Koreans try to bridge linguistic divide k

来源:百度文库 编辑:神马文学网 时间:2024/04/27 22:16:11

Koreans try to bridge linguistic divide

What is Korean for Frappuccino? A bewildered North Korean defector cowering beneath the menu at a Starbucks in Seoul epitomises a growing linguistic schism that is forcing North and South Koreans apart and could complicate any eventual reunification.

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“Words like Americano and other foreign words on the menu make life tough for us,” says Park Sang-hak, who now works for a human rights group after fleeing Kim Jong-il’s dictatorship. “South Koreans do not understand what we say and ask us to repeat ourselves. Then we clam up and become shy.”


The North and South Korean languages have grown apart so severely over 65 years of division that both countries have agreed to collaborate on a joint dictionary to stem the growing confusions. North Korea’s language is filled with ideological terminology while South Korean is awash with foreign words.


Thirsty South Koreans happily order a “juice” but North Koreans ask for “danmul” – literally “sweet water” – a word that is greeted in Seoul with either bemusement or derision depending on how forgiving the waitress is.


In just a foretaste of the problems that could arise at unification, many North Korean defectors already complain that linguistic differences are a source of discrimination and lead to their unfair dismissal from jobs.


Still, Han Yong-un, South Korea’s head of the dictionary project, said these social pitfalls were not his immediate priority.
“We are mostly concerned with technical and academic language. At the moment, North and South Korean doctors cannot conduct an operation together and architects cannot co-operate to construct a building together,” he said.


Mr Han heads a team of 30 lexicographers on the 12th storey of an office block in central Seoul. Penned in their cubicles, they have been elucidating problematic words since 2005, meeting North Korean colleagues to chew over thorny definitions four times a year.

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But politics has intervened. Since Seoul accused North Korea of torpedoing one of its warships in March, with the loss of 46 sailors, the dictionary teams have been working in isolation. Any hope of resuming the meetings has been scotched by North Korea’s bombardment of a South Korean island last month, making the 2014 deadline for completing the 370,000-word project increasingly improbable.


Mr Han says the North has agreed to distribute the completed dictionary to libraries and universities. South Korea’s lexicographers, sponsored by Seoul’s unification ministry, plan to issue shorter volumes for professional spheres such as medicine and technology.


In the simplest cases, problems derive from old regional differences, with North and South Koreans using different words for “geese” and “wolves”.


South Koreans import foreign words whereas North Koreans create indigenous ones. For example, shoppers in Seoul buying tights will simply ask for “stocking” whereas North Koreans have a pure Korean word “salyangmal” meaning “skin-sock”. Mascara in North Korea is “nunsseobmeok” or “eyelash-ink”.


For the South Korean dictionary compilers, the toughest words are political. Words such as “comrade” are far more loaded in North Korea, thanks to decades of Soviet influence. Most difficult is the word “juche” which is the North Korean state ideology, often translated as self-sufficiency. To South Koreans the word simply means “subject”.


With such sensitive entries, Mr Han keeps the definitions as dry as possible while including dozens of literary examples to show how each country uses the word differently.


“These artificial political terms are expected to vanish once the countries unify,” he says.


Many defectors insist the main challenges are not vocabulary but accent, intonation and manners. South Koreans, who have an extremely courteous culture of client service, find North Koreans abrupt and rude. In turn, North Koreans find South Korean language effeminate and insincere.


“We try to mimic newscasters on television but I have still got my accent,” says Jang Sung-geun, who works as a taxi driver in Seoul after defecting 10 years ago and claims that police have discriminated against him because of the way he speaks. “We can somehow overcome the foreign words in South Korea, but our accent is difficult to fix.”



FT