Once students reach a high enough level at our academy we have them start keeping an English journal/diary. Students are allowed to write about any topic they want. Some focus on what they did over the weekend while others pick a random subject to discuss in their notebook. I have twins in one of my classes - a brother and sister - who are writing about their pet mealworms, and in the past one of my other students turned in a journal assignment where she outlined the life cycle of a maple tree, complete with seeds and leaves glued inside. As long as students make an effort I tend to enjoy reading what they come up with. [1]

Yesterday a student handed me his notebook to correct and I noticed that he had several entries that needed to be looked over. Since the students were busy working on an assignment I read over his entries in class, as they don't usually take very long to finish. One of his entries near the end of October caught my interest, as he wrote about checking his calendar and seeing it marked as sanggang [2]. He had no idea what day it meant and asked his mom. However, his mom also had no idea what it meant. He concluded the entry with a sentence highlighting his confusion over an event that was important enough to mark on a factory-produced calendar but one that nobody in his family could identify.

The name struck me as somewhat familiar but I couldn't place where it was from. But then again, gang is the Korean word for river, so my brain could have been thinking about that by mistake. However, a subtle consultation of the Korean-English dictionary on my cellphone (during class) provided the following:

상강: 'the frost-falling' (one of the 24 seasonal divisions around 23-24 October).

The 24 seasonal divisions mentioned above are a reference to a list of 24 lunisolar terms used in East Asia to track the passage of seasons. Originally from China, this system of seasonal divisions can also be found in Korea, Vietnam, and Japan. Each division is associated with an event in the seasonal calender and follows the celestial longitude of the sun. Sanggang is the 18th solar division - beginning when the sun reaches a longitude of 210° and finishing at 225° - and marks the onset of falling temperatures and the start of frosts.

Getting back to my student's journal, I left a short message about sanggang coming from the traditional calendar -- adding that it was the start of colder temperatures and when people can see frost or ice for the first time in the year. This website also seems to suggest that it's the best time to sow barley. Next in the cycle was 입동 ("the start of winter"; November 7) and this weekend will be the start of 소설 ("minor snow"; November 22). You can find a list of the solar terms here.

[1] Sadly, my American coworker holds a drastically different view. She always complains when asked to check a diary, and it's very common to hear her say "What is this shit? Our students are fucking retards. Why are you making me do this?" Yeah, she's quite the professional.

[2] Sanggang is 상강 in Korean, which comes from the Chinese 霜降

Cabbages and radish lined up for sale in Uijeongbu

Kimjang season is here once again -- that time of year when families gather together to make kimchi for the upcoming winter months. I wrote a post about this topic last year, Kimjang - Winter Cabbage in Korea and Alsace, and recommend it for those interested in reading a bit more about the process. My friend from Yangju complained about her arm hurting during our meeting last weekend -- turns out that she had helped her mom and sisters prepare 80 cabbages a few days earlier. One of my coworkers shared similar sentiments after helping her family with a more manageable 20 cabbages.

I heard from a different friend that her mom makes kimchi throughout the year so they don't have to worry about doing a lot of work all at once. She also brought me a container of home-made kimchi for the second year running. Awesome!

One thing I failed to mention in that earlier post is that the earthenware pots used to store kimchi (as well as other foods) are called 'Onggi' in Korean. In fact, the city of Ulsan on the east coast of Korea holds an annual Onggi Expo that I was hoping to attend this year -- though, sadly, it was canceled due to concerns over H1N1. There is also a locally famous kiln site not far from Ulsan that I tried to visit last year before getting lost in a hamlet by Jiha Beach. Maybe I'm just not meant to see onggi being made?

