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.

Ask a Korean! News: Interview with Mahbub Alam

One Korean movie that generated a lot of buzz last year is Bandhobi, which was one of the first major Korean film that dealt with immigrants into Korea from poorer Asian countries. The star of the movie, Mahbub Alam from Bangladesh, recently gave a very interesting interview with Dong-A Ilbo. Below is the translation.

*                    *                    *

"An Earthling Living in Korea" -- Mahbub Alam's "Love in Korea"

Star of the movie Bandhobi, depicting the realities of migrant laborers
Wants to make feature length movies and a charter school in Bangladesh

He is called the Denzel Washington of Korean independent movies. Mahbub Alam, 33-year-old former migrant laborer from Bangladesh, made his name in the world through Bandhobi, a movie depicting the friendship between a Korean girl and a young Bangladeshi migrant worker. He also starred in 5-6 independent movies including Where is Ronny and The City of Crane, and produced independent documentaries such as People Driven Away and Returnee. He was also in a radio station for migrant workers, served twice as the chief organizer of Immigrant Foreigner Movie Festival that he established five years ago and published a book titled, I am an Earthling.

In the book, he calmly describes his 30-odd years of life, living as an "Earthling" who brought down the walls of race, religion and class as a young immigrant living in Korea. Currently, he finished filming and editing his third documentary Love in Korea and in the middle of finalizing it.

Q:  You have done a lot of different things, and are doing a lot of different things right now. How do you introduce yourself?

A:  I don't know, that's kind of difficult (laugh). "Movie personality" would be correct, to give a short one, because I appear in movies and I am making movies.

Q:  Bandhobi was not your first movie, right?

A:  Right. Totally by accident, I appeared in a short film called "Dream of Revenge" in 2005. At first when I was offered a part, I was very curious. I was in an acting club in Bangladesh, so I still had some thoughts about seriously acting. The movie was also about migrant workers, so I figured let's give it a shot. But it was awkward to see my face on a huge screen for the first time. (Laugh.)

Q:  Then you kept working in movies?

A:  I actually held a camera even before that.  I was working in a factory, then learned about the "Media Movement" as I was protesting against the Employment Permission Act [TK: law regarding migrant workers] in early 2000s. I began making films since 2002, and made some migrant laborer-related programs for RTV, a citizen-sponsored television station afterwards. Now I don't really do any more broadcasting work other than appearing on personal documentaries once in a while.

Q:  You must have a different perspective on Korean media as an immigrant. There is an increase in programs about multiculturalism on network television. What are your thoughts?

A:  I have been speaking a little too much about this... (laugh). I want the media to have more different stories. That's why I started broadcasting also. Existing network TV has two perspectives on immigrants -- really sad, or funny. Recently it changed a little, but it is still frustrating. For example they might watch Love in Asia and shed some emotional tears, but there is story about why they live such sad lives. At one point whenever I walk on the street, children would tease, "Bad manager!" because of a skit in a comedy program. They see me only as a sad factory laberor who of course has to work under a bad manager because I am an immigrant with dark skin. Always the sense of looking down from up high, always seen as someone who needs help -- from my point of view it has to be unpleasant. Those are the programs that either make me appear sad or funny.

Q:  But isn't it true that many multicultural families do require assistance? If they do not appear to be people who need help, wouldn't people question why assistance is necessary?

That's correct. It is true that many immigrant and multicultural families need assistance. But the means of assistance is a problem. You can rely on assistance to a degree, but you can't receive public assistance all your life. But places like migrant centers only tries to give assistance. From the recipient's point of view, he only would only think of himself as someone to be helped; there will be no growth. This type of assistance is being repeated over and over again.  This is a matter of perspective. Of course "Global Beauty Talk" in a good entertainment program in this respect. But there, only the well-off people come out, which is opposite of Love in Asia. I am not saying those two are problems; the problem is that there are only those two. Also there needs to be some thought over the many immigrants who come for reasons other than international marriage and forming a multicultural family. Korea seems to only have discussions revolving around marriage immigrants.

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Mahbub Alam first came to Korea in 1999. Majored in accounting in college, he at one point planned to study abroad in Helsinki, Finland, but chose Korea where his brother was living in order to pay for his mother's hospital bill. He initially intended to leave after two or three years, but now he has been living in Korea for 11 years. He married a Korean woman in the meantime, and is currently preparing to naturalize.

Since his immigration 11 years ago, Alam has been consistently active in the indie movie field.

Q:  At first you came to Korea for a simple reason -- to earn money for your mother's hospital bill. But now it seems like it got more complicated.

A:  No, it's simpler than people think. (Laugh.) At first I had a goal to earn money quickly and go home because my mother was sick and having a hard time. But she passed away six months after I came to Korea. The person I wanted to go back and see disappeared. So my goal disappeared. Afterward I met my wife here, and developed other relationships. So I ended up staying in Korea longer.

Q:  Do you not miss Bangladesh, the place itself, as your hometown?

A:  Obviously my mother was the most important part for me, but I do have places and people I miss. But now that I see them again in Bangladesh, I do feel that both us changed a lot. For example, I surprise myself when I feel frustrated with the way my Bangladeshi friends live. And when I got lost on the streets -- I never get lost in Seoul -- I think to myself, "Oh, I have become Korean." Hometown... it's about memories. If I leave Korea and settle in still another country, I will have that kind of feelings about Korea also. Hometown is not so much about the roots or the people, but more about family, friends ... that's what comes first for me.

Q:  It seems like you must have had many difficulties while living in Korea.

A:  I experienced the same difficulties that many immigrants face. It's been nearly 12 years since I came to Korea, but every day I hear questions about which country I am from, how long I have been here. That's stressful. But there are more good things, and that's why I live in Korea. I consider myself a Korean. I live in Korea, I do a lot of things in Korea, and have a lot of friends. So I consider myself a Korean, and consider Korea's inequality issue as my problem. Instead of blaming it wholesale, I think we should try to think about it together and resolve it.

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I met Mahbub Alam through a different reporting assignment. I contacted him to write an article about multicultural family in relation to couples of Third-World country men and Korean women, but he courteously declined, saying, "I am ok with it, but it is diffcult to put my wife in the spotlight," adding, "We received a lot of guff on that topic." The movie Bandhobi announced him to the world, but he paid the price.

Mahbub Alam dreams of living as a Korean and destroying Koreans' prejudice.

Q:  How did you get to star in Bandhobi?

A:  I knew Director Shin Dong-Il from starring in My Friend, His Wife. Afterward he asked for my help making Bandhobi. I thought it was interested because the concept was the story of immigrant laborers of Bangladeshi background. I ended up interfering a lot because I was giving advice about things that made no sense in Muslim culture in the screenplay. Then the director and I had to cast the main character, but that was pretty difficult. The guy has to be good-looking, should be legal, should be able to speak Korean -- it was hard to find that kind of person around us. So I suggested, "How about I do it?" (Laugh.) The director was surprised at first, but let me do it with a condition because I persisted. The condition was to quit all my jobs to concentrate on the movie, and lose weight. I was not a professional actor, but I wanted to do a good job. So I quit everything I was doing -- including all my broadcasting work -- and even got acting lessons. I also dropped 12 kg. Obviously I gained it all back after the movie. (Laugh.)

Q:  People must recognize you after Bandhobi.

A:  There are people who recognize me sometimes. It was a low-budget movie and did not have much viewers, but there are people who do. Especially at movie festivals -- people coming toward me saying, "Bandhobi." It's pretty fun.

