“How do people in Seoul read this?”
A Never-ending Dialect Rhapsody for Korean-speaking Korean speakers across the eight provinces

Cartoonist Dadraegi has extraordinary language skills.
His true value is revealed when he uses foreign languages ​​such as Seoul dialect, Busan dialect, Daegu dialect, and Jeju dialect, rather than foreign languages ​​such as English, Japanese, or French (in fact, there are even characters in his comics who speak the Gaeseong dialect).
When I see people speaking in dialects from various regions as if they were really there, I am amazed by the variety of language variations and the skill with which they vividly reproduce the sounds of speech in writing.
First of all, if it's not too much trouble, I really want to ask.
Excuse me, but… where are you from?

"Anyway, Dialect" is the first collection of essays by cartoonist Dadraegi, who was born and raised in Busan, then moved to Suncheon and settled in Gwangju.
The author left for Suncheon, Jeolla Province, around the age of twenty with the dream of becoming a cartoonist.
Because at the time, the only national university with a cartoon department was located there.
Perhaps due to Suncheon's geographical location between Jeolla-do and Gyeongsang-do, people from various regions of Yeongnam and Honam gathered at the university.
The novel and unusual dialects heard here and there were unfamiliar for a moment, but then the 'Hwagae Market dialect' sprouted, with old words from Jeolla-do and other regions infiltrating here and there based on the Gyeongsang-do dialect.
The author says that even now, when passing through the old toll gate on the way from Jeolla Province to Busan, an unidentified dialect that had been deeply dormant bursts out.
A single word that arouses the listener's endless curiosity begins like this.
“Oh my, it’s been a while since I’ve been here. Busan has changed so much, I can’t even recognize it! It’s really changed a lot, don’t you think?”

“Oh my! T-ttugbra!”
“You fell off your bike and you want to change it? What the heck!”
Can you feel this natural collaboration between Gyeongsang-do and Jeolla-do?
Words that can never be said on purpose.
These are not words I learned by deliberately following them or being scolded, but words that have been absorbed and taken root within me.
The Gyeongsang dialect, which was further strengthened by the influence of the Gyeongsangnam-do friends I met in Suncheon for five years, and the Jeolla dialect, which was internalized after living in Jeolla-do for nearly 20 years, were mixed together, resulting in my own way of speaking that is much more distant from Busan.

--- p.16

“Customer, if you look at the bottom right corner of the largest text that says ‘Bill,’ you will see a black box inside a blue box.
Can you see it?”
“Huh? That’s it.
“There it is.”
“In that table, the bottom box will say ‘Current Monthly Fee’ and the amount will appear next to it.
“Aren’t you positive?”
"Aren't you positive?" The sudden question, "Aren't you positive?", thrown in after a clear and concise explanation, is a question that can only come from a Jeolla-do native who has perfectly mastered the dialect.
An unintentional “Pfft!” burst out of my mouth.
At that time, all the eyes of the twenty-five superintendents and the education team leader were focused on me.
But it wasn't a look of reproach for laughing.
It was a look of genuine curiosity.
I realized it the moment my seatmate next to me mouthed 'Why?'
No one is saying that this situation is funny or strange right now.
What the heck, am I the only one laughing?
--- pp.28-29

As we grew up, my sister and I lived in different places, and our speech evolved to suit our respective backgrounds.
My sister, who has been teaching in Gyeonggi-do for over 20 years, speaks with a really neat upper-class accent.
It is a sophistication on a different level from mine, which evolved while rolling around the Hwagae market.
I should be used to it by now, but I still get goosebumps when I hear my sister's Gyeonggi dialect when I occasionally run into her on the phone or while shopping with her.
My sister's shameless attitude, as if she were speaking two languages, is still disgusting to see, but she has now reached a point where she doesn't even notice my glare.
Is this the power of salary?
But if it's just the two of us, my sister's seal will inevitably be broken.
When words that are close to instinct come out without going through consciousness, I realize anew how much dialect I have forgotten over the years.

--- pp.47-48

Similar to "unnie", "oppa" is also a word that is used comfortably between close siblings or those who speak informally.
As a female student from Gyeongsang Province who can't even say the word "oppa" to others because it makes her cringe, let alone call me "oppa," when I hear a touching comment that I can't tell if it's out of curiosity or flirting, "I think it's really cute when you call me "oppa," I can't help but think this.
Since when did you know me, Yaga?
--- p.67

You can also use 'hey' to threaten your opponent.
Compared to the Jeolla dialect, which puts a lot of effort into the content and description of even one curse, the Gyeongsang dialect is short and simple, so you just need to say a title loudly and strongly.
The moment the opponent says “Oppa!!!!!!” instead of “Oppa~”, a battle may begin.
So, those who ask for Oppa at first sight, be prepared for all kinds of variations of the past questions.

--- p.68

Incorporating now-forgotten or little-used words into my work serves as a way to connect characters across generations as a family unit, and also to show how dramatically different people can come together.
And the reason I try to include as many everyday phrases as possible in my comics is because I hope that as more people get together, more interesting phrases will be born.
Isn't it fun to search Google and ask AI speakers questions to find out what I'm talking about?

--- pp.123-124