Notes from Korea

I currently don’t really like Korea, and I think, to some extent, it has to do with my expectations before I arrived. I expected to make Korean friends somewhat easily and to connect with this part of my heritage, but I feel very out of place here. This has made me realize that shared DNA doesn’t mean shared culture, language, or ways of behaving. I also expected the culture to be welcoming to foreigners, which, to me, it isn’t really. It’s welcoming to tourists, but only to an extent they often seem to be treated more as cash cows than as people. In most countries I’ve visited, I’m used to being greeted, whereas here I feel very isolated, like an invisible person. Beneath my “I don’t like Korea” feeling, I realize that I don’t like feeling invisible or disconnected from others. I think this experience has amplified some loneliness I might have already been feeling in the States, and it has made me feel as though there aren’t many countries that would be truly welcoming to foreigners. ...

Sometimes I catch myself thinking, “I feel so broke.” Rent is expensive, transcations pile up, etc. In the U.S., this seems normal. We all feel stretched thin, constantly comparing ourselves to people who seem to have it all together like influencers or Ivy League students. And yet, when I step back, I realize how skewed that perspective really is. Compared to most of the world, my life is extremely privileged. I have access to safety, education, mobility, and opportunities in terms of my career that millions maybe billions will never experience. My country is the most economically powerful, my basic needs are met, and my future is full of options. It’s strange to hold both feelings at once: the day-to-day stress of feeling “broke” relatively and the broader awareness of just how lucky I am. I’m learning to sit with that tension, to acknowledge both and to let it guide me toward gratitude and conscious choices without guilt consuming the joy of living. In Florida, 35.8% of adults hol...

In my Korean class at Sogang KLEC (Level 2), there are students from China, Japan, Thailand, France, Germany, and even someone from Puerto Rico. Out of all the students, I get along best with the person from Puerto Rico, the people from France, and the Thai students. The students from Japan are nice as well, though. My first month here was rough. I was super reserved and honestly not putting in as much effort as I should have to study Korean. I was in over my head, and with ADHD and anxiety, I wasn’t making the time to review my flashcards. I’m probably one of the weaker students in the class, especially because many of the other students have already been in Korea for 3–6 months, giving them an edge in natural exposure to the language. Transitioning from my English bubble into full Korean mode was a huge shock, even after the intensive summer workshop I did. I remember not wanting to come on this trip last month, and I’m still battling feelings of homesickness and being out of place...

 One of the most striking cultural phenomena I’ve noticed in Korea is how visible and celebrated couple culture is. Being single here feels like it’s spelled out in a hundred subtle ways and couples are very obviously highlighted in public spaces. Weekends, especially Fridays and Saturdays, are prime time for couple-focused activities. It’s not uncommon to see heterosexual couples wearing matching outfits , holding hands, and going out for treats like frozen yogurt or to the movies. Restaurants and cafes often cater specifically to two people . You’ll find “twosome” spots designed for just two chairs or tables, and noraebangs (karaoke rooms) set up for pairs. There are even 24/7 bouquet stores , making it easy for couples to buy flowers at any hour. In places like Hongdae or Incheon, there are love hotels where couples can rent a room for just an hour or two. From my perspective, it’s a little overwhelming to see how much emphasis is on romantic pairings here. There is larger so...

One of the biggest culture shocks I’ve had in Korea is how people interact in shared spaces. It’s so quiet here on buses, in kitchens, and other communal areas compared to the U.S. I’m used to hearing people talk or exchange small comments in these spaces, so the silence really stands out. The food has also surprised me. Dishes like guksu , the spicy foods, and the many soups which are often less heavily seasoned than what I’m used to in the U.S. caught me off guard. Another thing that stood out is the number of foreign languages I hear in Seoul. English is everywhere as a lingua franca, but it’s actually a minority language here; for most people, it’s not their first language including other foreigners. That part isn’t too shocking since I’ve traveled before, but the difference is that I have more communicative ability in Spanish than in Korean so I was able to talk more in Central America. The language barrier here feels more limiting. I’ve also been struck by the importance of sa...

 The Paleolithic era on the Korean Peninsula was marked by gradual technological development and adaptive lifestyles. Early humans used direct percussion to make large, roughly shaped stone tools such as handaxes and chopping tools, which were suitable for hunting, processing food, digging, and woodworking. These early tools, dating as far back as around 79,000 years ago (approximately 77,000 BCE) , reflect advanced cognitive abilities despite their simplicity. Around 40,000 years ago, people began producing smaller, sharper stone blades through techniques like pressure flaking , creating microblades and tanged points for hunting and other specialized tasks. Camps were often established on hillsides or near rivers, reflecting a mobile lifestyle. Paleolithic diets were diverse and adaptable, gradually incorporating more meat as tool use advanced. Overall, the period demonstrates a progression from large, utilitarian tools to more sophisticated and specialized stone technology, ill...

I've noticed that as I navigate Korea, my default is to assume that if I see a Northeast Asian person, I should use some Korean, so I'll usually say annyeonghaseyo . What has been quite humbling is being corrected by people from China and told, "I'm not Korean." This has happened twice, and I think for Chinese people they do get a bit offended when Westerners can’t automatically distinguish them as Chinese. A study by Wang et al., Do They All Look the Same? Deciphering Chinese, Japanese and Koreans by Fine-Grained Deep Learning (University of Rochester, 2016), provides some insight. The researchers found subtle differences in facial and cultural markers across the three groups: Bangs are most popular among Japanese and least popular among Chinese. Japanese smile the most and Chinese the least. Japanese have the most eyebags, followed by Koreans. Chinese are most likely to have bushy eyebrows. Koreans are most likely to have black hair, and Japanese ...