Q:  On the other hand, I heard you also received threatening phone calls.

A:  Bandhobi was liked by a lot of people and it was a new attempt, but personally it was a movie aimed to make people think about the problems of Korean society. People who hated it ganged up on me to attack. Really negative comments on the Internet, threatening or protesting calls to my job or friends ...

Q:  Protest?

A:  Telling me to keep quiet, why I would make a movie like that. I don't know how they found out, but one of them called me to tell he will murder me. There was not much substance to it. He was just saying why a dark foreigner was dating a Korean woman. I was just acting in a movie, and the whole thing was really about the director, but the protests were only aimed toward me.

Q:  The director did not receive any protest?

A:  Strangely, no. It's his movie! (Laugh.) So I thought about it. There is a lot of international marriage in Korea, but it was not a problem if a Korean man dates or loves a woman from another country, and only the opposite is the problem. I actually felt that way as a person who married internationally; if Bandhobi was about a Bangladeshi woman and a Korean man, there would be no talks.

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Since Bandhobi of last year, he has been active as a film personality. While he is making his own movie, he appears in wherever that requires his acting, regardless of genre. He starred in television dramas such as Queen Seondeok, and played the main character in The City of Crane, which opened last May.

Q:  Even considering The City of Crane was a low-budget film, its opening was not even very much publicized.

A:  It is one of five works in "Meet Korea" series sponsored by Arirang TV, but maybe they did not have enough budget for marketing. Personally I was a bit disappointed. At least it showed in a few movie festivals abroad, and it keeps showing somewhere.

Q:  You seem happy with your work.

A:  I don't know about other works, but I really liked it in The City of Crane. Director Moon Seung-Wook has a lot in common with me. He once said he was a stranger in Korea too; he was studying abroad for 10 years, and felt difficulties when he returned to Korea. This movie was a mockumentary, and had no screenplay. I was really satisfied with excessive reality. What I felt lacking in Bandhobi or Where is Ronny was, like I said earlier, they cannot get away from the feel in Love in Asia. This nice, naive immigrant laborer doesn't receive his salary or gets fired arbitrarily ... a character eliciting sympathy. The movie might need one, but as an actor it did not feel enough for me to play only that. But in The City of Crane, the Korean woman is more like an immigrant and my character acts all big. (Laugh.)

Q:  What movies do you like?

A:  Recently I really enjoyed The Poem.  I like movies by Lee Chang-Dong. I watch a lot of Korean movies, and I love them. Korea really knows how to make movies. The problem is, actually making them is so hard. So obviously I worry about it -- whether I will have any future in this.

Q:  What are your plans for the future?

A:  Right now I am in a project to discover immigrant artist, sponsored by one regional cultrual foundation. I am planning a camp that discovers immigrant artists, in which they talk about how to communicate and strengthen their network. Personally, a cable TV offered me a part in a sitcom. That will start shooting in November, but nothing specific yet. And right now I am finalizing Love in Korea, the movie.

Q:  What is Love in Korea about?

A:  It's also a documentary, all based on real stories. There were nine people who came from Bangladesh to shoot a movie, and six of them -- including the director -- disappeared. The director produced 22 commercial films, but he just disappeared like that. So as I visit them, the movie talks about why they migrated. It is nearly done, and it will open this year if I'm lucky.

Q:  What are your dreams now?

A:  I want to make a feature length movie. And really far into the future, I want to build a charter school in Bangladesh. I want to teach children with media, culture and art education. I would invite Korean artists as guest lecturers to teach the children.

'한국에서 사는 지구인' 마붑 알엄의 '러브 인 코리아' [Dong-A Ilbo]

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

Ask A Korean! News: Sorrow and Outrage over Trinity River Accident

Welcome back readers, the Korean is now fully moved into his new place, and the Internet connection is up and running. While the Internet was gone, the Korean was working on a few drafts and they are almost ready to go. But this piece of news had to be reported first.

Yesterday, near Dallas, TX, a Korean couple accidentally drove their car into Trinity River and drowned. The following is from Dallas Star-Telegram:

Officials have confirmed that a missing couple from Garland are the people whose bodies were found Wednesday morning in a car submerged in the Trinity River in southeast Dallas.

Young Kim, 60, and his 57-year-old wife, Sook Yun Kim, were identified Wednesday afternoon by the Dallas County Medical Examiner's Office.

.....

The 2006 Hyundai Sonata they drove was found submerged in water near a boat ramp below the Loop 12 bridge that spans the Trinity River, just south of Sleepy Hollow Country Club.

The area is about a half-mile east of the loop's intersection with I-45. Their destination on Sunnyvale Street was on the west side of Interstate 45, about two miles west of where the car was found.

"There are no obvious signs of foul play," said Senior Cpl. Donna Hernandez, police spokeswoman. "But there is a possibility that the time they were driving through the area could have been the same time that there were storms Monday afternoon.

"Possibly they were simply swept away. We just don't know right now."

Hernandez said investigators have confirmed that a cell phone belonging to the couple was used to make several 911 calls.

Emergency operators did not fully understand the calls, said Paul Lara, spokesman for Dallas Fire-Rescue.

The full story is here.

One preliminary thing - It annoys the hell out of the Korean when mainstream media mangles Korean names. The deceased husband's name is Young-Hwan Kim. There are very few one-syllable Korean first names. It's true that often Korean people only go by one of their syllables because it would be so hard for white people learn TWO unfamiliar sounds put together; but at least a newspaper article about a person could report the person's full name.

What is outrageous to the Korean is the last part of the quoted article. Basically, the Kims called 911 several times, and the 911 operators hung up on them several times, because the Kims did not speak English. Local Korean newspapers are reporting that the Kims called 911 at least 3 times, and after the calls were hung up, they called their friend trying to get him to call 911 and explain in English, and told him, "The water is coming in, please help us."

My goodness.

Yet the Korean is certain that there will always be some idiots who would think or write some trash like this. The best part is the following:

"Call me hard-hearted, but if you come to MY nation and spend over 20 years of YOUR life here (the Korean's note: it is true that the Kims lived in U.S. for 20 years), making money, enjoying the fruits of this land and ALL it has to offer and you don’t have the motivation to learn to speak English, or you don’t entertain the idea that after all that time you SHOULD become an American, to hell with you, I don’t care WHAT happens to you, you’re nothing but a leech on MY nation."

There are so many things the Korean would love to tear apart in the above the sentence, but allow me to just deal with one nagging question that gets asked to the Korean all the time: How can immigrants live in America for decades and never learn English?

The Korean went over this once, but now he sees that this question has to be answered more emphatically. LANGUAGE LEARNING PAST AGE 8 IS REALLY FUCKING HARD. IN FACT, AFTER AGE 30, IT'S VIRTUALLY IMPOSSIBLE. Learning a language is nothing like learning how to ride a bicycle. Learning to ride a bicycle is about learning to manipulate body parts in a certain way. But remember, you already know how to move those body parts, you just have to move them in a certain way. Language ability is a specific brain function, whose window is only open approximately between age 1 through 6. Learning a language is more like learning how to move your limbs. If you were strapped to a bed since birth and never learned how to move your limbs for 30 years, it would not matter that it has been 20 years since you have been unstrapped - you would never move your limbs as naturally as normal people for the rest of your life.

