Korean Funeral Tradition

Dear Korean,

I just found out that my boss's mother has died in Korea. I've heard that it's customary to give money to the person who has lost a loved one, but I've known my boss for 2 years and it just seems insensitive to me if all I did was give him some money. Why do Koreans do that? Is there something else that I can do that is more personal?

Little White Girl

Dear Little White Girl,

It may seem insensitive, but Koreans are practical folks. Sad fact of life, or the end thereof, is that funerals cost money. The nice thing to do would be to help out with the costs. Of course, nothing stops people from doing things more personal, like writing cards or helping the funeral preparation. But as far as Korean folks are concerned, money in a white envelope that says 謹弔 is enough. (The Chinese characters roughly mean “I am sorry for your loss.”)

A side effect of the custom of giving money (the money itself is called bujo) is that the family of the deceased should only give the official notice of the funeral (called bugo) to those close to the deceased and the family. Because those who received the notice is expected to attend the funeral and give money, it is bad manners to give the notice to mere acquaintances.

Some more about what Korean funerals look like. Korean funerals traditionally had a very long and elaborate procedure, but modern Korean funerals are simplified, and often adjusted for religious beliefs, especially among Christians.

Korean funerals generally last three days. When a person dies, first the body is set in a straight position and covered in a white sheet. Then it is put behind a partition. In front of the partition, a small table is set up with a photo of the deceased and incenses. Then the person’s death is announced. Official notice of the funeral is sent out, and a sign is hung on the front door of the house.

First son of the deceased assumes the role of sangju, basically the master of ceremonies. Traditionally the sangju would wear clothes and hat made out of hemp, but nowadays they simply wear a black suit and the hemp hat. The relatives of the dead are also supposed to wear the hemp clothes, but that part is now generally omitted. Both sangju and the relatives are supposed to wear a black ribbon either on the chest or on an arm, but now only sangju wears it. (Picture came from a Korean funeral house, which advertises that it rents the traditional garb.)

On the second day, sangju arranges for cleaning of the body, which is usually done at a funeral home. Koreans don’t embalm the dead. The body is cleaned and dressed – there is a traditional garb for the dead, but suits are commonplace in modern Korea.

After the body is dressed, it is put in a casket. The casket is again set behind a partition or a black curtain, and a table with the photo of the deceased, candles, and incense is set up. A black ribbon is put on the photo at this time. Sangju sits next to the table on a coarse mat – the mat is coarse because sangju must atone for the sin of allowing his parent to die.

Then is the time for visitors. Visitors wear black suits as American mourners would. Mourners first light a stick of incense at the table, bow at the table, then sangju and the guest bow at each other. Traditionally sangju, as a sinner, is supposed to remain quiet for the entire proceeding, but now they are allowed to say brief thanking words to the guests. As they are leaving, visitors leave the envelop with money in a designated box.

On the morning of the third day, the casket leaves the house. Before it leaves, a short ceremony is held in the honor of the dead – if you were trying to find one ceremony called “funeral” in a Korean death ritual, this would be it. The personal history of the deceased is told, and people eulogize and offer incense.

Traditionally, sangju and his relatives carried the casket all the way to the burying ground, but now Koreans use a hearse. The casket is taken to a pre-arranged burial ground, which is near other family members' burial sites. (See picture.) Typically, an extended family owns a small mountain and sets up burial sites for the entire family, past, present and future. The Korean himself already knows where he will be buried when he dies. Believe it or not, the thought is somewhat comforting.

After the casket is lowered, sangju throws dirt on the casket three times. Then the grave is fully filled, and a little mound is built on top of the grave. The mound is then covered in grass. On the right bottom side of the mound, a small stone with the name of the dead is buried so that the grave can be identified even though the mound is eroded away. The tombstone is set up in front of the grave, and brief ceremony is held once again.

But technically, the official funeral is not over after 3 days. Sangju keeps wearing the black ribbon for 100 days; traditionally everyone who had to wear to hemp garb had to keep them on for 100 days, but that does not happen anymore. After 100 days, a memorial ceremony for the dead is held, and the funeral is finally over.

Got a question or comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@hotmail.com.

Spin That Pen, DJ Korean

Dear Korean,

A friend of mine, a former U.S. Marine, was stationed in Korea and he once asked me why all Korean guys are able to spin pens with their fingers. Unfortunately, I do not have this ability even though I’m Korean and wasn’t able to give him an answer. However, I did attempt to do the pen-spinning trick for him, but I nearly took out his eye.

Anyway, I have noticed that many of my Korean friends can do this and I’m wondering where it stems from. Is this a sign of our incredible finger dexterity (which I’m apparently lacking) or do we just get bored easily?

The Other Korean

Dear Other Korean,

How dare you rip off the Korean’s name? We will have to settle the superiority of our Koreanness at some point – it will probably involve a drinking competition.

There are several types of pen-spinning tricks that young Koreans do. (It’s not just guys, by the way.) The Korean himself can only do the simplest one, the 360-degree turn. Other more difficult ones include the 180-degree turn and the climber. (The pen is initially held between middle and ring fingers, and the pen flips up into its normal position between index and middle fingers. Double-climber is also possible, flipping up twice starting from ring and pinky fingers.)

A 360-degree turn is really primitive compared to the difficulty and the visual effect of a double climber, but the Korean was able to amaze a lot of Americans while he was mindlessly spinning his pen, thinking about something else. Then the Korean was surprised because Americans, no matter how they tried, couldn’t do the simplest spin.

Why is that? One possibility could be the famous “chopstick dexterity” theory. The theory was that because Asian Americans are trained to manipulate chopsticks since very young, they are good at precise digit controls. In fact, this is one of the theories of the 1980s that explained why Japan could make such amazingly precise electronics.

But this theory is just too hokey to be true. If that were true, what are the equivalent theories for precise German optics or precise Swiss watches? That good-quality beer actually helps hand-eye coordination?

No one knows for certain, but the Korean’s own theory is that pen-spinning is developed in the same way as chip-shuffling by poker players develop. On an average poker table at a casino, there would always be a select few who put on a show without playing any hands. They would get two or more stacks of chips and bring them up into a single tower, roll multiple chips from one hand to the other, and so on and so forth. How can they do it?

First, of course, they have digit dexterity (which one does not need to master chopsticks usage to have.) But more importantly, they are in a similar situation as young Koreans – namely, they have to sit at a table/desk for a very, very long time.

The Korean will devote a post to the life as a student in Korea, but for the purpose of this post it suffices to say that the student life in Korea is pretty miserable. Until very recently, Korean students went to school six days a week, including Saturdays. High school students still have classes on Saturday. Some high schools begin very early and finish extremely late. The school that the Korean went began at 7:30 a.m. and finished at 11 p.m. No joke. The school also averaged one suicide per year. In most cases, students of all levels attend private tutoring every day for hours.

(As a side note, this makes it pretty difficult for the Korean to listen to the whining of American high school students. Whatever effort that American high school students put in to get into a good college, on average, has nothing, absolutely nothing on what average Korean high school students do.)

All this means that Korean students spend an inordinate amount of time sitting in front of a desk, easily 10 hours a day at least. But human attention span has its limits, so there has to be different ways to entertain yourself. Some students doodle, some students pass notes, and some practice spinning a pen, the only thing that can legitimately be on the desk. (The Korean supposes there could be books on the desk as well, but spinning a book is too noticeable.)

By the way, as of 2008, the Korean has lived in America for more than 10 years. The Korean heard that the way schools are in Korea has undergone some drastic changes, but doesn’t have the full details yet. Any update would be more than welcome.

