Namja!!

Quick preface- I've been meaning to write for a while, but previous attempts starting with apologies usually derailed the process so here's the start of what I hope will be a better writing streak!


For any of you who speak any Korean, you know that "namja"(남자) means "man." Fairly simple. And for you who don't, mini lesson in Korean: the L-looking character is an n, the ㅏ is "ah," the box with legs is m, the headless guy is j and then there's ㅏ again. Look! You can read Korean- you're brilliant! This is one of the few dozen words I have acquired in Korean due to the brilliance of Rosetta Stone. I'm still working on such things as "restroom" and "plastic recyclables" (to my dismay each time I take our items down to the apartment complex waste area, only to be rebuked by the guy there). But I digress.

One fine evening last week the hubs and I went up to the Seoul area to hang out with a friend of his who happened to be in the country for a few days. He introduced us to some of his english teaching friends and we had ourselves a right little Cinco de Mayo party all told, complete with any random Spanish music that could be found online and some respectable burritos and even a few Coronas. Afterward some of us ventured out into the pouring rain to find a no-rae-bahng (karaoke house) and enjoy the evening further.

In Korea, people often live with their parents into their 30s/until they are married mostly as an economic arrangement. This has led to a category of business (love motels) aimed at the market of young adults who are under constant parental supervision to facilitate time away with their special someone. Which also happen to be clean, comfortable and wonderfully cheap to the passing foreigner who doesn't mind whatever scorn is directed at such establishments (the parking area ceilings are often shrouded in cloth privacy danglies, lobby doors opaque, cash paid up front, etc).

After our enjoyable evening out, the hubs and I found the nearest motel to get out of the rain and checked in for the night. He then remembered that he had forgotten his backpack earlier and needed to go retrieve it. I, tired, sopping wet and a bit discombobulated from the Cinco partying, stripped out of my wet clothes and sprawled on the bed, beginning to doze off.

The next thing I know, there was a small, loud  and adamant older Korean lady in our room shouting things I can't understand. I tried to both understand and speak to her, belatedly realized both that I was stark nekkid in front of her and that she didn't even knock before entering the room to have this enlightened discourse. I dove under the covers, then tried again to puzzle out what the heck she was trying to convey.

Motel lady: AJGKDJALSD KSDFKNG KSDFG LEHRLTI ONJDKH NAMJA!
Me: Ummm.... oh yeah, namja!
Motel lady: LADSHFIN AKSNDFK DKERN AKSDNFIH KSNDKHA NAMJA?
Me: Ne, namja (yes, the man)
Motel lady: INGKGSDJ TAHGKD PASKMGKH WIENKNSG NAMJA!
Me: Namja? (Shrug)
Motel lady: Namja!
Me: Oh boy.....

This exchange went on for a few minutes, with "namja" as our only common word. I worked out that she was looking for the hubs, but couldn't really communicate that I knew nothing about when he would return. I eventually thought to call him, located my phone and began dialing, at which point the good man stepped in the room and returned the umbrella he had apparently borrowed from the innkeeper. She was on her way with a parting, victorious "Namja!" while pointing at my husband. All for an umbrella. The moral I took from this experience:

1) My current level of Korean is useless, and
2) Deadbolt doors in such motels, or pay the price of naked confused conversation in the future.

Vocab of the day:
Korean: 남자/namja = man
Military: WOA = warning of attack