We always underestimate how difficult language learning is because we all know at least one language, and we are all experts in it. But here is a question: How many words do you think does an average six-year-old child knows? One thousand? Five thousand? Answer: 13,000 words. Think about that. It takes about six words a day every day of that child's life to learn 13,000 words. This cannot be done through a conscious memorization process. The first-language acquisition process is instinctive.

Think also about learning a language after that language instinct window closes. You have to learn 13,000 words in order to speak as well as a SIX YEAR OLD. A freakin' six year old! Can you even think of anything other than general vocabularies that you know 13,000 of? Can you name 13,000 different people? 13,000 different types of animals and plants?

Now imagine you are an immigrant in late 30s ~ early 40s, right about the time the unfortunately deceased Kims immigrated. You have a job and a family to take care of. Chances are your job is very tiring because hey, if it were easy, white people would be doing it instead. You get out very early for your job, and get back home very late. You are tired as a dog. Would you want to learn at least 50 words a month so that in 20 years, you can speak as well as a slightly slow 6 year old?

Didn't think so.

Two short points before we close up here:

1. The Korean's guess is that the Kims actually knew enough English to work. If they were in a calm situation, they would have been able to communicate what was going on. But they were minutes away from death, water rushing into their car. The Korean has had a chance to listen to many taped 911 calls -- they are barely intelligible, even in English. The Korean himself starts losing English when he's drunk! Minutes away from his death, the words out of the Korean's mouth would not be English either.

Which makes one wonder: Don't 911 operators deal with people minutes away from death all the time? This was not some hick town we are speaking of -- this is Dallas for God's sake, with plenty of immigrants. (Google Earth shows that the Kims were not even that far off of downtown Dallas.) And whoever said 911's job is to save only the lives of English/Spanish speakers? What if a foreign tourist were in an accident in Dallas -- are they condemned to die? Shouldn't they have at least one person who can speak different languages, so that they can save people from death?

2. What is amazing is that the Kims called 911 several times. We all know 911 dispatchers can track locations of phone calls. So if the dispatcher hears some unintelligible yet hysterical phone call from the same phone number and the same location several times in the middle of a storm, shouldn't the dispatcher send someone to that location no matter what may have been said over the phone?

The Korean can only hope that the surviving family would sue the hell out of Dallas Fire Department. The fact that members of one of the largest immigrant groups in America, in one of the largest cities in America, could die because the emergency response would hang up on their desperate pleas for their lives, is simply unacceptable.

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

Super Special Korean Emotions?

Dear Korean,

I used to live in Korea and was recently reading something about a description for Korean emotion called ‘Chung’. I am not sure of the spelling of this, so am hopefully not confusing you. I skimmed through the article and saved it for later, only to discover I saved the wrong thing. Do you know anything about this? I asked a Korean friend, and didn’t get very far on account of his English not being ‘all that’.

Elizabeth

Dear Elizabeth,

The spelling was good enough, since the Korean got the idea. Technically the correct Romanization rule would make the word transliterated as jeong, but not even Korean people are fully versed in Romanization rules anyway. Jeong is a word that denotes a mixture of affection and attachment.

Especially with pets, jeong is closer to “attachment”. The word is frequently used in parents’ attempt to get their child let go of a stray cat – as in, “get rid of it before you develop jeong for it.” It is equivalent to “get rid of it before you get attached.” In a similar sense, a person with a lot of jeong is a person who gets attached to people/animals easily.

With other situations, jeong is closer to “affection”. Various actions are considered to be “with” or “without” jeong. For example, when you are serving rice from the pot into the bowl, you are supposed to serve it in two small scoops instead of one large scoop, because serving only once does not show affection. It is an action without jeong.

But beyond the ordinary use of the word, what Koreans believe to be unique about jeong is largely in two ways: (1) to describe random acts of kindness between people who barely know each other or total strangers; (2) to describe Korean people’s preference for informal processes.

In the first sense, jeong is especially used to describe the action of giving small, gratuitous gift – such action is full of jeong. A particularly close neighborhood is described as full of jeong, in which the neighbors act in a way that displays jeong – i.e. helping out and being nice to each other.

In fact, this is the marketing pitch for one of the most successful Korean exports, namely Choco-Pie. Vintage Choco-Pie commercials would show various situations where a small packet of Choco-Pie is given as a gift. (For example, a “good job” gift from teacher to student; “keep up the good work” gift from a passerby to a hard-working street sweeper, etc.) The last second of the commercial would give this line in a soft tone: “Choco-Pie is jeong.”

Another way in which Koreans claim that jeong is special to Koreans is that, compared to America and other Western societies, Koreans are more likely to rely on informal processes. For example, if a Korean person screws up in a job, the boss would yell at him first. But later the boss would take the employee out for dinners and drinks, to establish a bond (= jeong) and show that nothing personal was involved.

Whereas in America and other Western societies, (at least in the images in Korean people's head,) your performance would be evaluated on a dry piece of paper, and you are fired mercilessly if you cannot measure up, no matter how well you built a personal bond with your boss and coworkers. The entire process is heartless, and no jeong is involved.

But the Korean disagrees that jeong is anything particular to Koreans. The fact that Koreans believe so only highlights how narrow-minded stereotypes (about themselves no less!) continue to live on.

Jeong in the first sense can be found almost anywhere in the world. Anyone who traveled extensively would know that random acts of kindness are not particularly difficult to find. Even in New York, which has a reputation to be brusque city, the Korean has no difficulty finding strangers helping each other out. In short, jeong is not anything specific to Koreans; it is human nature.

Jeong in the second sense is even less defensible as uniquely Korean. In an example that the Korean gave, top-flight Korean companies like Samsung already employs the same heartless system that any American firm would. Formal process is a natural outcome of a society that pursues greater economic efficiency. It is also a natural outcome of a society that is increasingly individualized because of economic growth. After all, when people are forced to interact with complete strangers all the time, formal process is the only process people can turn to.

More broadly, the Korean believes that there is no such thing as “uniquely [insert culture’s name here] emotion”. Humans are all the same, and they are all capable of the same range of emotions. The only difference is the circumstances in which a particular group of humans are placed that generate such emotions. Then only thing that is unique about a “uniquely Korean emotion” is the experience that generated that emotion.

But a student of world history knows that, at the end of the day, the experience of the Korean people is not truly unique. Sure, Koreans were historically oppressed; but that oppression is nothing compared to the oppression suffered by, say, the Irish. And sure enough, Irish literature has a flavor that is strongly like Korean literature.

Bottom line: There is no point discussing a “uniquely Korean emotion”. A Korean who talks about that nonsense is someone who has not traveled or read enough to realize that it is all crap. It is a meaningless label in an attempt to distinguish Koreans from others somehow.

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

The Obligatory Gangnam Style Post

Dear Korean,

We've all heard it and we all love it, but what exactly is Gangnam Style and what makes it so popular in your opinion?

Chris

The Korean tried. He really tried to avoid the fad. He thought this was going to blow over in a few days, and everyone will feel a bit silly afterward. But no . . .

Gangnam Style just kept coming on -- 273 million views and counting, appearances on network televisions shows, continuous climb up the charts and numerous homages to the original. (The latest one: from the Ohio University marching band.) Questions about Gangnam Style just kept coming also, even though the Korean has been slower with blog updates.