Got a question or comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@hotmail.com.

There are MORE Questions about Korean Names???

Dear Korean,

This might be a silly question to ask, but why do Korean Americans have both a Korean and English name? Is it to remind them they are still Korean in a dominantly English speaking country? Are Korean names their given middle name for use in the Korean home while their English name is used for outside?

C

Dear C,

It is not a silly question to ask. This is a silly question to ask.

It is true that many Korean Americans, and even Koreans in Korea nowadays, have English names. The reason is different for each Korean, but it is mostly because Americans just can’t pronounce some Korean names.

There are some tricky sounds in Korean that English speakers just can’t emulate - the verb sound eu, for example. (See this post for the way to pronounce it.) This is a problem because a syllable like seung, meaning “victory” or “rising”, is very popular in Korean names. (The Korean has total 10 nephews and nieces, and 5 of them have that syllable in their names.)

Similarly, some Korean names appear deceptively simple to pronounce, but English way of pronouncing it would make the name sound completely incorrect. This happens mostly because English is a screwed up language. An easy example is Kim Young-Sam, the name of a former Korean president. The last syllable sam is supposed to be pronounced like “psalm”, because a in Romanized Korean should sound like a in “avocado”. But of course, Americans don’t pronounce it correctly, and it sounds ridiculous. (This was the Korean’s reason why he picked up an English name.)

From a Korean’s perspective, after you told her your name, it’s really painful to see an American person struggle, or to correct her a million times to say your name right. If an American person can’t pronounce the name, she won’t remember your name either. And socially, that has a negative consequence.

In fact, because of this, we are now seeing an increasing number of Asians who simply have an English name to go by when they talk to Americans, even if those Asians speak very little English! The Korean swears that he knows a Chinese person whose English capacity is limited to saying, “Hi, my name is Jerry” in heavy accent.

One interesting variation from this reason is instead of acquiring an English name, Koreans would just drop one of the syllables in their first name, which is usually two syllables, leaving only the more pronounceable one. So for example, there are many Koreans who go by Joon, Jin, Young, Yoon, Min, etc., except no one in Korea would call them by that name.

Your other guesses are also correct. Korean American parents recognize that in order for their children to be treated like an American, they have to have an English name, if only to save their children from the hassle of idiots complimenting their English. But they give a Korean middle name in order to remind the children of their heritage. In many cases, the parents will use the Korean name at home, and let the children use the English names outside.

So what kind of American names do Korean people tend to use? There are two biggest factors driving the name selection for Korean Americans: first, Koreans Americans tend to be Christians; second, Korean American parents need to be able to pronounce their children’s names.

Therefore, a Korean American name tends to be a biblical one without such difficult sounds for Koreans as th – so you will be hard pressed to find a Jonathan Kim. For boys, names like John, James, Paul, Daniel are very popular. For girls, the popular names are Jennifer (Jenny), Julie, Christine, Grace, etc.

The real jackpot is those Korean names that coincide with English names, most notably Hannah and Eugene. The Korean knows 5 separate Hannahs and 4 separate Eugenes, all of them Korean.

Alternatively, Korean American parents would name their children with Korean names with easier syllable for Americans to read, like Nari, Minji, etc. (These apply more toward girls’ names, because boys’ names tend to follow a more rigid rule. That will be a post for another day – how many posts can the Korean possibly do on Korean names??)

Got a question or comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@hotmail.com.

More about Korean Names

Note: See another post about Korean last names here.

Dear Korean,

My mother's side of the family is from Korea. My mother always says to be very proud of my Korean last name Kim. My mother and grandmother told me our family "Kim" comes from the "An Dong Kim she." What is that supposed to mean? When I ask my grandmother she says her great grandfather was Kim An Dong. She says he was someone very famous and our family comes from the royal family. Is that true? And if so can you tell me a little about this man?

Jen D.

Dear Jen,

The Korean dearly hopes that you are no older than 12 years old, given the incredibly poor grammar through which your email was written. (The Korean fixed it up.) Bad grammar by Americans kills a little part of the Korean's soul -- the Korean spent all that effort learning English, and Americans can get away with incorrect English? (If you are indeed younger than 12, cover your eyes whenever you see a foul language on this site.)

But your question supplements a post that the Korean wrote a while back, so it's worth addressing. The effort that Korean people put into their last names truly redefines the concept of sticking with your family.

Let's start from the top. Why do we have names? Simple - for the purpose of identification. But the way in which we identify ourselves has changed drastically over time, and Korean last names are prime examples.

Now, imagine yourself being in a world two millennia older, when Korea first began. Farming was the only way to live, and you are tied to your land. Therefore, you generally live around your extended family. Nonetheless, from time to time you run into strangers. What is the way in which you identify yourself that succintly gives the maximum information of who you are? Answer: you tell who your family is. That way, you convey the information about where you live, and who you live with.

This is not exclusively a Korean phenomenon. The same process happened with Anglo last names such as Ford and Underwood. Mr. Ford used to live by a stream, and Mr. Underwood lived downhill from the wood. The difference between Mr. Ford and Mr. Kim, however, is that Mr. Kim knows exactly who the first Mr. Kim was.

In other words, each last name in Korea has one clear starting point. For example, father of all Kims is a man named Kim Suro. "Kim" originally means gold. Why gold? Because the very first Kim (really "Gim" in Korean pronunciation,) i.e. Gim Suro, was born from a golden egg.

So at first, it was possible to identify yourself as, say, Kim-ssi 5-dae-son. Ssi means Mister. (It's the same word that Jen mis-Romanized as "she". Although ssi is now used for both men and women, it only meant Mister in the old days.) Dae means "generation", and son means "offspring." So when you say "I am a Kim-ssi 5-dae-son," you are saying that "I am Mr. Kim, and I am 5th generation offspring from the very first Kim."

Simple enough? But there's more. As time passed by, clans grew and split up. Especially for a big clan like Kims, it was not enough to say "I'm in the Kim clan" -- you needed more in order to identify yourself. So people began adding the name of the region in which they clustered. Sometimes the region might be the place where the clan simply happened to live; other times, the region is a gift of land given from the king to the head of the clan. It's important to note that just like clans, each subclan has a single starting point. "Andong" is a region in southeastern Korea. So when you say you are an "Andong Kim", that means you are a Kim clan member, originally from Andong region.

Therefore, Jen, what your grandmother said does not make sense -- there is no one named "Kim Andong," as Andong is a name of a place, not a person. What she may have meant was that her great-grandfather was the very first Andong Kim, i.e. the starting point. But that doesn't make sense either, because that would make you Andong Kim-ssi 7-daeson, i.e. 7th generation Andong Kim. Right now, Andong Kim is at around 29th~31st generation. But read on, because there's more.

Even the regional designation was not enough as subclans got bigger. Currently, the largest Kim clan is Gimhae Kims, which has more than 4 million members. So people began to add sub-subclan designation, called "-pa" (literally means "branch".) "pa" is usually preceded by a name of a famous person. Imagine yourself in old Korea again. A famous person, usually a high official to the king or a distant relative of the king, gets a large tract of land and huge house. All of his family would live off that land and house. So that's another good identifier.

But there's even more!! pa could branch off even more, if it gets long enough. In such a case, the root-pa is designated as "hu". So the full Korean last name actually looks like this:

[region] [last name]-ssi [subclan]-hu [sub-sub-clan]-pa [number]-daeson.

