Konglish: A Confusing But Necessary Merge of Languages
Written by Irene C.
I can never count how many times I heard ‘annyeong-haseyo’ (hello) or ‘gamsa-hamnida’ (thank you) immediately after telling people I’m Korean. With the rising popularity of K-Pop came fans who were eager to understand their lyrics and attempts to learn Korean language and culture. Influence over language and culture, however, is not mutually exclusive. As other countries put in more effort to learn about the Korean language and culture, attempts in Korea to become more westernized, often deemed as modernized and developed in Korea historically due to the US and its allies’ influence during the Korean War, have also increased. In addition to greater attention to pop culture, these attempts at modernization have resulted in significant changes in the general Korean society as well. For instance, in 2022, the Korean government implemented an alternative education system — the high school credit system, which gives students a choice to choose courses they wish to take — in place of the traditional Korean high school unit system, where all students are limited to follow a single education system with minimal choices. Although the alternative may sound better as it expands the range of choices in classes for students, the end goal of the Korean high school system is to prepare students for the national exam (the ‘Korean SAT’) unlike schools in the US, whether the freedom outweighs the benefits of having a structured curriculum to prepare students for the test is still debatable.
In addition to the education system, the influence of the English language has also significantly increased in Korea over the past few years, shown through the increased use of Konglish (Korean-English). Konglish, English terms that are readily used by Koreans but are misinterpreted or not understood at all by native English speakers and also considered an “unofficial second language” of Koreans, vary in degrees of understanding. Words like beullogeu (블로그; blog) or chokolet (초콜렛; chocolate) are merely English borrowed words that are pronounced in a Korean accent. When you try reading the pronunciation, you’ll be able to find an English word that has a similar pronunciation with the same meaning fairly easily. Words like Hwa-It-Ting (Korean: 화이팅; pronunciation: fighting; translation: good luck) or Ai-Syo-Ping (Korean: 아이쇼핑; pronunciation: eye-shopping; translation: window-shopping) are English words that are pronounced in English, but don’t necessarily have the same meaning. These words are a bit harder to understand, but you’ll still be able to guess when you make logical interpretations in the given context. If I say ‘fighting!’ right after you tell me there’s an upcoming physics test, you’ll be able to guess it probably doesn’t mean to literally fight someone on the way to class. The last group of words, like Maen-Tu-Maen (Korean: 맨투맨; pronunciation: man-to-man; translation: sweatshirts) or Kon-Sen-Teu (Korean: 콘센트; pronunciation: conscent; translation: electronic outlet), are made up English words that mean something totally new. These words, unless you have someone explaining the word to you in a specific context, would be challenging to guess or understand.
As Konglish sounds like English, Koreans often don’t realize that they are using words that English speakers don’t understand. I, as a Korean who lived there for 12 years, also faced countless confusions when I first moved to Singapore. For example, a few years ago when I first moved, I forgot my laptop at home. My friend sitting next to me heard me saying “Oh I forgot my notebook (Korean: 노트북; translation: laptop)” and she, kindly, asked me “Do you want to use a piece of mine?” That split second, I was dropped in a maze with no map, where every turn led to a greater confusion. I answered “Sure”, but was still confused on how she could slice a laptop into pieces. It wasn’t until she ripped off a piece of paper from her notebook and gave it to me, that I realized ‘notebook’ is in fact, a Konglish word. I still remember when my friend looked at me miserably when I asked for a ‘conscent’ to charge my laptop, or when I yelled “fighting!” to my friend to cheer her up for her test which ended up making her roll her eyes around to look for a fight scene. These often embarrassing situations are not rare.
In addition to these confusions, some critics of Konglish claim that Konglish contributes to the loss of the traditional Korean language and culture. As language is an essential part of a culture, even considered to be a “culture in itself,” it may seem valid to argue the importance of using more traditional Korean words and less newly introduced Konglish words. However, these critics fail to recognize the significance of Konglish in drawing the attention of English speakers to the Korean language and culture — and in fact, it can be considered as an alternative form of effort to preserve and share Korean culture.
Konglish, through serving as a bridge between English and Korean speakers, has intrigued the interest of English speakers in the Korean language, and even culture. As Korean and English are two vastly different languages, rooted in different cultures, it is quite challenging for English speakers to be interested in learning Korean. With Konglish serving as a gate for the Korean language and culture, the barriers in language may have decreased, allowing further participation of English speakers in Korean learning. According to research by Statista, from 2006 to 2016, learners of Korean in US Universities have increased by 95%. Although a crack in the language barrier might not have been fully responsible for the change, it is still clear that the attention to Konglish has played a significant role in fostering attention to Korean language and culture, as it would have developed linguistic connections that contribute to personal connections and interest in Korean. Since the net interest in Korean culture has been maintained if not increased due to international attention, the preservation of traditional Korean culture, unlike what critics claim, became easier than before. Thus, the argument claiming that the use of Konglish interferes with the protection of traditional Korean culture, fails to stand.
Like fusion food, Konglish is not a complete ignorance of one culture, but rather a chance to share language and culture in such a globalized world. Yes, the balance of integration would be important, like how you don’t want too much kimchi or bread for a kimchi burger; however, like you don’t blame kimchi burgers simply because of the one of the burgers you’ve tried before lacked balance, we should also restrict ourselves from accusing the use of Konglish as a whole just because it has the ‘potential’ to be overused. Instead, we should aim to be aware of the potential loss of our language and the over-reliance on Konglish and look to find the right balance — to make the best fusion kimchi burger possible.