So, FINE. Let's discuss Gangnam Style. First, what exactly is "Gangnam Style"? "Gangnam" literally means "south of the river." But generally, Gangnam refers to a specific area in Seoul located south of the Han River that bisects the city. The area generally encompasses the northern half of (confusing name alert) Gangnam-gu and Seocho-gu, covering neighborhoods like Apgujeong, Sinsa and (confusing name alert, again) Gangnam. It is an area with posh malls, expensive dining and swanky clubs. People who populate those areas are rich, stylish and beautiful, carrying all the appropriate status symbols like imported cars and fancy handbags. They are often celebrities or heirs of Korea's magnates.

The Korean was raised in Apgujeong, so he is the original Gangnam man. And it has been a little bit funny to see his old home described breathlessly as some place that "has no real equivalent in the United States. The closest approximation would be Silicon Valley, Wall Street, Beverly Hills, Manhattan’s Upper East Side, and Miami Beach all rolled into one[,]" according to the Wall Street Journal (quoting this clueless blogger.) Finding the U.S. equivalent of Gangnam is quite easy: it's West Hollywood / Beverly Hills. It has celebrities, style, money, and nice homes and good schools just behind those flashing lights.

(Aside:  This "no equivalent in U.S." trope is really overused, and in this instance, the comparison is clearly hyperbolic and incorrect. Gangnam is obviously not a Silicon Valley, since there is no huge concentration of tech companies in Gangnam. Nor is it Wall Street -- that would be Gwanghwamun / City Hall area, north of the river, where all the major banks have their headquarters. Gangnam is not Upper East Side either, since Gangnam is decidedly nouveau riche. The old money of the kind that occupies the Upper East Side of New York is found in Yeonhee-dong of Seoul, north of the river. The Miami Beach comparison is too dumb to address.)

So when PSY speaks of "Gangnam Style," he means to invoke the trendy, stylish image. But of course, what PSY ends up doing in the music video is a parody of such image. He is wearing a ridiculous suit and dances a ridiculous dance. He appears in decidedly un-Gangnam areas:  children's playground, on a paddle boat, riverside park, a bus with a disco ball, etc. A couple of times, PSY does encounter what might be fairly close to a Gangnam-type occasion -- a man driving a fancy car (a cameo appearance by the legendary comedian Yoo Jae-seok,) and a beautiful woman (cameo by Hyuna from the girl group 4Minute) flirting. But those moments quickly dissolve into another round of ridiculous dancing.

(Aside:  If you immediately understood the relevance of the bus with a disco ball, you have a black belt in Korean culture. The "party" bus is usually for older Korean men and women, who would like to dance away from the public view. To release their urges to shake it, they would charter these buses with total strangers and have a mobile dancing session. By the way, those old Korean folks dance about as well as your parents. It is probably the most un-hip mobile party in the world -- which fits perfectly with Gangnam Style's aesthetics.)

Having said that, what made Gangnam Style so popular?

(More after the jump)

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

Liberal Education and Coffee

Korea famously boasts an excellent educational system, which sends over 80 percent of its high school students to college. But as Korean economy faces a persistent problem of youth unemployment, commentators are observing that Koreans are being over-educated. Essentially, the idea is that Korea has youth unemployment because it has too many college graduates. The following BBC article nicely captures that sentiment:

South Korea's education system is held up as a model around the world. Some 80% of its high-school students now go on to further education. But according to South Korea's president, that academic success is creating its own "social problem" - a youth unemployment rate of 6.7% in October, more than twice the national average, even as parts of the labour market are hungry for workers.

"Because there are so many people graduating from university at the moment, and looking only for high-end jobs, there's a mismatch between the job-hunters, and the positions available," explains Kim Hwan Sik, director of vocational training at the Education Ministry.

South Korea's Wasted Youth [BBC]

(Aside:  In a typical BBC fashion, it messed up the name of Korean grandmother interviewed in the article by referring to her as Ms. Eun Ju-sung. In all likelihood the lady's name would be Ms. Ju Sung-Eun, and in no event should she be referred to as Ms. Ju-sung. Readers of this blog would know that BBC is prone to egregious errors when it comes to covering Korea.)

The Korean thinks the idea that Korea has "too many college graduates" is incorrect, for a number of reasons. To give a short (and incomplete) summary of the reasons:

1. The idea ignores the fact that Korea currently has the lowest birthrate in the world, which means Korea will soon face a severe shortage of people generally, and young people in particular. Whatever youth unemployment there exists currently is a temporary problem.
   
   
2. Research on this topic shows that it is not the college degree that hinders employment, but differences in other skills. In other words, the young unemployed population is unemployed not because their standards are too high, but because they are not desirable candidates for the employers.
   
   
3. The idea is based on the erroneous premise that as long as we deny people from attending college, we can sufficiently crush their aspirations enough for them to accept menial jobs.

In this post, however, the Korean exclusively wants to discuss the reason he considers the most important, that is:  4. Liberal education has value that reaches far beyond employment, such that it enriches the society even if the educated people are unemployed.

To be sure, the benefits of liberal education is not obvious -- which is partially why Korean president Lee Myeong-Bak has said: "A soccer player does not need a diploma from Seoul National University; he only needs to kick the ball well," as he joined the chorus of observation that Koreans are getting over-educated. But in some rare instances, one can get a clear and unobstructed glimpse of the benefits of liberal education manifested in a society. One of those rare instances involve coffee in Korea.

(source)

(More after the jump)

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

Are the Japanese Stealing Kimchi?

Dear Korean,

Is it true that Japan is making a Japanese version of the Korean Kimchi? I heard that the Japanese are calling it Kimuchi and hailing it as part of their own culture.

Bryan

The Korean previously explained that Korean nationalism drives many Koreans to truly stupid lows, like having a testosterone-fueled rage over women's figure skating or brutally killing pheasants with a hammer. But among the many different instances of nationalism-induced stupidity, this "kimuchi" thing might be the stupidest. Allow the Korean to state this as clearly as possible: this is a non-issue over which only the dumb people are worked up.

Yes, the Japanese are making kimchi. They call it "kimuchi", in an attempt to pronounce "kimchi" in Japanese. And kimuchi tastes different from kimchi, because the Japanese make it in their style. This is what happens the world over -- food travels, changes, and gets a different name.

Unfortunately, one can be a nationalist, or one can be a nationalist and a dumbass. And when the nationalists who are also dumbasses see the Japanese making kimuchi and let their paranoia run wild -- "Oh noes, the Japs are stealing our food! Now I'm going to have to write hateful shitpile on the Internet!" Never mind the fact that there is absolutely none, no indication that the Japanese intended to steal "kimchi" and claim it to be their own.

Recall that the Korean is writing this as an insane Korean food purist. He thinks that 95 percent of "Korean restaurants" in the U.S. do not deserve the descriptor "Korean." He thinks most of Seoul's restaurants serve cattle feed. But not even the Korean is insane enough to think that the Japanese are somehow trying to steal kimchi. The Korean might not recognize the Japanese imitation of spicy pickled vegetables as kimchi, but he is not delusional enough to think that the Japanese are trying to steal something.

(Aside: the Korean did lose his shit when a fancy restaurant near Seattle served "prawn kimchee salad" that had nothing that even remotely connected the dish to being a kimchi -- no salted vegetables, no fermentation, no spice, just prawn and arugula salad with some kind dressing. It was delicious, but it was not kimchi.)