Let's try and apply this. If the Korean were to live roughly 300 years ago, this is how he would identify himself:

Milyang Bak-ssi Gyujeonggong-hu Nakbonggong-pa 26-daeson.

Milyang is a region in southeastern Korea. Bak is usually Romanized in English as Park, and that's the Korean's regular last name. Gyujeonggong was a high official to the king, and so was Nakbonggong. The Korean himself is 26th generation offspring from Nakbonggong - i.e. Nakbonggong's grandson to the 26th power. (The Korean knows this is not exactly correct, but please don't nitpick about math. The Korean hates math.)

This allows people to count exactly how far the Korean is removed from the very first Park/Bak. For example, the first Milyang Bak, Prince Milseong, was 30 generations removed from Bak Hyeokgeose, the first Park. The first Milyang Bak Gyujeonggong-pa (Gyujeonggong himself) was 15 generations removed from Prince Milseong. The first Milyang Bak Gyujeonggong-hu Nakbonggong-pa (again, Nakbonggong himself) was 10 generations removed from Gyujeonggong when he branched off. The Korean is 26 generations removed from Nakbonggong. That makes the Korean 81 generations removed (30+15+10+26) from the very first Park.

(All those information is kept and updated in a book called jokbo, literally meaning "family book." The head of each pa is in charge of keeping and updating jokbo.)

Take a step back and think about how incredible this is. Sure, this is a sexist system, because women are not counted. Sure, modern-day Koreans mostly don't really care about tracing their clan names. But just think about it. If each generation is roughly 30 years, the Korean has the knowledge of every single grandfathers, uncles, and cousins for the last 2,400 years! Twenty-four hundred years! Can you even imagine how amazing it is to definitely know that a part of yourself can be traced to a single person who lived 24 centuries ago?

But you asked about Andong Kim. There are actually two families with the names Andong Kim. They are distinguished as Gu-Andong Kim and Sin-Andong Kim, meaning old and new Andong Kim. Both families put together produced 19 jeongseung (= Prime Minister), 6 daejehak (= National Scholar), and 3 queens during Joseon Dynasty, the most recent dysnasty of Korea before it was colonized by Japan.

The new Andong Kim family was especially powerful in the late phase of Joseon Dynasty. The queens of the three Korean kings from 1790 to 1834 were all from Andong Kim family. None of three kings was especially a strong leader, allowing their in-laws wield power by proxy. The strength of Andong Kim family survived into modern era, as it includes very prominent independence movement leaders such as General Kim Jwajin.

Got a question or comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@hotmail.com.

Korean Language Lessons - Particle I (Classificational Particles)

See the past Korean language series here: Methodology Reading and Writing

WARNING: You should be able to see typed Korean language in order to fully read this post. If you are a Windows user, you can go to Microsoft's website and download the "East Asian Language Support". Ask your local computer nerd. Entice him with a woman and it will be easy. If you are a Mac user, enjoy your cute commercials.

MORE WARNING: The Korean never received formal education as to how to teach Korean to non-Korean speakers. Therefore, all the technical terminology that the Korean uses in this post (as well as in other Korean Language Series) are made up by the Korean. Additionally, the Korean will often be wrong about things. But hey, that’s the price you pay if you try to learn a foreign language from an amateur off a blog.

Dear Korean,

Why do Koreans add an "ah" sound to the end of a name? For example, "Hee Jin-ah," or “Kyung Min-ah”. I know that "si" is used like a Mr. or Miss, but why add the "ah?"

JR

Dear JR,

I bet you didn’t expect a Korean language lesson for your question, but the answer for your question has directly to do with one of the most important and difficult features in Korean language – particles.

The Korean must give this warning: Particles are pretty difficult. It is a very unique grammatical tool, and often adds the subtlest nuances in speech. The good news? The only two very tough things in Korean language are particles and verb conjugation. So once you master particles, you are halfway there.

There are three types of particles: classificational, conjunctional, and auxiliary. The first one is relatively easier to understand, so we will deal with particles in two parts. This part will be about classificational particles, and the next part will be about conjunctional and auxiliary particles.

Universal Grammar: How to Learn Any Foreign Language.

Given this is the first grammar lesson, it would be useful for the Korean to map out how exactly he will approach Korean grammar. In short, the Korean plans to teach Korean language along the lines of the universal grammar.

What is universal grammar? It’s what made Noam Chomsky famous. Chomsky theorized that all human languages, no matter how different they may appear, share the same essential features. Chomsky’s work is extremely abstract and theoretical, but for our practical purposes it suffices to say that there are only seven components to any human language. They are:

- Subject: Made up of noun phrases (S)
- Predicate: Made up of verb phrases, either active or stative (P)
- Object: Made up of noun phrases (O)
- Adjective phrases (AjP)
- Adverbial phrases (AvP)
- Conjunctions (C)
- Exclamations (E)

That’s it. Really, that’s it. Even the most complex sentence in any language in the world in any historical period can be broken down into these seven parts. For example, here is the first sentence of the Gettysburg Address, broken down into the parts:

AvP:[Four score and seven years ago] S:[our fathers] P:[brought forth] AvP:[on this continent] O:[a new nation,] AjP:[conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.]

For another example, here is the first sentence of the Declaration of Independence, made by Korean leaders against the Japanese rule in 1919, broken down:

S:[吾等(오등)은] AvP:[玆(자)에] AjP:[我(아) 朝鮮(조선)의] O:[獨立國(독립국)임]C:[과] AjP:[朝鮮人(조선인)의] O:[自主民(자주민)임을] P:[宣言(선언)하노라.] (“We hereby declare that Korea is an independent nation and Korean people are sovereign people.”)

This is such a significant discovery that it bears repeating in caps: ALL HUMAN LANGUAGES ARE MADE UP OF THESE SEVEN PARTS OF SPEECH.

Then what makes languages different? The only difference is the way the seven parts are organized. So learning any grammar is basically about how the seven parts of language are marked and organized. This is where we are going to begin.

Classificational Particles: Man bites dog, in three different languages.

To understand the function of classificational particles, let’s start from what we know first, i.e. English. Consider the following two sentences.

- Dog bites man.
- Man bites dog.

English speakers don’t have to think very hard to know that they mean two different things. One sentence is newsworthy, and the other is not. But step back and think about it. “Dog” in the first sentence is the same as “dog” in the second sentence. So how do we know the first “dog” is the biter (i.e. subject), while the second “dog” is the bitee (i.e. object)? In other words, how does English language note the fact that the same word is used for different parts of speech?

Answer: English speakers know by the placement of the noun with respect to the verb. If a noun comes before the verb, it is the subject of the sentence. If a noun comes after the verb, it is the object of the sentence. In other words, English sentences are “order-sensitive.”

(Aside: The king of order-sensitive language is Chinese, where even certain adverbs like time and place have to be in a certain place, or the sentence doesn’t make sense. In English, it doesn’t matter if you say “I will meet you in the building at 9 a.m.” or “In the building I will meet you at 9 a.m.” But in Chinese, only “At 9 a.m. in the building I will meet you” is correct – if you translate it strictly, it’s more like “9 a.m. in building I meet you.”)

But consider the same two sentences in Latin, which is not an order-sensitive language.

- Canis hominem mordet. (Dog bites man.)
- Homo canem mordet. (Man bites dog.)

Here, both “canis” and “canem” mean “dog”, and “homo” and “hominem” mean “man.” Do you see how in Latin, the order of the word does not matter? It does not matter because the noun is conjugated to show whether it is a subject or an object. If a noun form ends in “-em”, it is the object. No conjugation, and it is the subject. So take the second sentence, and switch the word order around, and they still make perfect sense. “Homo canem mordet” and “canem homo mordet” mean the exact same thing.

