three of the best yoga students. The English-speaker again said, "When you tighten your fist you tighten your, ..." I said, "chest, buttocks," and another woman intervened.

This other woman, who I will call Yoga Master, is amazingly strong and flexible. But I've never heard her speak English beyond "hello" and such. And so I was all the more surprised when she said:

"Sphincter."

After eight months in Korea I'm proud of the body parts I know. Arm, leg, body, head; more recently I've acquired nose, wrist, mouth, eye, thigh, and buttocks. Rectal locations (other than the butt which you put your hands under when doing leg-lifts) never ranked terribly high on my list of things to learn, but for some reason (I'm hoping she used a phone-dictionary) she knew this one.

The English-speaker, who was using her phone dictionary when this interruption occurred, concurred, "Yes, sphincter! Do you know 'sphincter,' Darren?"

"Yes," I said. "I do. I should tighten my sphincter?"

"Yes! Your sphincter!"

We confirmed that we were talking about the same body part using hand gestures that maybe we should've tried earlier, gestures I'm not going to detail here.

Then the five of us went out in the hall, and two or three of the women demonstrated the exercise.

We all had our hands out, extended fingers, and gradually balled them into a fist as the English-speaker said "Breathe in and tighten your sphincter," and the Yoga Master echoed, "sphincter," and I echoed, "tighten my sphincter." And then we released the fist, the English speaker said "relax your sphincter," and the Yoga Master and I echoed "relax your sphincter." And then we did it again, but this time all of the women chimed in: "Breathe in, tighten your sphincter." And we ended in perfect unison: "Breathe out, relax your sphincter."

[Of course there's no picture. ]

Thank You, Something Awful

SA is a hit-and-miss place, but here are two hits for the Korean audience:

http://www.somethingawful.com/d/photoshop-phriday/kim-jong-il.php

http://www.somethingawful.com/d/photoshop-phriday/kim-jong-il2.php?page=1

(and as a footnote lemme say Korean allergy medicine makes me feel really funny ... like even if I was still sneezing it'd be cool, man)

A Word for Wedgie!~

Sorry, Kim.

엣찌 있게 (et-chi it-ge)

(I actually saved it on my phone as a memo and forgot ... shame on me!)

Edit:
Kim tells me that this is just a word for "Edgy," as in fashion-forward. Konglishlly speaking, that makes perfect sense. Back to the drawing board.

No Word for Wedgie

The lifejacket had under-leg straps, which pulled our swimsuits up into "you-know-where."

Just a week ago, at Ocean World, I swear Park taught me a simple word for "wedgie." (After watching several women in bikinis go down a very steep slide, it was highly topical.)

So I asked Kim, "Kim, what's the Korean word for wedgie?"

"Well, we don't have a noun." (We must note that Kim is getting his Master's in English right now and was reading "English Syntax" on the van.)

"We say 'Butt ate trousers.' "

"Eongdongi-ga paji-rul meogeotda." (Politely: meogeosseoyo. But really, is this a "polite" topic?")

Somebody, tell me a noun for wedgie. It's not that I want to prove Kim wrong. It's that, like intelligent life, or peaceful coexistance .... I know it's out there.

[No picture ... is there an appropriate picture? I don't think so. So no picture.]

Ocean World: Because, Sixty Minutes from the Beach, You Need a Wave Pool

But really, you do.

The beach is dirty, far away, scant on food, and cold.

The theme-park has beer about every fifty meters, a way-cool slide (actually, several), and best of all ... gratuitous Egyptian themeism everywhere you look!

"Whoa." (Keanu Reeves, The Matrix. Totally.)

When we arrived, I could not believe my eyes. I was about to spend my Saturday at one of those cheesy theme parks that I openly mock. Not only that, I had paid near $50 to get in and put another $50 more down in "Ocean World Coin" to buy things on the inside.

This is where being a cynical American is proven wrong, but I'll get to that later.

