English in Korea
Despite the fact that there is a huge push to learn English in Korea, very few people actually seem to have any workable knowledge of English. Everywhere you go, there is bad English on signs. Here's one of my favorites (although let's face it, the fact that it is called Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!!! school is just as funny as the bad English):
But bad English, besides being a great 80s hair band, is more than just people using English incorrectly. There's a subset of this phenomenon called "Konglish," which are English words co-opted into the Korean language. These are real English words, but used in a way that your average English speaker would not recognize. For example, there is, of course, a Korean word for pencil, 연필, but your average student is going to call a mechanical pencil a "sharp." When my students say someone is "cunning," usually pronounced "cunn-ying," they mean cheating or copying.
I particularly love the phrase "skinship," touching between couples. Another favorite is "cut the film," which is a black-out during a night of drinking. You know, "One minute I was dancing on the table and then the film was cut."
But it doesn't stop there. Many Korean companies have Konglish slogans. There was an insurance slogan: "Bravo your life!" My all-time favorite is "Let's [verb]ing!" For example: "Let's baseballing!" I went to a sex store recently that had a sign that proudly proclaimed "Let's Condoming!"
I'll admit, sometimes I'll hear a Konglishy phrase from one of my students and think that it is actually a clever way for them to try to convey their meaning. A guy we might call sleazy, my students call a "butter man" or an "oily guy." My favorite student Gregory once told me to make sure my boyfriend isn't a "windy man." I wasn't sure what he meant, so he thought for a minute, and went with "Cassanova" instead. Basically he was warning me against having a cheating boyfriend. Another student told me he had a "star head," by which he meant he had just whacked his head on the desk, what we might call "seeing stars."
This is a problem as an educator of English, because obviously English teachers aren't doing a very hot job of teaching what with all the bad English everywhere. But sometimes it is sort of useful as someone living in Korea, because if I don't know a Korean word, sometimes I can bust out the English word and they'll still know what I'm talking about.
I was in a HomePlus department store yesterday looking for one of those kiddie miniature golf club sets for a class activity. I'm fairly certain that there is a specific word for "golf" in Korean different from the English word, but I had used the word with a younger class, and they seemed to understand. So when a HomePlus employee came up to me as I was wandering around in the toy aisle, I thought I would chance it and ask in English. I was especially encouraged because he said, "Can I help you?" in English. "Golf?" I asked. He leaned in closer. "Golf?" I asked again, loudly and clearly. This was going nowhere, but he seemed bound and determined to figure it out. He leaned in even closer, so I said it again. He shook his head, so I imitated a golf swing. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "Golp-uh!" Good grief.
But bad English, besides being a great 80s hair band, is more than just people using English incorrectly. There's a subset of this phenomenon called "Konglish," which are English words co-opted into the Korean language. These are real English words, but used in a way that your average English speaker would not recognize. For example, there is, of course, a Korean word for pencil, 연필, but your average student is going to call a mechanical pencil a "sharp." When my students say someone is "cunning," usually pronounced "cunn-ying," they mean cheating or copying.
I particularly love the phrase "skinship," touching between couples. Another favorite is "cut the film," which is a black-out during a night of drinking. You know, "One minute I was dancing on the table and then the film was cut."
But it doesn't stop there. Many Korean companies have Konglish slogans. There was an insurance slogan: "Bravo your life!" My all-time favorite is "Let's [verb]ing!" For example: "Let's baseballing!" I went to a sex store recently that had a sign that proudly proclaimed "Let's Condoming!"
I'll admit, sometimes I'll hear a Konglishy phrase from one of my students and think that it is actually a clever way for them to try to convey their meaning. A guy we might call sleazy, my students call a "butter man" or an "oily guy." My favorite student Gregory once told me to make sure my boyfriend isn't a "windy man." I wasn't sure what he meant, so he thought for a minute, and went with "Cassanova" instead. Basically he was warning me against having a cheating boyfriend. Another student told me he had a "star head," by which he meant he had just whacked his head on the desk, what we might call "seeing stars."
This is a problem as an educator of English, because obviously English teachers aren't doing a very hot job of teaching what with all the bad English everywhere. But sometimes it is sort of useful as someone living in Korea, because if I don't know a Korean word, sometimes I can bust out the English word and they'll still know what I'm talking about.
I was in a HomePlus department store yesterday looking for one of those kiddie miniature golf club sets for a class activity. I'm fairly certain that there is a specific word for "golf" in Korean different from the English word, but I had used the word with a younger class, and they seemed to understand. So when a HomePlus employee came up to me as I was wandering around in the toy aisle, I thought I would chance it and ask in English. I was especially encouraged because he said, "Can I help you?" in English. "Golf?" I asked. He leaned in closer. "Golf?" I asked again, loudly and clearly. This was going nowhere, but he seemed bound and determined to figure it out. He leaned in even closer, so I said it again. He shook his head, so I imitated a golf swing. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "Golp-uh!" Good grief.