(Aside No. 2: This is all directly from The Language Instinct by Steven Pinker. It’s the best book to read if you were ever curious about languages.)

Korean is essentially the same with Latin, but with this difference: Instead of conjugating the noun, Korean language adds a “particle” at the end of the noun to show which one of the seven parts of language it belongs to. So in Korean, just like Latin, the word order does not matter. Here are the same two sentences in Korean.

- 개가 사람을 물다. Gae-ga saram-eul mulda. (Dog bites man.)
- 사람이 개를 물다. Saram-i gae-reul mulda. (Man bites dog.)

Recognize the nouns first. “Gae” is “dog”, and “saram” is “man/person”. You can see that in the first sentence, the particle “ga”, attached to “gae” shows that “gae” is the subject; the particle “eul” attached to “saram” shows that “saram” is the object. So “gae-ga saram-eul mulda” and “saram-eul gae-ga mulda” mean the exact same thing, just like Latin.

Let’s go back to what we know. English has something pretty similar to particles: prepositions. Nouns in a sentence, except subjects and objects, need a preposition to explain what the noun is doing in the sentence. For example, consider the sentence: “She walked to the park”. This is different from “She walked the park.” – in fact, that sentence makes no sense, because there is no preposition telling us what “the park” is doing in that sentence. The “to” in front of “the park” tells us that “the park” is functioning as an adverb – it is describing the manner of the verb, i.e. “walk”.

English has a similar feature as Latin as well, because you can actually conjugate nouns in English. To show plurals, we generally conjugate the noun by adding “s” or “es”. “Cup” can be changed to “cups.” Noun is also conjugated to show possessives by adding “’s”. So a cup belonging to Mary is “Mary’s cup.” (You can also say that this is not really a conjugation, but a form of particles in English.)

In Korean, all the above-named functions—showing the function of a noun in a sentence or showing a certain feature of the noun—are done by particles. So remember: In correct Korean grammar, A NOUN CANNOT STAND ALONE WITHOUT A PARTICLE.

JR, here is the answer to your question before we go any further. Why do Korean people attach “ah” to people’s names? Because people’s names are nouns, and they cannot stand alone without a particle. “ah” or “ya” are called “Exclamatory Particles” – they attach to a noun to show that this noun is an exclamation. The full list of all classificational particles are in the later part of this post.

(Aside No. 3 – Interesting thing about the Korean language, because of the existence of particles: Often, Korean sentences would be complete without a subject, just like Spanish. This is because even without the subject, all the particles in the sentence make the functions of all parts really clear.)

Advanced Stuff: Read Only If You Are Hardcore

The Korean's Note: No matter how hard the Korean tried, it was really difficult to come up with a neat chart of particles like the Korean made with Korean pronunciation, mostly because each particle has different nuances, which would require too many example sentences, and also because there are a ton of adverbial particles compared to others. Honestly, if you came this far into learning Korean, the Korean recommends buying an actual Korean grammar book written by professionals. But for a quick reference, the list below would work. The Korean also welcomes questions, as always -- but don't expect him to do your homework.

Note on the Following List: The choice of many particles depends on whether the preceding noun ends in a batchim or not. For example, the particle to indicate that a noun is a subject is either “i” or “ga”. “i” is used with a noun that ends in batchim, and “ga” is used with a noun that ends without batchim. So if you want to say “I did it”, it’s nae-ga haetda. But if you want to say “Jane did it”, it’s jae-in-i haetda. If you see particles divided by a slash, assume that the first one is used for nouns that end in batchim, and the second is for ones that do not.

Complete List of All Classificational Particles

a. Subjective particle: 이/가. Attach these things to show that a noun is a subject of the sentence. See the “dog bites man” sentences above for an example.

b. Objective particle: 을/를. Attach these things to show that a noun is an object of the sentence. See the “dog bites man” sentences above for an example.

c. Adjective particle: 의. Attach it to make a possessive or an adjective out of a noun.
E.g. 메리의 컵 ( “Mary’s cup”)

d. Predicatory particle: 이다/다. Attach these things to a noun in order to form a predicate. This actually has the same function as “be” in English.
E.g. 내가 범인이다. (“I am the criminal.”)
Beomin means “criminal/perpetrator”, so ida attached at the end of beomin makes the noun into a predicate, which explains the subject. This particle is special because it conjugates like a verb. We will deal with verb conjugation in a later post.

e. Exclamatory particle: 아/야, 이여/여. These particles attach on a noun to turn the noun into an independent exclamatory phrase. See the question of the day for an example.

f. Adverbial particle: Adverbial particles are roughly equivalent to prepositions in English, because many prepositions make an adverbial phrase out of a noun. There are a lot of these, so be ready.

1. destination – 에 (place+), 에게, 한테 (person+). Shows that the attached noun is the destination of the object. These are similar to “on”, “to”, or “toward”.
e.g. 그가 너에게 연필을 주었다. (“He gave a pencil to you.”) 내가 공을 벽에 던졌다. (“I threw the ball on the wall.”)

2. aspiration – 에, 으로/로 (place+), 에게로, 한테로 (person+). Shows that the attached noun is the eventual destination of the subject. Similar to “toward”.
e.g. 컵이 바닥에 떨어졌다. (“Cup fell on the floor.”) 그녀가 그에게로 갔다. (“She went to him.”)

3. origination – 에서 (place+), 한테서, 에게서/게서 (person+), 으로부터/로부터 (place, person+). Shows that the attached noun is the starting place of something. These are similar to “from”.
e.g. 내가 연필을 그에게서 받았다. (“I received a pencil from him.”), 그는 낸터캣에서 왔다. (“He came from Nantucket.”)

4. transition – 으로/로. Shows the attached noun is the end product of a transformation. Similar to “to” or “into”
e.g. 밤이 낮으로 바뀌었다. (“Night turned into day.”)

5. means – 로, 으로서/로서. Shows that the attached noun is a means to an end. These are similar to “with”.
e.g. 그녀가 사과를 칼로 깎았다. (“She peeled an apple with a knife.”)

6. capacity – 로, 으로써/로써. Shows that the attached noun is operating in a certain capacity. Similar to “as”.
e.g. 그가 친구로써 말했다. (“He spoke as a friend.”)

7. cause – 으로/로. Shows that the attached noun is the cause of something. Similar to “because of"
e.g. 그는 감기로 고생했다. (“He suffered because of a cold.”)

8. companion – 와/과, 하고, 랑/이랑. Shows the attached noun is a companion of something. Similar to “with”
e.g. 그가 학교에 친구와 갔다. (“He went to school with a friend.”)

9. direct quote – 라고. Shows the attached noun is a direct quotation.
e.g. 그가 “가자”라고 말했다 (“He said ‘let’s go’.”)

10. indirect quote – 고. Shows the attached noun is an indirect quotation.
e.g. 그가 가자고 말했다. (“He said let’s go.”)

11. comparison – 와/과, 만큼, 보다, 처럼. Shows the attached noun is greater than, less than, or the same as another noun.
e.g. 그의 키는 나의 키보다 크다. (“His height is greater than my height.”)

Got a question or comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@hotmail.com.

"What's his name? I don't know, I can't read his neck."

Dear Korean,

I'm planning on getting a tattoo in Korean. I'm Korean so its legit, but I just want to know why most Koreans find tattoos so offensive. My mom is totally against it and will kill me if she finds out.