We took off our shoes just past the entrance and put them in shoe lockers. We were given rubber adjustable wrist-bands that looked like watches to wave by and open our lockers, and we were given UPC-like scannable wrist bands with our dear "Ocean World Coin." We undressed and locked up separately, and met at the threshold of a world of concrete, cash, and current.

Park, showing no signs of slowing down since the ATV excursion, led us at high foot-speed (on wet concrete) to a variety of locales before she sadly informed us (Caroline and I) that there were no beach chairs to be had (rented) and we would have to lie on the shaded concrete. We spread out our Snoopy, Hello Kitty, and sadly blank towels, put on our life jackets (required), and headed for the wave pool.

Before, I had been to wave pools. And the ocean.

This was bigger than wave pools, and, usually, the ocean.

This was less salty than the ocean.

This was more crowded than most subways.

But once I got used to bumping into someone wherever I turned, it was fun.

We swam, hand in hand, for the birthplace of the waves, near the wall, the speakers playing "dun-DUNNNH" (a minor third, I think) every time a wave was to come and the dog-headed god. Past the many fake stone cobras and palm trees we went, ignoring signs of "podu cotu" (food court) and the beach cabanas that destroyed the theme! We were swept up in waves bigger than us, catapulted into strangers as if in a mosh pit, and emerged, nasally clorinated, in time to laugh, rinse (okay maybe not rinse), and repeat.

Then it was snack time. The stands at Ocean World have the usual hot-dog fare, the usual (Korean) ddukbokki fair, and ... churros. Yes, churros. I don't know if I can call it "Konglish" as it is "Kospish" (or Spanglean?) but there were churros. Coincidentally, "cheoreoseu" is also singular, as the Koreans opted to adapt the plural, rather than the single "churro." Funny, considering that the "churros" were sold in packs of ... one. But we had beer (about $3 a pop domestic, $6 for heineken, not bad for a theme park) and churros and went to experience what every theme park promises:

Lines.

Long f*ing lines.

We took our full beer cans to the line for the tube slide, which was over 90 minutes long. Along the way we watched people try to tactfully remove wedgies as they exited a high-speed slide, and we watched luge-like races on a hill.

It was a long 90 minutes, no doubt, and I had to pee by the top.

And then they put us in an inner tube with handles, two or three stories up, and pushed us down a curvy-bumpy slide.

And it was so totally worth it. Why did I skip Oceans of Fun when I was a child living near Kansas City? How could I doubt that those lines were for majestic pleasures? How wrong could I have been?

But I was.

Anyhoo, we had lunch, and a dip in the hot tub, and then got in line for the BIG slide. The 200 minute line. Two snack-bar trips and restroom trips later (done tag-team in line, of course), and we were sitting with a huge crowd, moving slowly toward an amorphous destination of adrenaline, looking at the 30 minute mark.

Then we got our two-person raft.

Looking at a five-story slide is one thing. Preparing to go down it, as you look out on the tiny people, is another. My companion is plagued with vertigo, and I merely anxiety, so I had to go first. I had the front seat to face the drop that we would be forced down to begin our ride.

Our Korean lifeguards were very polite, making sure we were in proper position and ready before we went. And then we went ... every up-swing, we caught air. We nearly turned around, but the (well-designed) corners narrowed and straightened us out. A few minutes (maybe twenty seconds?) later we were at the bottom.

Seven p.m., time to leave. Sorry for making you wait three hours, Park, but we did too. And coming here was your idea.

There were numerous other notables, too. Coin lockers? No, those are "self-control boxes," which, at about 10 cents, you should get several of. Nevermind they're right next to the smoking area. (Cough, irony, cough, pun, cough, hack, wheeze, done.) Stage shows? We've got 'em, nearly all day, in some of the "most interesting" costumes you'll ever see. http://www.flickr.com/photos/badukkong/sets/72157621992467965/ doesn't do justice; there were flamingo-like rags and puffy balls fit for Vegas glam and burlesque ... indescribable.

