From How your job is killing you by James Adonis in the Sydney Morning Herald (I try to avoid giving free publicity to companies, but I’ve got to credit my sources):
The Japanese have a word, karōshi, to describe people who work themselves to death. … In China the word used is guolaosi. … South Korea, too, has a term for this pervasive condition: gwarosa.
A little bit of linguistic knowledge shows that those are actually the same word, in the pronunciation systems of those three languages. Japanese and Korean have borrowed a large number of words directly from Chinese, and have also created new words themselves from Chinese characters.
Twice last year I saw the Korean movie 오빠 생각 (o-ppa saeng-gak, Thoughts of my older brother or Thinking of my older brother, titled in English A melody to remember) once in a cinema in Korea (without English subtitles) and once on the aeroplane returning to Australia (with English subtitles), and blogged about it here and here.
I occasionally browse through a language bookshop in the Sydney CBD. Some months ago, sometime after I returned to Australia I saw a book called something like Korean Songs and Stories. One of the songs is Thinking of Older Brother, which provides the title, but not the story, of the movie. (The song dates from the Japanese occupation; the movie is set during the Korean war.) The background to the song is:
During the Japanese occupation of Korea (1910-1945), eleven-year-old Choi Sun Ae’s brother went to Seoul to buy shoes and never returned, inspiring her to write these lyrics. The cheerful music – written by Park Tae Jun – may seem like a strange contrast to the sad words, but during the occupation the Japanese prohibited songs that were negative or depressing in nature. Having a relatively “happy” melody was a way of masking mournful sentiments.
I didn’t want to buy the book for one song (though I might have been able to make use of the other ones), so I surreptitiously took a photo of this song. Unfortunately I can’t credit the editor and publisher. I am posting this now, some months after finding that book, because I’ve just been sorting through old photos.
We drove to a small town in the Blue Mountains famous for its autumn leaves. On the way, I saw a sign which might have said:
which makes sense in the Blue Mountains. The second one definitely said:
Just as we were leaving the small town, I saw a sign saying:
I guess to those living in a quiet mountain town, everything else seems wild.
I’m back to spending large amounts of time sitting on Sydney trains. Three trains of thought (haha!) arose recently.
Throughout the carriages are a number of posters advising of good behaviour on trains, usually in rhyming couplets. One which is not a direct rhyme is:
Cover your cough
or sneeze please
This is undoubtedly meant to be ‘Cover your (cough or sneeze) please’, but the line break means that it could be interpreted as ‘(Cover your cough) or (sneeze) please’ – that is, instructing us to sneeze.