Losing Face -- What Does it Mean?

Before you come to Korea, you know "face" and "losing face." But one thing most people don't know is what it really means.

It's like dying. Linguistically.

The Korean term for losing face is "망신" ("mangshin") using a character (mang) that means "death" (망할 망) and a character (shin) that means "body" (몸 신). If clearer examples are needed, let me say this: The same (Chinese-root) "mang" is used for physical death and the same "shin" is used for a physical checkup.

Thus we can say that losing face is equal to death. Or at the very least, "I almost died" and not in the valley-girl or ironic sense.

Soon-to-come posts will discuss Confucianism, indirectness, and other aspects of Korean society that remain only marginally comprehensible to the author but automatic for most of his nation-state coinhabitants.

[And you can thank me in the comments for not beginning a repost session (after a 14-month hiatus) with a passage about "oh I didn't have the time" because I did, I just didn't feel like it.]

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.

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.]

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'

No Meat Doesn't Mean No Meat

This is from an actual conversation, with what I would consider to be a realtively intelligent and open-minded group of women:

"I don't eat meat."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"Do you like chicken?"

"I don't eat chicken."

(Muttering in disbelief.)

"What about pig?"

"I also don't eat pig. I don't eat any meat."

(Group muttering in disbelief; some discussion of where they could go that I could eat.)

You see, in Korea, especially in non-Seoul Korea, vegetarianism is a relatively new thing. Not eating something, especially something as expensive as meat, is strange. Furthermore, "meat" doesn't mean "meat." It means cow meat. Chicken meat is something else, and pig? Let's just say that the attached picture (coming soon) is of a "veggie roll." And yes, that is ham and imitation crab inside of it.

As we were hiking down a mountain and going to go to lunch, I thought it might be a good idea to mention to the group that I did not eat ANY animal products, so I went on:

"I also don't eat fish."

"No fish? What about fish cake?"

"No fish cake, either. No seafood."

"No clam?"

"No clam or shrimp."

At this point, the entire group became intently focused on, as nearly as I could tell, discussing where we were going to eat. I had made the choice nearly impossible, or so I thought, and wanted to explain that I could just eat side dishes or snack a bit, but my Korean was not that good. (And Koreans would never let such a polite offering be accepted, anyway.)

Going on to seafood, generally if you say you don't eat fish or seafood you can avoid the seafood but sometimes it's not considered food--e.g., shrimp put in tofu stew is "flavoring," not serving you shrimp. So you have to ask for it to be taken out. And then sometimes you'll be told the dish can't be made (as you are removing an essential flavor) or the shrimp simply won't be taken out because your Korean was that bad and no-one could understand you.

Oh, and fish cake. You see, fish cake isn't fish. It's fish cake. This, logically, makes a fair bit of sense. Those frozen fish sticks you buy in the west have very little to do with actual fish except that at some point in time, some meager offering of fish parts was heavily processed to make them. As far as I can tell, Korean fish cake is the same thing, except that Koreans generally don't recognize that any fish went into the production of fish cake.

In Korea, I have to thank my lack of commitment and dedication. Normally my tendency to half-ass the difficult things in life has cost me dearly, but being a "sensible" vegan (who will pick the potatoes out of chicken stew or pick the clams and shrimp out of tofu stew and set them aside) has kept me from starvation. Or rather, kept me from a boring and unhealthy just-rice-and-kim-chi diet.

Soon, though I hope to offer a catchy way of getting all those things out of your meal: English Songs for Vegetarians in Korea, or whatever catchy title I can think of by the next update.

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.