But the best part? Ocean World coin is refundable. They scan your bracelet on the way out and give you your money back. It's just an easier way of paying, not a way of predating on your laziness.

And that, my friends, is Korean hospitality. In a theme park. About water. And Egyptians. In the wooded forest.

Enjoy.

***Do check out the video at http://www.flickr.com/photos/badukkong/sets/72157621992467965/. Audio's bad but you'll get the idea. Photos, too.

[Photo: Entrance with models/dancers. Russian, we think, by overhearing.]

Herb Country ... Because You Need a Theme-Park Tourist Trap ... for Herbs

Mmm hmm.

Well it was fun. Well, not so much fun as tasty. But it was tasty.

Herb Nara (Herb Country) is, as the title implies, a themed-up K-tourist-trap somewhere in the depths of Gangwon-do. How I got there remains a mystery, as I was merely a passenger, but I don't remember the drive taking too long from the ATV place by P'yongchang.

There were herbs.

Lots of herbs.

Herb jam, herb tea, herb bread.

All pleasing to the palate. So much so that I took some home despite the exorbitant prices. (Okay, not that exorbitant for organic produce in Korea, but still.)

And then there were more herbs.

And some stupid photo-ops.

Enjoy

Four Wheeling With A Trainer Can Be Scary

Credit my laziness and a touch of business, I didn't manage to get this update in last weekend when it happened. (Last weekend--both a potato festival and four wheeling? I must be mad!) But anyway, here's the scoop:

Four-wheeling (ATV riding) near P'yongchang (still in Gangwon-do, Korea's most rural province, but near Seoul). Great fun. For about $25 per person we got a brief introductory lesson and an hour of guided on- and off- road adventure. The trail started paved and straight, and gradually got more difficult as we progressed. There were beautiful views to be had off the side of the mountain, but they were not as captivating as the task of staying on the path (and thus on the mountain), and so my memory is fuzzy and pictures are not to be had.

A couple in our group wanted to go quite slow, so we did, but eventually, when we were about to turn around, the group split. My Korean friend, Park Gun-yeong, who is a bit of an adventure nut and trainer, basically demanded that we go further, and faster, and then come back to get the rest. Before I knew it (I just reacted to "Darren, come on"), we were going full throttle.

At first, I was glad. It's easier to go fast--you have momentum and not every rut in the trail is a major obstacle. But it's not easier to turn fast, and when you're on a path about twice as wide as your ATV with one side being a guardrail-free drop down a mountain, you really don't want to skid out. Or at least I didn't want to. Park, on the other hand, was no longer to be seen.

Eventually I caught up with her and the disenfranchised guide who did not understand why I had parted ways with the pokees, and we headed back down. Next stop: Herb Nara

Korean Veganism (the Song) is Here!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1PkpY8PeNg

An meogsumnida: "Meog" is eat. "An" before it makes it negative, and the "sumnida" afterwards makes it formal. (For those who can read Korean but aren't familiar with the irregular pronunciation rules, piup ("p") is said "m" before niun.)

Meog ji anhayo: A less formal (but still polite) way of saying you don't eat. Again "meog" is eat, "ji" is a connector used with verbs, "an" (like earlier) makes it negative and the "--yo" makes it polite.

(If your phrasebook has "an meogayo," that's basically the same thing but didn't fit the song rhythm as nicely.)

Bbego juseyo: "Take out please" ("bbae" is the stem of remove, "go" is a connector used with verbs, and "juseyo," literally "give me" makes it nice and polite.)

**

Gogi: Meat (Tweiji: Pig, Soe: Cow, Dalk: Chicken. Yes you have to say all three. "Meat" by itself generally is taken to mean beef. I've seen ham in "vegetable" kim-bap (sushi-like) rolls. See http://taegukilchang.blogspot.com/2009/07/no-meat-doesnt-mean-no-meat.html.)