The bad thing about dumbasses is that if there are enough of them, people who should know better cater to them. (See, e.g., extended warranty programs, Michelle Bachmann.) In this instance, the prime culprit is the newspapers that are quite content to manufacture a controversy. So we have articles like this -- in Korea's most-read newspaper, no less -- that try to play the same game with makkeolli (Korean rice wine) one more time by pointing out that Japanese breweries are now producing their own version of makkeolli, named "matkoli." (Again, the Japanese pronunciation of the same word and not renaming.) The article is a bald appeal to stupidity: "The Japs are trying to steal makkeolli by pronouncing it 'matkolli'! Just like they tried to steal kimchi with kimuchi! To arms, Korean people!"

But the more interesting part of the article is the comments, which are overwhelmingly critical of the article for being "narrow-minded", "alarmist", "filled with inferiority and victim complex," etc. Elsewhere in Korean Internet, the reaction is about the same. Dumbass nationalism in Korea may create a lot of sound and fury, but at the end of the day, most Koreans recognize them to be stupid.

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

Religions in Korea?

Dear Korean,

I would like to know of the common religion that most Koreans believe in. Is there some sort of fixed Korean religion, or are they just a bunch of Koreans who believe in different religions or so? If so, what other religion do they believe in?

Max


Dear Korean,

Recently there was a news story of Armenian and Greek Orthodox monks in Jerusalem (again) brawling over procedure/territory. That makes me wonder whether the factions in Korean Buddhism, or, for that matter, Christianity, share a particular enmity. (You know how God can fire up some folk.) Personally, I can see where the followers of Mithras might have a problem with the rest of the world (those pesky safety regulations), but what is the situation in the Land of the Morning Calm?

Cactus McHarris


Dear Korean,

Do you know how common traditional Korean religions are in Korea these days? I used to have the impression that most Koreans no longer practice traditional religions, and that most are not religious or are some form of Christian--but sometimes I still come across stories about rituals in the mountains or business execs moving their family graves for good luck but at horrendous cost. I'm sure some Koreans are still following traditional religious ways, but do you know how common it is? Are there any stats anywhere? As for fortune telling, I know it's still widespread, but almost all young people I've talked to (under 30) say they go to a fortune teller just for fun and don't take it seriously.

John


Dear questioners,

First of all, a full disclosure – the Korean is a Presbyterian. Discussing religion is always a tricky subject, so that disclosure was necessary.

Let us address Max’s question first. The answer is that Koreans generally believe in different religions. According to the 2005 census by Statistics Korea (a quasi-governmental body dedicated to creating official statistics,) here is the breakdown of major religions in Korea: Buddhists 22.8 percent, Protestants 18.3 percent, Catholics 10.9 percent and 1 percent for Other.

What you may notice is that there is a very large population of Koreans who have no religion at all, since the religious population only adds up to 53.1 percent. This does not mean the non-religious Koreans are atheists – it just means that many Koreans simply do not care too much about religion. Accordingly, religion is not really a part of public discourse in Korea. What may be controversial in the United States because of religion – e.g. abortion or stem cell research – is not controversial in Korea.

To answer Cactus’ question, people of different religions in Korea get along with one another quite well. To be sure, recently there has been some backlash against some Protestants who proselytize very aggressively, mostly in the form of nasty Internet rants and some scattered cases of vandalism on church buildings. Also, the fact that the current president Lee Myeong-Bak is a devout Christian whose cabinet includes some of his church members draws some collateral fire against Christianity from those who dislike Lee. (For example, when Lee was a presidential candidate, Buddhist leaders of Korea demanded that Lee to be more accommodating for Buddhists. Lee promised he would.)

But in the grand scheme of things – especially given our knowledge of how explosive and deadly a religious strife could be – religious life in Korea is generally diverse and tolerant.

-EDIT 12/11/09- Upon reading Cactus' question again, the Korean realized he read it completely wrong. How embarrassing -- the Korean is very sorry. Let us actually address it. The different factions within each religion in Korea mostly get along just fine. But there are occasional instances of tension that sometimes escalate to physical jostling. For example in 2006, there was a physical altercation between Buddhist monks of Seonam-sa and of the Buddhist head organization Taego-jong, the second largest faction of Buddhism in Korea. (The largest is called Jogye-jong.) The altercation occurred because the monks of Seonam-sa temple wanted more independence from the head organization, and Taego-jong was not going to stand for it. This incident was roundly mocked by irreligious Koreans.

Nothing to see here folks, just brawling monks at Seonam-sa.
No nunchakus or anything.

Also, certain Protestant churches in Korea are known for their extremely aggressive proselytizing, which includes denigrating other Christian branches and other religions. But while they are highly visible due to their shrill loudness on the streets and on the Internet, their absolute number is quite negligible. So while those groups generate some amount of tension, the manifestation of that tension is usually confined to flame wars on the Internet message boards, not any actual physical altercation. -EDIT over-

Now, onto John’s question. The question about Korea’s traditional religion is slightly tricky because there is some ambiguity as to what really counts as “traditional religion.” For example, vast majority of Koreans perform rituals (e.g. jesa) for their dead ancestors, which may be considered a traditional religion in the form of ancestor worship. But in fact, those rituals are not particularly religious – they are more like a memorial ceremony rather than ancestor worship. Evidencing this characteristic, both Buddhists and Catholics in Korea participate in jesa and other traditional rituals. Korean Protestants also engage in the traditional rituals, although they tend to somewhat modify the rituals.

Also, there are a host of minor organized religions in Korea that may be considered “traditional religion,” in a sense that they contain some reflection of traditional faith. Such religions include Won Buddhism, Chondogyo, Zeungsangyo, Daejonggyo, etc. For example, Daejonggyo, established in 1909, is based on worshipping Dangun, the mythical progenitor of all Koreans back in 2333 B.C.E. But the influence of these religions is nearly negligible, as less than 0.5 percent of all Koreans believe in those minor religions combined.

Then there are the traditional, unorganized faiths/superstitions, such as fortune telling, feng shui, shamanistic rituals (gut), etc. There is no real statistics about how prevalent these things are. The Korean’s own experience has been that the oldest generation of Koreans takes them seriously, while the rest not so much. (The Korean Grandmother, 94 years young, is a huge fan.) It is not very easy to see a real-deal gut, for example – which is a pity, because it is quite a spectacle.

Yeongdang Poong'eo gut - a gut asking for plenty of fish for the fishermen (Source)

Instead, the younger generation in Korea has turned them into somewhat of an entertainment, like the way American girls use a mirror and a brush to find out what their future husbands look like during a sleepover. There are a number of “fortune telling cafes” in Korea, where mostly young clientele enjoy coffee while different fortune tellers visit the tables to read their future.

But, to the extent it does not take too much effort, many Koreans lukewarmly follow those superstitions in a eh-what-have-I-got-to-lose manner. For example, many Koreans do consult some feng shui-type book or website when choosing the gravesite for their parents. Similarly, many Koreans do a perfunctory check when naming their children to make sure they did not inadvertently saddled their children with a name that invites bad luck.

One time when he was living in Korea, the Korean visited a fortune teller, whose trick was to pull three Chinese characters out of hundreds that represented the Korean's personality and destiny. The characters for the Korean were: 才, 才 and 才. Talent, talent, talent. The Korean does not (and did not) take fortune telling very seriously, but he's not going to lie -- that felt pretty good.

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

Korea's Problem is Modernity

I recently finished reading Daniel Tudor's Korea: the Impossible Country. (My review of the book is available at Reading Korea.) My reaction was mostly positive:  it was an excellent overview of contemporary Korea, providing a clear-eyed look at achievements and flaws of today's Korean society. As I wrote in my review, the book is highly recommended.

