Seoul & Language Blunders

A couple of weekends ago, my friend Collette and I went to Seoul. As far as big cities go, it wasn't spectacular. I'd take Boston or Chicago over super-smoggy Seoul any day; but, it's brimming with delicious international restaurants (most cities here have international restaurants, but many of them are decidedly not delicious) and has an English bookstore. The five-hour train ride to get there was at least as enjoyable as the city itself - Korea is gorgeous right now. Cherry blossoms and azaleas everywhere, that spearminty spring green color on all of the trees, and little mountain farm villages busy keeping up their rice paddies and vineyards. It feels like a totally different country than the one I arrived at in winter.

 

 Cities all over Korea are jam packed with tiny, closet-like shops and cafes. They're always meticulously decorated both inside and out, and on some occasions there might be a stool or two inside. Most often, you order at the window and sit on a bench or stools outside, like at this 20-ish square foot coffee shop.

Korean delivery. When you're finished eating, you put the dishes back outside your door and someone will come pick them up before the next morning.

 Seoul subway

A little wine bar that makes great sangria and has an old car that functions as the bar. Note the take-out menu on the windshield. You can order take-out just about anywhere and there aren't restrictions on walking around with an open container.

I made my first real language blunder this week. There's a new middle school student in my largest class, and on his first day he told the class and I that his name was [what I understood to be] Gus. So, I proceeded to call him Gus and even wrote his name as such on the board - along with the names of the other students - for a class exercise. Every time his name was written or mentioned, there was audible snickering from the far corners of the classroom. Sensing that something must be wrong, I asked Gus to reconfirm his name. Whatever he said still sounded exactly like Gus, so I continued to call him Gus. At the end of class it was finally brought to my attention - by another merciful student - that his name isn't Gus, but Gauss. The next day I learned that, in Korean, gus means balls. A day after that, I learned that it specifically means dog balls. I spent an entire class period calling the new kid Dog Balls.

But seriously, who ever heard of a name like Gauss (pronounced "Gouse" and sounds like it's in the family of gout)? Well, I suppose if you're Korean it's a more likely name than Gus.