Modun chongnyu gogi: ("Modun" means every ("modu" in the adjective form) "chongnyu" is kind, and I think we've covered "gogi" by now. Again for those who can read and are surprised at the spelling: riul ("r") after iung ("ng") becomes "n.")

**

Haemul: Seafood. (Mulgogi: Fish (which is not seafood sometimes), Seu: shrimp (and lobster but let's not go there), Joge: Shellfish (usually clam). Yes you have to say odang seperately, it's not considered seafood. Again, see http://taegukilchang.blogspot.com/2009/07/no-meat-doesnt-mean-no-meat.html.)

**

Tarun keot i. First, you probably noticed I say "kosh-i" that's because shiot (romanized s), when in the padchim (bottom) is said like a "t," but when followed by a vowel (like "i," our dear old topic marker), it usually is said as an "s" and part of the next vowel. That said, "tarun" is another and "keot" is thing. Since Korean usually doesn't distinguish between plural, this could be either "another thing ..." or "other things ..."

Kyeran: Egg. In a dictionary there are a ton of words for egg. This one works in restaurants. I have no idea what the rest are.

Uyu: Milk. Kurim: Cream (duh), Aisu Kurim: Ice Cream (duh again)

**

Meog ji anhaso: Same as "meog ji anhayo," but changing the -yo to -so makes it a reason for doing something else. Here, "because I don't eat these things ,... " (followed by "please take them out," "bbego juseyo").

**

Hope you enjoyed it. Veggies in Seoul have some resources, like this one: http://seoulveggieclub.wordpress.com/.

The rest of you, though (like us Wonju-ites), best get to singin'

Conversations I Haven't Had in Korean: "How Far Along Are You?"

The other day, my yoga instructor told me she was pregnant. Well, not in those exact words. "Me -- baby," was what she said. I said "Congratulations" in English (I don't know it in Korean) and then "Choayo" (that's good).

Normally at this point the polite thing would be for me to ask how far along she was. She definitely wasn't showing. But how do I do that? "Onje yo?" Literally, when, could mean when it would be due or when it was conceived, and I probably cound guess from context (in the future or the past) what she meant, but it'd be better if I could ask "When + [due date or conception date]?"

Sadly I don't know any even polite terms for intercourse, much less conception, and that wouldn't be the most polite approach, anyway. I could ask when she was due maybe by saying "Onje ai sargesseoyo?" (Literally, when will it intend to live, because I don't know a proper future tense yet.) Maybe "Onje ai sarolkeoeyo?" (When will it probably live?) But neither of those are terribly polite.

Being fluent in the universal lecture of gestures, my next thought was to try to communicate by hand movement either (1) a baby being born or (2) a baby being conceived. The latter is easy, but again, impolite, and the former ... well the best I could do was either (a) make a circle with my hands and gesture, using a forearm, something large coming out, or (b) make a basketball hoop with with my hands/arms and poke my head through.

Then I thought, "Perhaps I could even combine the gestures and completely humiliate myself."

This left me with only the typical stranded foreigner option: Wait for someone else to relay the information to you, if you're lucky. This approach beats offending everyone in eyeshot and earshot, though.

(Of course, by the time I had figured all this out four other people had entered the room and we had already begun yoga class.)

Quote of the Day

"South Korea is a nation addicted to speed."

Credit: Arirang TV, in a special about motorcycle delivery in Seoul. If my school in Wonju can hire a handful of native speakers to teach, do you think maybe they could hire one to edit?

Golgulsa Temple Stay (Third Day)

At 4:00 a.m., crawling up a hill in the dark, you begin counting the hours until you leave boot camp temple. Your legs move out of stubborn will but remind you with every step that they'd rather not.