This, however, does not mean that I agree with the book entirely. I felt that in his book, Tudor relied a bit too often on Confucianism as a crutch, to provide explanations about Korean society that are too just-so. Tudor correctly identifies the full slate of the issues that contemporary Korea has, including high suicide rate, low satisfaction with life, low birthrate, excessive emphasis on education, grueling jobs with very long hours, etc. Tudor also correctly identifies that ultimately, competition--which drove Korea achieving prosperity and freedom at a rate unprecedented in human history--is what causes these social ills in Korea. 

Gangnam is not just for Gangnam Style--it is also the Mecca of plastic surgery in Korea.
It is not a coincidence that glassy skyscrapers, symbols of Korea's prosperity,
house so many plastic surgery clinics.
(source)

Where Tudor and I part company is the reason for such competition. Often, Tudor points to Confucianism as the motivating factor for the excessive competition in today's Korean society. For example, Tudor begins the chapter about competition in Korea with following: "Because Confucianism places a special value on success through education and stable family, Koreans focus on the minimal standard of living at which they will be comparable to others."* Although Tudor then goes into the exposition of how Korea's desperate poverty shaped Korea's national culture (a point with which I am inclined to agree,) starting the chapter with a reference to Confucianism colors the subsequent discussion the chapter.

(*Because I am working off of a translated version of the book, this quote may not be exactly the same as Tudor wrote it. You can blame Mr. Tudor, who sent me a translated version rather than the English original.)

If Tudor's point is that Confucianism contributes to the problems that today's Korean society has, I wonder how Tudor may respond to the following historical tidbit. Pre-modern Korea--through Goryeo and Joseon Dynasties--enjoyed extremely long periods of peace and stability. For nearly a thousand years prior to early 20th century, Korea experienced only one major war that meaningfully threatened its survival. At all other times, Korea had a strong, unitary central government that was able to implement its vision for improving Korean society. Needless to say, such vision was informed by Confucianism.

And by Joseon Dynasty, such effort was wildly successful. One can argue that Korea has reached the pinnacle of an agricultural society by that point. Organized by village units with centuries of farming experience, Koreans have perfected the delicate balance of producing the most amount of harvest without overtaxing the soil. Koreans also diversified their crop, allowing the soil to heal and providing more variety to their table. (Recall that traditional Korean cuisine features more than 1,000 types of edible plants.) The village unit also made effective use of the labor, setting precise schedules of who works when, for what task.**

(**From 김건태, "19세기 집약적 농법의 확산과 작물의 다각화", 역사비평 2012년 겨울호 [Kim Geon-tae, Intensive Agronomy, Diversification of Crops in the 19th Century])

The result was a society that produced everything it needed without too much effort. Thanks to efficient farming, Koreans always had plenty to eat. Indeed, the amount of food that Koreans traditionally consumed nearly defies belief. A diary from the 17th century describes that Koreans ate 7 hob [홉] of rice per meal, or approximately 420 grams. This is around triple of the amount of rice Koreans eat per meal today. Yet Koreans never had to work very hard to eat. Studies show that Koreans did not work all that much except in periods such as planting and harvesting rice, because labor was distributed efficiently. Contrary to the stereotype of hard-working Asians, foreign travelers' account of Korea invariably describe Koreans as "lazy." In truth, Koreans were not lazy. They simply produced everything they needed without spending all that much time.

(More after the jump.)

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

History Behind Seo Taiji's Sogyeokdong

[Cross-posted on Dramabeans]

Dear Korean,

Recently, Seo Taiji released a song called Sogyeokdong. From the music video and my limited Korean skills, I gathered that Sogyeodong must be a historical place. What exactly transpired there and what is the significance of the setting for Seo Taiji's music video? 

Curious person with poor Korean skills :(

Here is a simple rule for AAK!:  if you ask something about the new Seo Taiji song, your question will be published. First, let's listen to the music in question.

소격동
Sogyeokdong

나 그대와 둘이 걷던 그 좁은 골목계단을 홀로 걸어요
I walk alone, on that narrow alley stairs that the two of us used to walk
그 옛날의 짙은 향기가 내 옆을 스치죠
The thick scent of the past sweeps by me

널 떠나는 날 사실 난...
On the way I left, actually I...

등 밑 처마 고드름과 참새소리 예쁜 이 마을에 살 거예요
I will live in this pretty village, with icicles on the roof and sparrows chirping
소격동을 기억하나요 지금도 그대로 있죠
Do you remember Sogyeokdong? It still remains the same

아주 늦은 밤 하얀 눈이 왔었죠
On a very late night, the white snow fell
소복이 쌓이니 내 맘도 설렜죠
As they piled on, my heart stirred too
나는 그날 밤 단 한숨도 못 잤죠
I could not sleep that night, not even a wink
잠들면 안돼요 눈을 뜨면 사라지죠
Don't fall asleep; it all disappears when we open our eyes*

어느 날 갑자기 그 많던 냇물이 말라갔죠
The stream that used to be so big suddenly dried up
내 어린 마음도 그 시냇물처럼 그렇게 말랐겠죠
My young heart, like that stream, must have dried up too

너의 모든 걸 두 눈에 담고 있었죠
In my two eyes, I carried everything about you
소소한 하루가 넉넉했던 날
The days when the small days were more than enough
그러던 어느 날 세상이 뒤집혔죠
Then one day, the world turned upside down
다들 꼭 잡아요 잠깐 사이에 사라지죠
Everyone hold on tight; it all disappears in a moment

잊고 싶진 않아요 하지만 나에겐
I do not want to forget; but to me
사진 한 장도 남아있지가 않죠
Not even a single photo remained
그저 되뇌면서 되뇌면서 나 그저 애를 쓸 뿐이죠
I can simply try, repeating to myself, repeating to myself

아주 늦은 밤 하얀 눈이 왔었죠
On a very late night, the white snow fell
소복이 쌓이니 내 맘도 설렜죠
As they piled on, my heart stirred too
나는 그날 밤 단 한숨도 못 잤죠
I could not sleep that night, not even a wink
잠들면 안돼요 눈을 뜨면 사라지죠
Don't fall asleep; it all disappears when we open our eyes*

*Translation note:  Although TK assigned "it all" and "we" as subjects in this sentence, in the original Korean lyrics it is unclear who is opening his/her eyes, and exactly what is disappearing. Because Korean language does not require a subject in a sentence, this type of poetic ambiguity is common.

*                   *                   *

As the questioner gleaned, Sogyeokdong [소격동, pronounced "soh-kyok-dong"] is an actual place in Seoul. Located within Jongno-gu [종로구], it is in the heart of the old Seoul, abutting the Gyeongbokgung [경복궁] palace on the east side. Together with Samcheong-dong [삼청동], Gahoe-dong [가회동], Jae-dong [재동], Gye-dong [계동], etc., it is a part of the neighborhood called Bukchon [북촌]. Because of its quaint narrow alleyways and well-preserved traditional Korean houses, Bukchon today is a popular tourist destination. 

Due to its central location, Sogyeokdong has been at the forefront of Korea's turbulent modern history. However, Seo Taiji did not choose to sing about Sogyeokdong simply for the sake of history. He actually grew up in the neighborhood, having attended the nearby Jaedong Elementary School (which is Korea's oldest elementary school, established in 1895.) In an interview, Seo said that he simply wanted to sing about his childhood, but doing so would have been impossible without touching upon the history he had seen. The result, in TK's estimation, is a more elegant expression of the sinister sense of fear and loss that permeated the experience of Korean children at the time.

