Hangul

Friday night we got home kind of late and were both too tired to do anything but sit on the couch and sort of half pay attention to the latest episode of CSI:Miami playing on Korean cable.

Not motivated to cook after my uncharacteristic baking frenzy of the night before, I suggested Dave put his Korean skills to the ultimate expat test: calling for pizza delivery.

If you know Dave, you know that getting delivery ranks right up there with root canals and paying taxes on his list of favorite things to do. He hates to waste good money on mediocre food and paying extra just to have it brought to the door just adds insult to wallet injury. I half-expected him to insist we make do with one of the packages in the giant case of discount ramyeon he bought at Costco.

But, he didn’t. And, when he saw I was serious about busting out the instant mac and cheese, he quickly started dialing.

Could he do it?

As you can see, he could.

We got the food just fine, but were a little surprised to end up paying almost 19,000KRW ($19US) for this “large,” eight-slice pizza. I wonder what a small one looks like.

The pie, from Papa John’s, was very tasty—made with (yes!) real cheese—but a bit too pricey. Also, you can’t see it on the label in the picture, but the word 의국인 (”foreigner”) was typed in the space for customer name. Dave doesn’t recall them asking for his name when he ordered, just the address.

I think they can probably tell we’re not from here, so I guess the address and “foreigner” was all they thought the delivery guy would need to know. I do find it hard to believe we’re the only foreigners ordering pizza in this neighborhood, but maybe I’m wrong.

Inspired by Kangmi’s review of Pimsleur Comprehensive Korean, I thought I’d post here asking for more advice on learning the local language.

So far, my experience includes two months of weekly classes taught at the Korea Foundation Cultural Center, plus a month or so of self study with Declan Korean software.

At this point, I can reliably count to 100 in both number systems (the “pure Korean” used for telling time and counting, and the Sino-Korean system used for almost everything else), say “hi” to people in couple different levels of formality, say thanks, get directions to the bathroom, tell my taxi driver how to get home, and ask someone what country he or she originally hails from. All of which is nice, but not particularly useful when striking up your average conversation.
Oh, and, of course, I mastered the all-important survival sentence:

이것이 얼마입니까? (”How much is this?” Short version: 얼마에요?) my first week here.

Thanks to my coworkers, I can now also use the phrase 괜찮아요, which, depending on the context, can mean: “You’re welcome.” “No problem,” “No, thanks. I’m fine,” or, phrased as a question, “Is this OK?” That one word has actually expanded my vocabulary tremendously, but still has its its limits.

This represents the extent of my skills after four months here. And, I want to get better at telling what people are saying. The Declan software is really good (and David swears by it) but I seem to keep forgetting everything I learn when it comes time to actually talk to someone. I whizz through the memorization, writing and listening exercises, but nothing seems to stick with me. It could also be that I’m just not studying enough.

The Rosetta Stone program is supposed to mimic full immersion in that it doesn’t use English at all (from what I’ve read). I just signed up for a month of the online version. I’m going to try adding an hour of that a day, to an hour of Declan and see how that works.

Has anyone else tried any of these programs? Should I just break down and invest in classes at a language institute? Right now, I’ve just been reluctant to invest several hours a day and several hundred dollars in classes, but if that’s the best way, then that’s probably what I’ll end up doing. I’d like to know that it’s worth it.

I don’t want to write a novel in Korean, and I’m not planning on attempting graduate school classes and such in the language, but I would like to do more in social situations (particularly around the families of my husband’s coworkers) than just say “hi,” smile and gesture.

So, for the record, I am not an English teacher and, neither I nor my husband is in the military. (Read statement above.)

But it gets a bit irritating to have almost everyone you meet assume that you are one of those two things. Even after they ask you why you are here and you tell them.And, it’s not just Koreans. In fact, it’s rarely Koreans who make this assumption.

I went with my “counselor” from the relocation agency to get my Korean driver’s license last week. While there, we ran into another American, a professor at a university in Seoul, who has been living in country for 10 years. (He says . . .)
He turned around to me, and asked, ‘Do you speak English? Can you tell me which of these is the right window for getting an international license?’

I do, of course, speak English, but had no idea which window was the correct one. My counselor, C, however, also speaks fluent English and Korean. (Which is why she was hired to help me out, and why she was sitting and standing next to me, and talking every where we went.) She leans in and tells him, in English, which is the right window. This, he completely ignores, following the advice of the Korean guy sitting next to him who was clearly misunderstanding what he was saying.

Anyway, we go downstairs to take my eye test and physical exam (consisting of following instructions to do one deep knee bend). When we return, the Professor has obviously had a great deal of trouble with the clerk behind the desk. We can hear him complaining across the room. He’s had to wait in two different lines… he already bought a stamp, now they want another …. blah, blah. And, I should point out that I know what he was saying because all of this is in English. Mind you, he is also now standing at the correct window. The one that C told him to go to the first time, which he ignored.

Finally, finishing his business, he comes back over to me for a chat.

“Are you North American?”

“Yes. I’m from the United States.”

“Oh, you’re an English teacher.”

“No, actually, I am here with my husband.”

“Oh, military.”

“No, actually, his compa–”

He cuts me off and goes on to bitch about how difficult an adjustment we’re going to have, how Koreans will lie to your face because they don’t have the same code of honor for foreigners that they do for Koreans. For example, he was told to go to the wrong window, and had to then find the right window just now. How I’m going to have to learn. But, my students will teach me…yadda.

All of this is in front of my counselor. Who, as I’ve mentioned, is fluent in English, and has been sitting next to me the whole time. And who very nicely tried to tell his dumb ass him to go to the right window to begin with.

Also, as I think I’ve mentioned, I. am. not. an. English. teacher! I don’t have students. If this is how well he listens in English, I can only imagine what kind of time the Koreans have had.

He then condescendingly proceeds to show me he’s going to buy the clerk a soda as an apology for “frustrating” her, then wishes me well and leaves. Never says one word to C who has been politely and silently taking this all in.

I realize that it was a hot day. That waiting in line at the DMV is no picnic in any country. But, dude, you have been here 10 years and still can’t figure out the Korean words for “international driver’s license?” Or, how to ask which one it is in Korean? David can already do that and he’s been here five months.

I wonder if most Koreans think Americans are all loud, self-important bombastic jerks who refuse to learn basic Hangul.

Somewhere in the United States, a Korean professor and a newly arrived grad student are talking. The professor rolls his eyes, ‘Oh, God, you’re going to have such a hard time here! These Americans . ..”