Eventually you make it to chanting, and follow along on the slow chant even though you're reading hangeul. Feeling brave, you try the same on the fast chant (for the musicians, think: syllables at around 140/minute or so) and quickly are lost. Out of boredom you make up your own words, partially cathartic, and partially reviewing recently-learned Korean words:

paegop'ayo, p'igonhaeyo,
sundubu chige meoggoship'eoyo, chagoship'oyo
ilbangt'onghaeng means "one-way street"
pissan ieyo, kakka juseyo
man-on, man-on, kakka juseyo
tari apayo, manhi apayo
(repeat)

English:
I'm hungy, I'm tired
I want to eat soft tofu stew, I want to sleep
"ilbang tonghang" means one-way street
that's expensive, give me a discount
10k won, 10k won, give me a discount
my legs hurt, they hurt a lot

And so on. The second full day, apart from the tiredness (lack of sleep) and aching body wasn't terribly distinguishable from the first but for the 108 bows.

The 108 bows, or baek-pal bae, are done to show humility, contemplate mistakes, and reflect on the decision to live rightly. These are not waist-bows. These are feet-together, in a controlled motion (read: using the legs) fall to the knees, press head to the floor, stand up in another controlled motion (same leg muscles), and repeat for 20 minutes bows. By halfway through your cushion is sweat-stained by your forehead. And then you have lunch, archery, chores, and training.

An aside on archery would fit nicely here, so I'm going to throw it in. It's fun. It's exhausting. Just pulling the bowstring back takes a fair bit of arm and back strength. Letting it fly with accuracy while you're shaking from the effort isn't easy by any means. Proper technique is essential--small failures result in scraped thumbs (from the arrow, your thumb acts as a bridge), or reddened arms (from the bowstring snapping them).

The rest of this story is pretty much the same, and will be omitted, as I am trying to keep this brief because there was a centipede on the cubicle next to me in the PC bang, now it is out of sight, and I fear it will pop up from the keyboard when I am not looking, and I will scream. More on Golgulsa and my return to Gyeongju (and the very excellent Yangdong folk village) soon.

[Pic: Sunmudo training center.]

Very Useful Korean Phrases

Bad travelers. We all know them. "Can I get a hot dog?" in a thick accent at a Parisian cafe. (Okay I've never witnessed that but it seems to illustrate the point.)

I am not one of them, so before coming to Korea I purchased Teach Yourself Korean with the hopes of studying a bit before I landed (and more after I did). Previously I used Teach Yourself Portuguese before a trip to Brazil and was quite pleased.

Teach Yourself Korean has yet, at unit 9 and 7 months of study, to teach me to ask "Where is the bathroom?" ("Hwachangshil odieyo?") I learned that phrase on my own, without the use of the mini-dictionary in the back of it, because bathroom (or any synonym for it) is NOT IN the mini dictionary.

However, I have learned the following:
"Wonsungi-nun p'iryo opseoyo." ("I don't need a monkey.")
"Sashil, sul-i yak-poda teo choayo." ("The fact is, booze is better than medicine.")
"Shikkureowoyo." ("Shut up!" Literally, "It's noisy.")
"Oje bam kieok opseoyo." ("I don't remember last night.")
"Che changnyeok-un cheonggi myeondogi-rul sasseosseosseoyo." ("We bought him an electric shaver last year.")

Armed with these phrases I can create more complicated and useful expressions such as:
"Oje bam-un cheonggi wonsungi-rul sasseosseosseoyo." ("We bought him an electric monkey last night.")
"Kieok-un p'iryo opseoyo." ("I don't need to remember.")

and

"Sashil, shikkureowoyo." ("Really, you need to shut up." Lit., "The fact is, it's noisy.")

At this point I should interject that Teach Yourself Korean, in its introduction, proudly proclaims that it is not another "traveler's Korean" or a Korean treatise. Rather, it (and I am paraphrasing from memory): "Will seek to teach you how to speak Korean the way Koreans really speak Korean." My experience has been that booze is a favored activity and topic of conversation. However, none of my intoxicated evenings have led to monkey-buying or mid-blackout electric shaving. They have, however, all involved a need for a restroom.