Seo Taiji was born in 1972, which means he experienced his Sogyeokdong childhood in the early to mid-1980s. What was going on in Korea in the 1980s?

(More after the jump.)

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

Ask a Korean! News: "Journalism" in North Korea (Part I)

[Series Index]

The ever-awesome Mr. Joo Seong-Ha began running a series about "journalism" in North Korea, particularly with respect to the official newspaper, Rodong Shinmun. Below is the translation.

*                       *                      *

In North Korea, journalists are usually depicted as the party's "trumpeteer," holding down the forefront of the ideological battle line -- because it is the media and the journalists who work for it that are directly in charge of the brainwashing education, such as deification of Kim Jong-Il's family line or popular propaganda, which forms a significant pillar for maintaining the North Korean system.

One can glean the importance that North Korea places on ideology from the definition of the "Strong and Prosperous Nation" [강성대국], which it had been working to achieve for the last decade. North Korea's definition of a "Strong and Prosperous Nation" is a nation that achieved ideological strength, military strength and economic strength. North Korea argues that it already achieved ideological strength and military strength. Therefore, it has achieved the status of a Strong and Prosperous Nation as soon as the economy revives enough to achieve the economic strength. 

The Strong and Prosperous Nation theory appeared in 1998, and there was a controversy at that time also. I was still living in North Korea at the time. The North Korean people quietly spoke among themselves: "It makes sense to talk about economic or military strength, but ideological strength is some kind of a wordplay." At any rate, the fact that ideological strength comes first in the definition of a Strong and Prosperous Nation is a great example of how much North Korea values ideology.

Fittingly, the organization of Rodong Shinmun is rather unique. Rodong Shinmun has 15 departments: editorial,  party history education, revolution education, party life [TK: not that kind of "party"], popular front, industry, agriculture, society/culture, science/education, South Korea, foreign cooperation, international, reporting, photo reporting, and foreign correspondents. Among them, four departments -- party history education, revolution education, party life and popular front -- serve the role of politics department in a typical South Korean newspaper. This shows how much North Korea values ideological propaganda.

In a South Korean newspaper, society department usually takes up the most number of journalists. Sports also have a large place, as there are separate sports newspapers and broadcast media has separate sports news programs. But in Rodong Shinmun, there are no separate departments for society, culture or sports. Among the 15 departments, society/culture department handles society, culture and sports. Other North Korean newspapers follow a similar pattern.

This organization is closely related to the way Rodong Shinmun publishes its papers. Rodong Shinmun prints six pages, organized as following: the front page carries latest news about Kim Jong-Il, deification education, foreign public opinion admiring Kim Jong-Il and editorial. The second page contains stories about the revolutionary heritage, material for educating the labor class and activities of the party workers. The third page also contains stories of Kim Jong-Il's deification and the loyal subjects who followed Kim. The fourth page finally contains short news about the national administration or economic workers, as well as human interest stories, cultural and sporting events. If the North Korean national team loses in an international match, the loss rarely makes the news. The fifth page is for South Korea and the sixth page is for international news.

The most important department of Rodong Shinmun is the editorial board. Only the journalists with the greatest ideological readiness and writing prowess are selected for the board. They usually carry the superlative titles like People's Reporter, Distinguished Reporter or Level 1 Reporter. Of course, it is also the case for a South Korean newspaper's editorial board to have excellent, veteran journalists. Rodong Shinmun's editorial board writes the standard arguments for the party's policies, op-ed and editorial, which are the stories on which Kim Jong-Il focuses the most.

The stories on the front page of Rodong Shinmun frequently come with a black box around it. The box signifies that Kim Jong-Il read the story and approved it before it went to print. People are required to study such stories.

The editorial board is popular because a journalist who writes a good story has a good chance to be promoted to a party officer, if he can grab Kim Jong-Il's attention. In North Korean newspapers, even the editorial carries the name of the writer. Unlike South Korean newspapers that usually print two or three editorials a day, there are many journalists on the editorial board of Rodong Shinmun that cannot even print one or two editorials bearing his name in a year. There are editorials where a choice of a single word took a month.

However, there are journalists who are considered even more important than the members of the editorial board -- the journalists who accompany Kim Jong-Il on his field inspections. A South Korean analogue would be a journalist in the politics department whose beat is the Blue House. In North Korea, such reporters are referred to as "The First Reporter."

Foreign correspondents are admired in South Korea, but even more so in North Korea where a travel abroad is itself a privilege. North Korea sends out foreign correspondents to countries with which it has amicable relations, such as China, Russia and other countries in the Middle East or Africa. But becoming a foreign correspondent in North Korea is not a meritocracy -- without extraordinary connections, a reporter is better off not even thinking about the possibility. Once abroad, the correspondent constantly focuses on the opportunities to earn dollars, because keeping the person who sent you out happy guarantees the longer stay abroad.

South Korean reporters have to propose newsworthy stories in their departments every morning. But in North  Korea, the Propaganda Bureau of the Labor Party gives an order to the newspapers and TV stations, and the department chiefs then order the reporters about what to write. For example, when June 25 -- anniversary for Korean War -- draws near, the party would order an "anti-America week." Then the officers of the newspaper make the reporters focus on writing stories that would stoke anti-American sentiments. Such campaign continues year-around, with themes like "honoring our leader" week or "socialist patriotism" week.

The North Korean media has more framed "teachings" and "remarks" hanging on the hallways and offices than almost any other place in North Korea. Here, "teachings" are quotes from Kim Il-Sung and "remarks" are quotes from Kim Jong-Il. Some of them are quite revealing, and not commonly seen in any other place: "Be the party's eternal helper, assistant and advisor," "Even if you want to take ten steps, take a single step if the party tells you to take a single step," "Reporters must not breathe on their own accord," etc. In other words, journalists are ordered to be the perfect puppet of the Labor Party.

In most countries of the world, the most important virtue for a journalist is the courage and conscience that do not bend to the power. But in North Korea, a journalist equals the Labor Party's propagandist worker.

北 노동신문 1면의 ‘검은테두리’에 숨겨진 비밀 [North Korea Real Talk]

(continued in Part 2)

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

Ask a Korean! News: North Korean Soccer (Part I)

First of all, congratulations to the Taeguk Warriors for making the knockout round for the first time outside of Korea.

While this World Cup has produced plenty of compelling moments -- like Landon Donovan's beautiful 91st minute goal against Algeria (USA! USA!) -- the leading Korean Peninsula-related story of the World Cup is the Chollima (the "Thousand-Mile Horses") of North Korea, who fought well against the 2-1 defeat against Brazil in the course of being eliminated.

Personally, the Korean thinks that North Korea should never have been allowed to play in the 2010 World Cup. Eve Fairbanks of Newsweek described the Korean's sentiment well:

But I have to admit that the more goals the Portuguese scored, the worse I felt. I didn't dare to wear my fiery colors of labor too obviously inside the Troyeville, but I was rooting for North Korea. Partly because of the amusement factor—rock-paper-scissors!—but mainly because, when I looked at those hapless North Korean players giving up goal after goal, I wondered how safe their friends and families would be.

...

