3, 2, 1 . . . Konglish Time!

Konglish: n. the use of English words (or words derived from English words) in a Korean context. 

In an attempt to draw a line between Korean chit-chat and English studies, I tend to shout out a countdown at the beginning of class to warn my students of the imminent approach of "English time." Some of my lower level classes, however, decided to more accurately change the countdown to "3, 2, 1 . . . Konglish time!" in yet another successful attempt to undermine my authority. 

What is Konglish?

The phenomenon of Konglish is so omnipresent in South Korea that the country would almost be unrecognizable without it. Imagine San Francisco without the Golden Gate Bridge. Rome lacking the Colosseum. Giza sans pyramids. 

For South Korea, Konglish acts as a verbal equivalent of these architectural beacons of culture, shining an amusing, if sometimes garish, light onto a society that obsesses over English but regularly twists it into puzzling incarnations. 

Like any language, the best way to learn Konglish is to experience it. Enough students ask to see your "hen-du-pone" and you eventually realize they'd like to take a look at your cell phone (see: handphone). A taxi driver will refuse to take you to an apartment, but will gladly shuttle you to your "apaht-uh."  In the sweltering summer, air conditioning will do you no good, but "ay-oh-kon" will work wonders. 

T-shirts bear slogans such as "I am son of bambino" and department store windows display sentiments like, "I wish you were in Heaven" (think about the implications of that one for a second). 

The magic of the internet even provides ways in which to test your knowledge of Konglish. Take this quiz and see how well you fare. I scored 100%. KING ME! 

A prime example of Konglish dropped into my hands recently when one of my students brought me a gift after traveling to Thailand [sidenote: giftgiving is rampant in this country, and it is common to give someone a small gift to celebrate occasions both great and small]. Oddly enough, the gift was most certainly made in Korea, and (to my delight) is congested with Konglish. 

Take a look at the cover:

Yes, the images are backwards, I realize this. It is your mission to hold a mirror up to your computer screen to decode the messages. Interactive blog time! See, it is not just a diary (planner), but, rather, a "romantic" diary. Perhaps the bound equivalent of a love potion? 

Its pages hold romantic secrets, such as: 

"I like khaki colors, Romantic Khaki"

and

"I love you, Smile Bluish Green"

A close examination of a map tucked into the back pages also provides some interesting results:

Not only is Greenland stationed just west of North America, but China has turned into Korea! The advancements in geography in this part of the world, I tell you . . . 

The biggest problem with Konglish is that it gets in your head and stays there like an 80s pop song. I find myself responding to my students' Konglish with Konglish of my very own:

-Erin teacher tired?

-No! Erin teacher very happy sun day! 

These words really do pour out of my mouth involuntarily at times. 

On an almost completely unrelated note, here is a picture of my tiger hat: 

Probably one of the best purchases I have ever made. Note the attached paws. Korean children run around in these as if attempting to transform into the wild beasts that lurk deep inside.