The introduction of the "kimchi fridge" has made storing kimchi much more convenient for people today than in the past - particularly useful for those families living in the upper portions of high-rise apartment buildings - but it wasn't that long ago that one could see the following scenes:

( Images of Onggi (옹기) + Kimjang in America )

Near the start of last week Gord Sellar wrote a post of a few questions that had come to mind recently. While I was unable to offer any help involving shower practices in Korea, the questions concerning cats and cat-naming habits in Joseon-era Korea (1392-1910) were not only very interesting but also an area where I felt like I could add to the discussion. (Imagine that!) To quote from Gord's original entry:

The first thing I’m wondering about is the cat name “나비.” (For those of you not living here in Korea, the stereotype name for a cat is 나비. The Korean word for butterfly is the same.) I’m wondering:

1. Is the name actually butterfly, or just a homophone? (I’m pretty sure it’s the former, but I wanted to check.)
   
2. Are many cats actually named 나비 these days? Or is it like with the name “Fido” for dogs in English, a name we almost never actually see used, but which is the stereotype name for that animal, perhaps because it was at some point more common?
   
3. How far back is 나비 a stereotyped name for a cat? Was the name either stereotypical or in use during the late Joseon Dynasty? Any idea how far back the name was used for cats, or was stereotypical for cats? (ie. Do you know if there is an old literary reference to a cat named that way?)

I learned some very interesting information on account of Gord's question and Gomushin Girl's response. In addition to that, it was also very exciting to find that my very limited knowledge of Korean art history and language skills could be applied toward answering the original question. Our vice-director found the back-story to be rather interesting as well; considering how she's the person who introduced me to the Gansong Art Museum in the first place I have her to thank for what knowledge I do have on the subject!

ladybug from Ruth Flickr

At the end of last week my Korean coworkers asked me about the etymology behind the ladybug's name¹, but at the time I had to admit that I wasn't familiar with the origins of its name. Having forgotten about the subject over the weekend, it wasn't until my free class this afternoon that I got around to consulting the internet for assistance. While there are several sites that list the ladybug's name in various languages from around the world, etymological descriptions are much harder to find. Results like this seem pretty unhelpful, while even Dictionary.com has a limited amount of information. One of the first results from a Google search, however, is this page from Ladybug Legends & Lore!:

( Continue Reading ... Ladybugs and the Virgin Mary )

칠성무당벌레 from mio군의 야생화 이야기

After gathering all the knowledge together to present to my coworkers this afternoon I then decided to look up the Korean word for ladybug. I've learned the names of a few insects - and have a post talking about ants in Korea - but oddly enough ladybug is not one of the words that I know. A quick check on Naver yields the word 무당벌레 (mudang beollae), with the first half of its name (무당) being the same as the term used for shamans.

( Continue Reading ... Ladybugs and Korean Shamans )

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There's a great description of the Sino-Korean expression "부처님 손바닥 안에 있다" / "You are on Buddha's palm" going on at Amanda Takes Off that's well worth checking out. For background I'll tell you that it involves Sun Wukong (孫悟空; known as Monkey King in the West) from the tale 'Journey to the West' (西遊記) -- but to learn the rest you'll have to follow the link to Amanda's site.

My interest was caught by the discussion on account of not only having read 'Journey to the West' but also making the trip to Hsuan Tsang Temple (玄奘寺) - which claims to house the Sarira of Master Hsuan Tsang (or Xuán Zàng in Pinyin) - while visiting central Taiwan this past summer. To be honest I was a little surprised to see it described as 'almost required reading' for children given that none of my coworkers have even read the Korean historical accounts presented in the Samgak Yusa, but then I do have to admit that 'Journey to the West' is probably the more interesting story. (Plus, some creative license would likely need to take place with the Samguk Yusa in order to change the rape from Cheoyong's story into something more acceptable for young audiences.)

Sandy (사오정), Monkey (손오공), Xuanzang (삼장법사), and Pigsy (저팔계) from this site

'Journey to the West' has been used in a variety of contexts - a Wikipedia list of media adaptations covers everything from video games to science fiction novels and 19th century Japanese prints - but some of my favorite have been recent shorts aimed at hipper, urban audiences. The first example is a commercial created by Jamie Hewlett and Damon Albarn (from Gorillaz) for BBC Sport to advertise their 2008 Olympics coverage; the other two clips are the work of designer Ryosuke Tei for MTV Asia/China

( Videos Under The Cut ... )