FIFA—and South Africa—missed an opportunity by failing to ban the North Koreans. Enlightened people love to pooh-pooh cultural boycotts, but a ban would have reflected this part of the continent’s unique ethos and history. South Africa is the single country where a sports boycott did the most to heighten outside awareness of the evils of a regime—and to foment internal restlessness for change.

Bring Back the Sports Boycott [Newsweek]

The Korean cannot help Ms. Fairbanks get the boycott she (and he) wanted. But he can help taking a guess at what North Korean soccer players might go through, thanks to Mr. Joo Seong-Ha of Nambuk Story. Below is a series by Mr. Joo providing analysis on North Korean soccer's history and the current state. Because the series is in three parts, the Korean will also give the translation in three parts.

North Korean Soccer Analysis: Part I - Defeat Makes a Sea of Tears

June 18, 2008, King Fahd Stadium, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

As soon as the game against Saudi Arabia ended -- the last game in the Asia preliminaries for 2010 World Cup -- the North Korean players shed tears of joy as they embraced one another. They had just advanced to the World Cup Finals for the first time in 44 years. This was also the first time in history when South and North Korea advanced together.

 North Koreans players cheer at King Fahd Stadium after qualifying for the World Cup.

The players received a massive welcome parade in Pyongyang. The regime also rewarded them with awards at the highest level. Sixteen received the name of "People's Athlete," and three received the name "Contributing Athlete." People's Athlete is the highest honor for an athlete in North Korea. North Korea usually reserves the People's Athlete honors for athletes who won in the Olympics or a world championship, and the Contributing Athlete honors for those who won an Asia-wide competition. The unprecedented number of those who received the People's Athlete honors at the same time reflects how much North Korea values advancing into the World Cup.

The families of the People's Athlete apparently moved to the best Athlete's Apartments in Pyongyang. In particular, the families who used to live in rural areas won a Pyongyang citizenship, which is extremely difficult to obtain, thanks to their sons. This also shows the soccer's popularity in North Korea, and the emphasis that the regime puts on the sport.

Then why did North Korea fail to distinguish itself in the international stage for over 40 years? To understand this, it is necessary to explain the glory days of North Korea soccer -- the legend of quarterfinals in the England World Cup of 1966, 44 years ago.

June 30, 1966. When 66 members of Team North Korea and staff landed in London, many locals came to see them. For Europeans of that era, Asian soccer players were a curiosity. They were astonished by the fact that the average height of Team North Korea was 165 cm [TK: 165 cm = 5' 5"].

The culture shock was the same for the North Koreans. The players who went to the airport restroom were surprised when a "woman" came out of what was clearly marked as a men's room. Only after the interpreter arrived did they learn that in England, men could grow long hair as well.

It was a clear day when Team North Korea arrived -- an unusual sight in London infamous for bad weather. The local newspapers reported, "The players of the Land of the Morning Calm brought sunshine."

The group stage for North Korea was at Middlesbrough, in northeastern England. Upon arriving Middlesbrough, Team North Korea rejected the hotels assigned by the hosts four times, electing instead to stay outside the city at St. George Hotel, which was still under construction. This was done to save foreign currency.

Team North Korea's every move grabbed local paper's attention. An article reported that Team North Korea consumed more than one kilogram of chili pepper a day; a hotel chef was quoted, "If Englishmen ate chili like this, they would explode." Team North Korea appeared to be a team of mystery for Middlesbroughers.

No one expected North Korea to advance to the quarterfinals, because the same group had the contemporary powerhouses -- Soviet Union, Chile and Italy. The strongest one among them was Soviet Union, led by the legendary goalkeeper Yashin. As expected, Soviet Union defeated North Korea and Italy, advancing as the top team of the group. Later, Soviet Union would lose to West Germany in the semifinal in an upset, as West Germany beat Soviet Union for the first time since World War II. Led by its soccer hero Franz Beckenbauer, West Germany prevailed 2-1 after two Soviet players were red-carded.

Soviet Union beat North Korea 3-0. The scoreline implies a complete defeat, but in fact North Korean defenders did an impressive job defending the Soviet attacks despite overwhelming height disadvantage. The Times of London reported, "Only the final goal was the first and the last time when Soviet Union completely penetrated North Korean defense."

Middlesbroughers were surprised by Team North Korea. In the next game against Chile, more fans visited the stadium to cheer for North Korea. Chile had a strong team, finishing third in the 1962 World Cup. The final score was 1-1, but with an advantage to North Korea who outshot Chile 16 to 9.

The game against Italy was the last game in the group stage. Although North Korea was missing starters due to injuries from the Soviet Union and Chile games, it defeated Italy 1-0 thanks to Park Du-Ik's goal. Team Italy had to face a shower of rotten eggs upon their return home.

North Korea-Italy game in the England World Cup of 1966.

North Korea's "ladder header" beating the Italian defense.

Kim Bong-Hwan, Park Seung-Jin, Park Du-Ik, Han Bong-Jon 

and Lim Seung-Hui are forming the ladder, beating out Giacinto Facchetti.

For its first World Cup, North Korea advanced to the quarterfinals as the second place of its group. (At the time, World Cup finals had 16 countries.) Three thousands fans from Middlesbrough, fascinated by Team North Korea's game, traveled with the North Korean team to Liverpool, where the quarterfinals were to be held.

In the group stage, Portugal -- North Korea's quarterfinals opponent -- beat Brazil, the champion of the 1962 World Cup, by the score of 3-1. North Korea at first was leading by 3-0, but eventually lost by the score of 5-3. Eusebio, the best striker of the era, scored four goals.

Because of the time difference, North Korean people listened to this game live via radio on 1 a.m. Lee Sang-Byeok, a North Korean broadcasting legend who passed away in 1997, announced the play-by-play. Lee's voice was full of energy when North Korea was ahead by three. But as the team gave up goal after goal, his voice began losing strength. "Ah, Eusebio again" -- hearing this four times, the name Eusebio was deeply engraved in North Koreans' memory. After the North Korean team allowed the fourth goal, Lee began crying. In the crack of dawn, the entire North Korea turned into a sea of tears. As Italy still cannot forget Park Du-Ik, North Korea still cannot forget Eusebio.

Regardless, North Korea left a strong impression in its first-ever World Cup. What was the method of their success? People generally remember the Netherlands as the origin of "Total Soccer". But nearly a decade earlier, North Korea already employed a strategy that was essentially "everyone defends, everyone attacks." They overcame the physical disadvantage by simply running like hell.

Stanley Raus, then-president of FIFA, had asked "What kind of team is North Korea?" before the England World Cup. Upon watching the North Korea - Chile game, Raus pointed out the team captain Shin Yeong-Gyu and praised him as a world-class player. After the World Cup, Raus is reported to have said, "The world's best team would have Eusebio to attack, Shin to defend, and Yashin as the goalkeeper."

The players who returned to North Korea received the best treatment while staying at a hot springs resort in Hamgyeongbuk-do Ju-Eul for several months. But this was the time the watershed event for Kim Jong-Il's consolidation of power -- the purging of Gapsan line.

Gapsan line is the group of communists who were active around Hamgyeongnam-do during the Japanese colonial era. Kim Il-Sung, in a secret Labor Party Central Committee Meeting held on March of 1968, decided to purge the Gapsan line, which hindered the establishment of his unitary rule.

(Continued in Part II)

[북한축구해부1] -패배는 북한을 눈물바다로도 만든다 [Nambuk Story]

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