Lina

Dear Korean,

I recently earned my Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do. I am very proud of my accomplishment, and was also considering getting a tattoo to commemorate the years of perseverance and hard work it took to acheive that goal. I thought it would be fitting for the symbol to be in Korean, as I understand Tae Kwon Do originated in Korea. I don't, however, want to be one of those fools who has 'dumbass' tattooed on their body when they think it means 'indomitable spirit'!! What are your thoughts on this trend, and do you think it would be offensive or shocking to a person if Korean heritage? I don't mean to be a Korean 'wannabe', just proud of my accomplishment. The tattoo definitely won't be on my neck!!

C

Dear Lina and C,

This post about Prince Fielder's neck tattoo in Korean is really what made this blog take off (and not any of the Korean's erudite and well-reasoned observations on culture -- sad, but the Korean will take whatever he can get.) "Korean tattoo" is one of the most common Google search terms for this blog, along with "ask a korean", "korean men" and "korean porn."

First, a little bit about tattoos in Korea generally. Simply put, tattoos are just not a Korean thing to do. Traditionally (starting from 15th century or so), Korean people strictly followed this Confucian teaching: "Keep your body whole, for it is given to you by your father and mother." Even cutting hair or shaving was forbidden in an effort to keep your body whole. (Women put their hair in various decorative braids; men put their hair in a single knot that was tied at the top of their head, and wore a headgear that kept the knot in place.)

Korea was modernized eventually, but attitudes about making marks on one's body did not change much. (Except, of course, for plastic surgery lately.) Yet tattooing was in fact fairly common in a nearby country that all Koreans hate more than anyone else -- you guessed it, Japan. Organized criminals in Japan used extensive tattooing in order to mark the "families" to which they belonged, and organized criminals in Korea began to mimic such practices. As a result, until very recently, only people who had tattoos in Korea were thugs. Below is a picture of freshly arrested organized criminals in Korea.

So it really should not be surprising that Koreans have a very negative attitude toward tattooing. How negative is it? Being of a non-doctor tattooist is actually illegal in Korea, and carries roughly $3,000 of fine because tattooing is "unlicensed medical practice." (This law is not very often enforced, but it's in the book.) Excessive tattoos on a body is one of the ways to get out of the mandatory military service for men, along with torn ACL, missing index finger and schizophrenia, because excessive tattoos "create disharmony in the unit."

But like everything, attitude toward tattooing in Korea is changing recently. Henna tattoos are very available near any college campus, just like the U.S. It is not difficult at all to find tattooists in the middle of Seoul -- although they still mostly operate in the shadow. Fashionable tattoos are generally accepted among the young generation of Korea -- but don't expect older Korean folks to like you if you got sleeves.

What about Korean tattoos in the U.S.? Would a tattoo in Korean on a non-Korean person be offensive? In the Korean's opinion, probably not. For Koreans, non-Koreans operate in a separate plane of reality -- "our" rules don't apply to "them". After all, these foreign barbarians don't bow to their elders and keep their shoes on in a house -- who cares if they want to look like criminals? If anything, a tattoo in Korean would be mildly amusing to an average Korean, since Korean people don't expect non-Koreans to know anything about Korea. A Korean tattoo would signal your interest in Korean culture, however minimally, so it would not necessarily be a bad thing.

What does the Korean think about all this? That's a tough question. The Korean himself has no objection to tattoos in general. The Korean hates it when people get Asian letters just for the sake of their "exotic" appearance, because that's the precisely the type of attitude that keeps Asian Americans from feeling comfortable in America. But recently, like C, tattoos in Asian lettering often show a genuine attempt in understanding more about Asian culture -- the Korean welcomes that.

And then there's the "gut reaction" problem. Americans generally don't get a tattoo in plain English because plain words are not cryptic enough -- it's just not interesting. The gut reaction of an average American, if she saw the words "perseverance" tattooed on one's chest in Times New Roman font, would be that it looks silly. Well, the Korean can read Korean and Chinese, so tattoos in Korean and Chinese are not cryptic at all. So the Korean's gut reaction toward such tattoos are that they just look stupid. This is what the Korean wrote when he first saw Prince Fielder's neck tattoo: "It is as if some regular Korean dude was hanging out and drinking with Prince Fielder one night, then Fielder passes out, and the Korean dude picked up a marker and wrote it on his neck as a joke." The Korean can never shake that feeling whenever he sees a tattoo in Asian characters.

At any rate, what the hell do you care about what the Korean thinks? If you want a tattoo in Korean, go nuts. Just make sure it doesn't say "dumbass".

Got a question or comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@hotmail.com.

"All o'Y'all Look Alike!!"

Dear Korean,

This is a question about something I've heard in various forms from a lot of non-Asian Americans. Simply put, people tend to say that "all Asians look alike." That's an obvious exaggeration, but I'm wondering whether you think East Asians really do look more alike than people of European descent. After all, most East Asians have dark eyes and dark hair of a similar texture, whereas Europeans have many different eye colors and hair colors/textures. (Of course, I'm not counting perms, dye, and contact lenses.) Asian body types also seem to be more uniform than European ones. Is it just American stupidity or do Asians really look more alike than other groups?

Andrew T.

Dear Andrew,

You do have a point: All East Asians have dark hair and dark eyes. But really, that's all. Outside of hair and eye color, there is a whole lot more variation in East Asians than you might think. The point is illustrated by Isabella Byrd Bishop, a British woman who traveled Korea in 19th century. She visited a Buddhist temple in Korea whose claim to fame was its statuettes of 500 disciples of Buddha, and this was her impression: "Among the infinite variety, one figure has deeply set eyes, an aquiline nose, and thin lips; another a pug nose, squinting eyes, and a broad grinning mouth; one is Mongolian, another Caucasian, and another approximates to the Negro type. Here is a stout, jolly fellow, with a leer and a broad grin suggestive of casks of porter and the archaic London drayman..."

In other words, all other bodily features of East Asians could be radically different. The skin complexion can go anywhere from very dark to very light, roughly going from a slightly light-skinned black person's complexion to completely pasty. The hair curls and texture range from very straight and fine to very curly and coarse, almost to the level of jewfro. Eye size, nose size, lip size, height, build, you name it; East Asians are hardly uniform. If you think all Asians are short and have slight build, the Korean has 25 sumo wrestlers who would prove otherwise by sitting on you.

This then begs the question: Why do people think all Asians look alike? "Because people are stupid" is never a good answer. The answer has to do with heuristics. (The Korean covered it once here. Read it if you'd like a more detailed explanation.) To recap quickly: heuristics is a mental shortcut. People engage in heuristics by extracting the most prominent information out of a certain situation; if people encounter a new situation that shares the same prominent information, they conclude that the new situation is the same as the previous situation. Heuristics is useful because it enables quick decision-making with little information.

So suppose you are a person who has never seen an Asian person. You meet your first Asian man in your life; not very well met, just a random encounter at a party or something. What would you remember about his looks? Unless he has stunningly good looks, the only prominent thing you would remember about his appearnce a few days later would be his dark hair and his general Asian-ish looks. Then you meet your second Asian guy -- and bingo, the second Asian guy has dark hair and general Asian-ish looks. They both look the same!

(This is, in fact, one of the mechanisms through which deja vu can happen. Even though you are in a new place, for example, it feels like you have been there before. It's because some time in the past, you only remembered certain features of a place, and this new place shares the same features.)

