I remember my first three months in Yongsan. I’d go to bars in Itaewon, high-five other foreigners, and complain about the lack of cheese in Korean convenience stores. It was comfortable. It was also a bubble. Then my Korean landlord’s wife—a fierce ajumma who ran a tiny fried chicken spot near Noksapyeong—asked me in broken … Read more
I remember my first month in Bundang. I stood in the middle of Homeplus, staring at a 10kg bag of rice, utterly defeated. It wasn’t the weight. It was the fact that I had just spent 20 minutes trying to buy it, only to realize I needed to flag down an ajumma for the *price … Read more
— I remember my first July in Busan. I stepped out of my one-room near Kyungsung University, and the air hit me like a wet blanket. I was sweating through my shirt by the time I reached the corner convenience store. I looked like I had just run a marathon, and I hadn’t even walked … Read more
— I remember my first July in Pyeongtaek. I stepped outside my apartment near Camp Humphreys at 7 AM, and the air hit me like a wet blanket straight from a dryer. Within five minutes, my shirt was soaked, and my glasses fogged up so badly I couldn’t read the crosswalk signal. I thought, “This … Read more
Let me paint you a picture. It’s my first week in Busan, I’m jet-lagged, sweating through my shirt in the Gwangalli humidity, and I just spent 45 minutes in a convenience store trying to explain to the ajumma that I needed a phone number—not just a WiFi password—while my phone showed zero bars and my … Read more
I remember my first month near Kyungsung University. I thought I was doing great. I’d navigated the metro, ordered tteokbokki without pointing, and even got a smile from the ajumma at the corner store. Then, my Korean friend added me to a group KakaoTalk chat for a weekend hike. Within 3 hours, I had 214 … Read more
I remember my first month in the Pusan National University area. I was fresh off the plane, staring at a bank account shrinking faster than ice cream in a Busan summer. I paid 15,000 won for a “budget” meal near the Kyungsung Univ Station exit that was basically a sad, overpriced salad. I felt like … Read more
I remember my first trip to the immigration office in Ansan. I had taken a half-day off work, printed every document I could think of, and arrived at 7:30 AM ready to conquer the system. Three hours later, I was sitting on the floor outside the main gate, re-reading a notice that said I needed … Read more
I’ve been here for 10 years, but I still remember my first week in Sinchon. I was at a pojangmacha tent, trying to pay for my soju with a credit card. The ahjumma just stared at me, then pointed to the cash. I didn’t know I was supposed to hand her the money with two … Read more
I remember the first time I ended up in a Gangnam hospital with a kidney stone the size of a grape. I was sweating through my shirt, unable to form a single coherent sentence in Korean. The receptionist at the international clinic was on lunch break. The emergency room sign was in Hangul. I pointed … Read more