Sometimes my middle school students talk to me in Korean, even though they're perfectly capable of expressing themselves in English. Partly, this is to indicate a different pragmatics: it shifts control of the discourse from me to them, since I'm the one with limited Korean ability. I think they derive some satisfaction from that. So, especially during times of just chatting or joking around, they'll start talking in Korean, but still talking to me. This is remarkable, because half the time I don't understand them, but I fake it pretty well, and I guess they enjoy the notion that they're "teaching" me, too.
On Friday night, some girls in my HS2M cohort had the giggles. Well, certain types of 8th grade girls often have the giggles. I said, somewhat jokingly, "Are you going to stop laughing? Ever?"
One girl, Gayeong, said, painting a serious face for just a very short time, "But, Teacher! I have 웃음조절장애!".
I laughed pretty hard. "웃음조절장애" means, roughly, "Laughter control disability" - with the same formal or vaguely medicalized discourse level. It's the way a Koran child psychologist might talk about it, if it were considered an actual disability. So it was a joke.
I'll have to remember the experession.
[daily log: walking, 1km]
If you can understand the phrase "laughter control disability" and compare it to other (actual) medical terms, I think your working knowledge of Korean is pretty good. I've noticed that you have been making more posts within the last few years about Korean you do understand, as opposed to posting about what you don't understand. Seems like progress to me...
Posted by: Bob Gehrenbeck | 2018.05.21 at 20:31