This process happens to any race of people who are considered "exotic". A lot of white people thought black people looked all the same, until discussing race became the powder keg that it is right now. Here's a confession: the Korean himself, for some years after he moved to the U.S., had the hardest time distinguishing Danny Glover and Morgan Freeman. They are both slim, distinguished-looking black men who have some gray hair -- at least, those were the only things that stuck in the Korean's head whenever he saw Mr. Glover or Mr. Freeman. So even though they look nothing like each other, the Korean's mind just jumped the gun, until he consciously tried to remember every single facial feature of the two men.

As you might have noticed, this process definitely works the other way around as well. Europeans are more of a mix, but they can be broadly divided into light-haired, fair-skinned types and dark-haired, swarthy types. So if you are a white person traveling in Asia, you will definitely hear comments like "You look just like [insert the representative movie star here.]" It's pretty flattering to hear, but just remember that such a statement is the same ilk as "All Asians look alike."

In that case, how can one distinguish different Asians by looks? (i.e. Korean, Japanese, Chinese, etc.?) Well, that's for another, highly interesting post.

Got a question or comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@hotmail.com.

Ask A Korean! News: Open Letter to Non-Asian People

(Sorry about the unannounced absence, folks. The Korean hosted three little Korean Nephews from Colorado Springs for a whole week, and then the Korean visited the Korean Girlfriend at Aspen for a week. Hope all of you have enjoyed some nice vacation time.)

Dear Black, Hispanic, and White People:

My name is the Korean, the host of a popular blog of Ask A Korean! The Korean keeps the blog in order to edify non-Koreans, and more generally non-Asians. That means you. The Korean had been thinking that he was making good progress, but visiting a region in America mostly populated by you people made the Korean realize that more direct approach is necessary. Therefore, the Korean presents the behavioral guide of interacting with Asian Americans.

- When you meet an Asian person in America, listen to the person's English. If it's fluent, assume the person is American. Do not say "Oh, your English is so great!" unless you want a punch in the face.

- Do not ask "Where are you from?" to an Asian person unless you are reasonably certain that s/he is outside of his/her American hometown. If the Asian answers, say, "Los Angeles", do not follow up with "where are you originally from?" or "where are your parents from?" Our precise ethnicity is none of your fucking business. Do we ever ask you whether you are from Dominican Republic, Ireland, or Ivory Coast?

- Do not holler any Asian celebrity name at any Asian person. The Korean is 6'1", and plays basketball frequently. If the Korean hears one more "Yao Ming!" from one of you, he will shove a basketball up your ass.

- Do not say "gonnichiwa" to an Asian person in America, unless you are absolutely positive that the Asian person is a Japanese tourist, or you are a host/hostess of a Japanese restaurant greeting an Asian customer. (Although if you are a host/hostess, the proper greeting would be iratsaimashe.) There are relatively few Japansese Americans in America compared to Chinese or Korean Americans, so you are most likely wrong; and if you had been reading the blog, Korean people really don't like being mistaken for a Japanese. Chinese people are not all that different either.

- On second thought, don't say any Asian phrase to any Asian person, unless you are at least conversational in the language. It's the 21st century, people. We are no longer impressed by your amazing ability to say "hello".

- As a corollary, especially don't say any Asian phrase to an Asian American woman in the hopes of hooking up. Your schemes are as transparent as they are idiotic.

- While we are on the subject, although equal opportunity dating is to be encouraged, blatant yellow fever is disgusting. Nothing drives Asian women away faster than your submissive girl fetish. Plus, if you really think Asian women are domestic and submissive, you obviously haven't dated one.

- Let's change the subject a bit. Stop patronizing expensive Asian restaurants with shitty food and fancy decoration. (Way too many of them in New York.) You are just as stupid as the Russian people who wait in line for hours to eat at McDonald's. Recognize which Asian food is rightfully fancy, and which one simply has a fancy name and a $30 price tag.

(True story: The Korean went to this one chic Korean restaurant in SoHo, where they made every effort to make it seem trendy and, well, not Asian, down to 100 percent non-Asian waiting crew. We had barbecue, and one of the waiters offered the Korean a platter of "Seng Shew". It took about 10 seconds to realize that he pronounced "sangchoo", i.e. red leaf lettuce, as if he was reading French. The Korean broke a soju bottle on his head, and never returned.)

- Do not use chopsticks if you are going to make a fool of yourself and spray food all over the place. Use a fork. No one cares.

- On the other hand, if you are at a Thai restaurant and don't have chopsticks, do not act all high and mighty and ask for chopsticks. Thai people don't use chopsticks.

- On a broader topic, stop fetishizing Asian culture, like its movies and cartoons. Like everything else in the world, some Asian movies and cartoons are fantastic, and some are just plain shitty. As the Korean mentioned before, he cannot believe the number of people who liked Bicheonmu on imdb.com, which is generally considered the worst Korean movie of the decade, perhaps all-time, on the same level as Battlefield Earth.

- However, stop copying excellent Asian movies/TV shows, replacing Asian actors with white actors, and sell them in America as if you came up with that brilliant idea. Martin Scorsese, the makers of The Ring, The Grudge, and Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, the Korean is looking at your direction.

- Do not make an Asian person around you a representative of his/her race. Do not ask questions like "Why are Korean girls so slutty?" or "Why are Chinese people so loud?" because the answers will be either wrong or incomplete. Do you know all there is to know about your heritage? Neither do we, for the most part.

- But if you must ask, send an email to askakorean@hotmail.com

p.s. Asian people, anything else that annoys you? Please email.

-ADDENDUM: 2:37 p.m. Sept. 11, 2007- One more thing the Korean thought of (because some idiot just pulled this): If you meet a Korean anywhere, never ask "North or South?" North Koreans have no freedom to travel outside of their country -- that's what it means to have a communist dictatorship. The only place that you will likely meet a North Korean is within North Korea; at that point, you wouldn't really have to ask. Everywhere else, all Koreans are South Koreans.

Korean Language Series – Writing and Reading

WARNING: You should be able to see typed Korean language in order to fully read this post. If you are a Windows user, you can go to Microsoft's website and download the "East Asian Language Support". Ask your local computer nerd. Entice him with a woman and it will be easy.

-EDIT 14 June 2007 11:52 a.m.- If you would prefer a more interactive guide, try this link: http://langintro.com/kintro/ Thank you, J. David Eisenberg!

Dear Korean,

I'm interested in learning Korean although nobody encouraged me to do so! I wonder if you can help me explain Korean pronunciation, I've bought 2 different "teach yourself Korean" books but I can't seem to understand the pronunciation sections.

Amna

Dear Amna,

The Korean must warn everyone that he had never received formal education as to how to teach Korean to non-Korean speakers. Therefore, all the technical terminology that the Korean uses in this post (as well as in other Korean Language Series) are made up by the Korean. Additionally, the Korean will often be wrong about things. But hey, that’s the price you pay if you try to learn a foreign language from an amateur off a blog.

Korean alphabet, called Hanguel, was created by King Sejong and his scholars in the 15th Century, and it is extremely innovative. The entire alphabet has 40 characters, with 19 consonants and 21 vowels. (Technically it is 14 simple consonants, 5 compound consonants, 10 simple vowels, and 11 compound vowels.) First, let’s go over the basics of how a Korean letter is written. It sounds odd that you are learning to write before you can read, but it will make sense in the end.

Characters v. Letters

It’s important to distinguish between “characters” and “letters.” Each character alone cannot stand independently, because each character is either a single consonant or a single vowel. Instead, either two or three characters combine to form a pronounceable block, i.e. a “letter.”

