Lost in Translation: Hangul is Hard Work

I met Kim Cheong Sun, my new Korean teacher, again today at 11:20 for my second language lesson. With last week's Korean National Day holiday falling on Friday, a week had lapsed since our first session together. But I had done my homework, and put in several hours of study time, trying to master the two pages of hangul characters and new vocabulary words she had assigned to me.

As I walked down to the school to meet her, I thought back about twenty years, to the days when I'd be walking across the subdivision to the house of my piano teacher, Dee Stoutenborough. I remember distinctly the weeks when I had really practiced hard, when I knew I had made real progress and was sure to meet with the praise of my pleased teacher. And those same familiar feelings began surfacing again -- excitement tinged with apprehension, wondering if I had done enough to earn Cheong Sun's mark of approval. (When did this "need to please" begin with me? I'm amazed to think I've never outgrown it!)

The lesson was hard work, as the language barrier between us is so incredibly thick. It is all I can do for the bulk of the lesson to try to latch on to the simplest of syllables she speaks and repeat them back. I'm not entirely sure she even wants me to repeat what she's saying, but I haven't yet learned how to distinguish otherwise. We worked through a review of last week's vocabulary, for which I earned two thumbs up and a big smile from my teacher.

Then came Part II, a drill of the final segment of hangul characters for me to memorize -- diphthongs (blended vowels) that tested my listening skills to the extreme. The difference between /yeh/ and /yae/ are negligible, but more difficult still are three diphthongs, each spelled with a unique character, but all of which seem to bear an indistinguishable /weh/ sound. God help me if I'm ever going to learn how to distinguish between the three!

The word study that followed should have seemed a natural progression from the diphthongs... only, I had a dozen very similarly-shaped characters swimming around in my head and was at a loss to keep any of them straight! Rather than sounding out any of the syllables on my own, the exercise turned out to be another parroting session: I watched and listened intently while Cheong Sun formed the word, and then tried my darndest to replicate it at least close enough that my attempt was passable. From the final tally of remediated pronunciations, I don't think I did so hot.

Being the language student of a teacher who speak next to nothing of my native tongue has connected me in new ways to my English students. It's discomforting and somewhat discouraging to leave a 50-minute lesson feeling as though I've probably managed to comprehend about 5% of it. Sometimes I forget that I'm teaching language learners, and fall back into my normal clip and pace of talking and giving instruction. But the truth of it is, it can be extremely exhausting to be sitting in the student's seat, fighting over comprehension of every word. I have a new appreciation for my students.

So I'm going to keep plugging away at Korean. I still feel as though my brain has next to no constructs to begin sorting out and making sense of this foreign language I am trying to wrap my head around. But I'm not a quitter. I'll work on these hangul characters. I'll finish mastering these diphthongs. And I'll make a fresh batch of flashcards to see me through until Friday's lesson.