It was a rainy Friday night in Itaewon. I was starving, my Korean was limited to “감사합니다,” and my phone was dying. I opened one app, saw a wall of Korean, and almost gave up and ate convenience store ramyun. But then I figured out the secret sauce. Now, I can have piping hot jjajangmyeon … Read more
It was a humid Thursday evening in Dongseongro, and I was standing in the middle of the busiest pedestrian street in Daegu. I had just been lightly shoved by an ajumma—no apology, no eye contact—while a group of students bumped into me without a second glance. My American brain screamed, “Where is the personal space?” … Read more
— I remember my first month in Hongdae. I’d sit in a corner cafe, nursing an overpriced Americano, watching groups of Koreans laugh and chain-smoke outside. I felt like a ghost in the most vibrant neighborhood on Earth. I tried the standard advice—going to “mixer” events—and ended up in a dingy basement bar talking to … Read more
I remember standing in the middle of my Dunsan-dong apartment parking lot at 11 PM, holding a broken desk lamp, staring at a pile of trash bags that were NOT mine. I was sweating. Not because it was July, but because I had no idea which bag went in which bin, and I was terrified … Read more
I’ve been here for a decade, and I still remember my first week in Itaewon. I was starving, my Korean was limited to “안녕하세요” and “감사합니다,” and I was staring at the Baemin app like it was a spaceship control panel. Every button was Korean, every menu item was a gamble, and I ended up … Read more
I’ve been here for a decade, and I still remember my first six months on Jeju. I thought the island’s small size meant people would be dying to chat me up. Instead, I spent my weekends drinking instant coffee alone, staring at Hallasan, and wondering why my “Hello!” was met with a polite smile and … Read more
I’ll never forget my third week in Busan. I was standing at Gwangan Station, drenched in sweat, frantically jabbing my fingers at the ticket machine. The screen was in Korean, my card kept getting rejected, and the gate wouldn’t budge. A kindly ajumma finally took pity on me, swiped her card, and waved me through—while … Read more
I remember my first week in Haeundae. I was jet-lagged, staring at the neon glow of the beachfront buildings, and desperately trying to video-call my mom. My international roaming plan was burning a hole in my wallet at $10 per 100MB. The convenience store clerk at the GS25 near the beach looked at my passport … Read more
I remember my first week in Bundang. I had just moved into my officetel near Jeongja Station, and my international roaming plan was burning a hole in my pocket. I walked into a massive KT store near the Bundang Central Park, armed with my ARC and a smile, ready to sign up. The staff looked … Read more
I remember my third week in Seomyeon, clutching a cup of convenience store coffee, wondering why my Korean coworkers kept sighing at my emails. I thought I was being polite. I was being direct. In Korea, that’s like showing up to a wedding in a swimsuit. Everything I learned about “professional communication” in the West … Read more