So this is how a letter is formed: it is other “consonant + vowel”, or “consonant + vowel + consonant”. (Some of the letters are actually “consonant + vowel + consonant + consonant” in relatively rare cases. They are dealt in Advanced Stuff section.)

It sounds complicated written out like that, but the idea is simple. Think back to Sesame Street and how two shadowy people form a word. “H” plus “a” is “Ha”. “H” plus “a” plus “t” would be “Hat”. (The “A”s in the two words are pronounced differently in the two words, but you get the picture anyway. The Korean can’t help the fact that English alphabet is a screwed up one.)

The table of characters is linked later in the post. But hold your horses, and finish reading the post first.

“Okay, how do I write a letter?”

In order to form a letter out of the characters, pay attention to whether the vowel position is vertical, horizontal, or combined. It is really simple to do actually – vertical vowels stand tall, horizontal vowels are flat, and combined are vertical + horizontal vowels.

Step 1. Imagine filling up a square block. Write the consonant is the left half if the vowel is vertical; write the consonant on the top half if the vowel is horizontal. Write the consonant in the top left quarter if the vowel is combined.

Step 2. Write in the vowel.

Step 3. If there is a consonant following the vowel, that consonant goes on the bottom of the “consonant + vowel” combination that you just formed.

Let’s take a Korean word like “미국” (“America”). 미국 is made up of two letters, each letter making up one syllable. The letter 미 is made up of the consonant ㅁ and the vowel ㅣ. You can see that ㅣ is vertical, so write ㅁ in the left half the imaginary box, and put ㅣ next to it to form 미. The next one is trickier – it involves a second consonant. Since the vowel is ㅜ, you can see that it’s shaped flat and therefore has a horizontal position. So write the consonant ㄱ on top, put the vowel ㅜ on the bottom. Then put the last consonant ㄱ underneath the vowel. And there you have it, your first Korean word – God bless America!!

As an aside, notice that in Korean, there is never a free-standing consonant without a vowel attached to it. That’s why Korean people have such a hard time pronouncing such words like “school”. “s” in “school” does not have a vowel attached to it – “school” is one syllable in English. But Korean person trying to pronounce that word cannot process a consonant that does not have a vowel. So usually the best the Korean person can do is to pronounce it like “seu-kool”, in two syllables.

“Now I can write some exotic stuff I can’t read. Thanks, genius.”

Alright, we are finally ready to read. The chart of characters has pronunciation attached to it, but read this first. We are going to try reading 미국. First letter first: consonant ㅁ sounds like “m”. Vowel ㅣ sounds like “ee” as in “seek”. Therefore, 미 is pronounced like “mee”. Then the next letter: consonant ㄱ sounds like “g” as in “gate”. Vowel ㅜ sounds like “oo” as in “zoo”. So the pronunciation is: g + oo + g = goog. So “America” in Korean is mee-goog. Simple, right?

One more caveat – what the Korean just wrote above is not the standard Romanization of Korean characters. The chart below includes how each character is Romanized as well. For example, the correct Romanization of 미국 is “miguk”. From this point on, all Korean words will be in standard Romanization format.

Okay, you can take a look the chart now. The Korean will be waiting right here. (If your browser automatically re-sizes the image, save the image on your computer and read along.)

-EDIT- Here is the link for a pdf form of the chart. The earlier link is in a jpeg format in order to make sure that people without East Asian Language support can read it, but it does not print properly. If you wish to print the chart out, use the pdf link to print. Thank you Bonnie B. for pointing this out.

….

….

….

Welcome back. Your head spinning yet? Print the chart out and keep it next to you as we read on.

Let’s do one more example, the Ask A Korean! favorite – how to read 왕자. Consonant ㅇ is silent before the vowel, and sounds like “ng” after the vowel. The vowel ㅘ is a compound vowel, combining ㅗ (“o”) and ㅏ (“a”), so it sounds like “oa”, or “wa”. Consonant ㅈ sounds like “j”, and ㅏ sounds like “a”.

Put them all together: wa + ng / j + a = wangja, i.e. Prince Fielder’s neck tattoo.

Parting Words

The Korean would like to finish up with two points.

First, notice how fucked up English alphabet is. The Romanization of Korean is so complicated only because English alphabet is so messed up, and the Korean scholars who came up with it were trying to make Korean language to readable to English-speaking people somehow. English consonants and vowels often change sound randomly, although the letters – representation of the sound – never change. Thus we have the famous example of spelling “fish” as “ghoti” – “gh” from “tough”, “o” from “women”, and “ti” from “nation”.

Take a common Korean last name like 김. Under proper Romanization, it would be written as “gim”, and pronounced as such. But English speakers would pronounce it like “gym”, so Koreans had to adapt and bastardize the sound to the next closest sound, which is “kim”. The last name 박 is even worse. It would be properly Romanized as “bak”, but English speakers would read it like “back”. So Korean people added an “r”, turning it into “bark”. Then the connotation of the word became negative, so they switched it to next closest sound, which is “park”. So in reality, there are no Kims and Parks in Korea – only Gims and Baks.

Second, appreciate how beautifully designed Hangeul is in contrast. It is the only alphabet system in the world that has been designated as UNESCO World Heritage. The Korean can write 50 pages about the genius of Hangeul, but he will just give one example here: the amazing adaptability of the compound vowels. Although currently only 11 compound vowels are used in Korean language, technically any of the 5 horizontal vowels can combine with any of the 5 vertical vowels to form a new sound – 25 new sounds created in a snap, plus 4 exceptions where a vertical vowel combines with another vertical vowel. So out of 40 possible vowel sounds that Hangeul can represent (10 simple vowels + 30 compound vowels), nearly half of them (19) are not even in the Korean language!

In other words, Hangeul vowel characters can cover almost any vowel sound made in the world. (A big exception is vowel tones in tonal languages, for example Chinese.) No other alphabet in the world has a system that enables it to record a sound that does not exist in the language it represents. If aliens landed on Earth tomorrow, Hangeul would be the only reliable alphabet in the world that can consistently represent the vowel sounds that they make.

Advanced Stuff: Read Only If You Are Hardcore

Here are some more tips as to correctly pronouncing Korean characters and letters. The Korean is certain that he missed a lot of stuff, and wrong about some of the things here. Please email or comment if you notice anything.

Extremely useful tip for English speakers – whenever you read a Korean letter, pretend there is an “h” behind the vowel to get the consonant sound right. For example, if an English speaker read “sa”, she would pronounce the “s” like the “s” in “sin”, which is incorrect. (“s” in “sin” is Romanized as “ss”.) But if she tried to read “sah”, she would pronounce the “s” like the “s” in “snake”, which is the correct way. This rule applies across the board, no matter what the letters are.

Additional Romanization rule 1 – Under standard Romanization, one word in Korean is written as one word Romanized. So a sentence like 날씨가 좋습니다 (“the weather is good”) is Romanized as: “nalssiga jotseupnida”. However, if writing as one word is likely to produce a wrong pronunciation, hyphen can be added to separate the Korean letters. So the word 씨앗 (“seed”) is Romanized as “ssi-at”, since writing it as “ssiat” is likely to be pronounced wrong. Another example is the word 항아리 (“jug”), which is Romanized as “hang-ari”, since “hangari” would be pronounced like “han-ga-ri”.

Additional Romanization rule 2 – If the pronunciation is different from the way a word is spelled (following one of the “Advanced pronunciation rules” below”), the word is Romanized as it is pronounced, not as it is written.

Romanization exceptions – The current standard Romanization rule was introduced in 2000; prior to that, Korea used something called McCune-Reischauer Romanization System, which involved a lot of complicated additional notations on top of regular English alphabets to faithfully represent the Korean pronunciation. But outside of governmental and scholarly papers, McCune-Reischauer system was never popular in Korea because it was so complicated. Regular Korean people and Korean businesses Romanized their names more or less arbitrarily. Therefore, people’s names, if Romanized before 2000, stayed the same. Also, people may Romanize their name in any way they please.

For example, former president/dictator 박정희 would be written as “Bak Jeonghui” under the current Romanization system. But since he was born long before 2000, the Romanization of his name is “Park Chung-hee”. This rule also applies to well-established names of locations, like 서울 (which should be “Seo-ul” to prevent it from being pronounced like “soul”, but written as “Seoul”, merrily carrying on the mispronunciation.)

How to pronounce difficult sounds – let’s go over them one by one.

ㄹ – deceptively hard, because it’s neither L or R. Try pronouncing “Lola” very carefully. You will notice that you are actually sounding out “lol-la”, adding an extra consonant. Remember that ㄹ is Romanized with “r” in the first position and it’s easier to pronounce.

ㅅ and ㅆ – you have to realize that English “s” makes two different sounds. ㅅ is like “s” in “snake”. ㅆ is like “s” in “soon”.

ㄲ, ㄸ, ㅃ, ㅆ, and ㅉ – if you know how to pronounce Spanish correctly, these should come pretty easily. As you can tell from their shapes, they are related to ㄱ, ㄷ, ㅂ, ㅅ, and ㅈ respectively. Let’s try with ㄸ first. Try sounding 다 (da) very carefully. Say it like da-da-da-da… and notice your tongue is touching the roof of your mouth. Now, stiffen your tongue a little harder when it touches the roof, and hold it for half a second longer, and “burst” the sound out. It should be 따. ㄲ and ㅉ can be sounded out in a similar way. ㅃ is different because the sound only involves your lips, but same mechanism. Say ba-ba-ba-ba… and stiffen your lips a little harder as they come together, hold it a bit longer, then burst out the sound.

ㅡ – this vowel sound is most easily made by the following way: clench your teeth and make a guttural noise. It’s not the right sound, but it’s pretty close. Alternatively, pull your lips out as if you are smiling, and make the sound that’s least difficult to make.

Advanced pronunciation rule 1 – The Korean said some Korean letters are “consonant + vowel + consonant + consonant”. Here is an example: 뷁. How do you read this? The rule is: Ignore the last consonant, and only pronounce the first bottom consonant (called “batchim” in Korean, meaning “bottom piece”). So the letter 뷁, standing alone, would be pronounced like 뷀, i.e. b + ue + l = buel. But letters of this kind rarely stand alone, and the second batchim usually affects the sound of the next following consonant. Read below.

Advanced pronunciation rule 1.1 – Take the word 넓다 (“broad”). Now we know the first letter is read as n + eo + l = neol, ignoring the last consonant ㅂ. But the last consonant doesn’t stand pat. Instead, it changes the sound of the next following consonant into the “stronger” sound, if possible. ㄱ changes into ㄲ; ㄷ into ㄸ; ㅂ into ㅃ; ㅅ into ㅆ, and; ㅈ into ㅉ. All other consonants’ sounds stay the same. So the word 넓다 is pronounced like 널따, i.e., n + eo + l / dd + a = neoldda. Make sure you follow this rule, because the same word without this rule would sound like 널다, which is a different word whose meaning is “to hang clothes to dry.” Conceptually, this rule is similar to the “batchim slide-over rule” described in Rule 2. Read on.

Advanced pronunciation rule 1.2 – There is one exception to this rule, and it’s when the last consonant is ㅎ. Instead of getting a “stronger” sound, the following consonant becomes “harsher” if possible. ㄱ turns into ㅋ; ㄷ into ㅌ; ㅈ into ㅊ, and ; ㅂ into ㅍ. So the word 많다 (“many”, “much”) is pronounced like 만타, which is m + a + n / t + a = manta.

Advanced pronunciation rule 2 – Remember consonant ㅇ was silent in the first position? So take a look at this word: 놀이 (“game” or “play”). Based on what you learned so far, it would be pronounced: n + o + l / i = nol-i. But that is incorrect. What happens is the batchim of the first letter slides over to the second letter, and takes over the empty space created by ㅇ. So the actual pronunciation of the word 놀이 is exactly the same as that of the word 노리, i.e. n + o / r + i = nori.

The rule: If the first character of a word has a second consonant after the vowel (batchim), and if the first character of the second letter in a word is ㅇ, the batchim slides over to the second letter and pronounced as if it is attached to the vowel of the second letter.

Advanced pronunciation rule 2.1 – Take a look at the chart, and you will realize that some of the consonants have different sounds depending on the position. For example, ㅊ is “ch” in the first position and “t” in the second position. So what happens if the sound-changing type of consonant slides over? Answer: That consonant recovers its first position sound.

Example: Take the word 볶음 (“stir fry”). The batchim ㄲ is pronounced identical to ㄱ as a batchim. But when it slides over, the word is pronounced like 보끔, i.e. b + o / kk + eu +m = bokkeum. This is important because the word 복음, pronounced like 보금, i.e. b + o / g + eu + m = bogeum, means “gospel”. Try not to order the gospel of chicken at a Korean restaurant.

Advanced pronunciation rule 2.2 – What about those pesky double batchim letters? Answer: only the last batchim slides over to the next word. So the word 넓이 (“breadth” or “width”) is pronounced like 널비, n + eo + l / b + i = neolbi.

Advanced pronunciation rule 3 – if a batchim is followed by ㅎ, the batchim is pronounced “harsher”. ㄱ turns into ㅋ; ㄷ and ㅈ into ㅊ, and ; ㅂ into ㅍ. (Technically, the “harsher” sound for ㄷ is ㅌ, but it turns into ㅊ in this situation only.) So the word 닫힌 (“closed”) is not pronounced like dat’hin, but like dachin, as if reading 다친.

Advanced pronunciation rule 4 – This rule is super-advanced, and Koreans themselves often get it wrong. The rule is: If two words combine to form a single new word, the first consonant of the second original word is pronounced “stronger” if possible (in order to signal that it is a compound word.) So again, ㄱ changes into ㄲ; ㄷ into ㄸ; ㅂ into ㅃ; ㅅ into ㅆ, and; ㅈ into ㅉ.

Example: the word 김밥 (Korean seaweed roll, variation of Japanese sushi roll) is made up of two words, 김 (“laver”, a type of seaweed) and 밥 (“steamed rice”). But the word 김밥 is not pronounced as “gim-bap”. Since it is a compound word made up of two words, it is properly pronounced “gim-bbap”. (Although many Koreans, including the Korean Father, pronounces is as gim-bap, forgetting the compound word rule.) Another example is the word 물병 (“water bottle”). It is not pronounced as “mul-byeong”; since the word is made up of the words 물 (“water”) and 병 (“bottle”), it is pronounced “mul-bbyeong”.

What if the stronger sound is not available for the following consonant? Then the following consonant is pronounced the same way. Thus, 물항아리 (“water jug”), although it is made up of the words 물 and 항아리, is pronounced as mul-hang-ari.

Last last words – The Korean has to warn you just one more time that he is just an amateur! If you see something wrong or missing, please tell him so that he can correct it.

Got a question or comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@hotmail.com.