In this blog post, the author—who has been in Korea for three years—details her journey of learning Korean at ○○ University and Seoul National University, overcoming cultural differences, and growing as a person.
My Early Days in Korea and the Language Program at ○○ University
I vividly remember, as if it were yesterday, how I was filled with joy and excitement upon arriving in Korea. It’s already been three years since I arrived here, back when I was beaming with a wide smile, feeling like my dream had come true after being selected as a government-sponsored scholarship student. Comparing myself now to who I was three years ago, I feel as though I’ve grown from a child into an adult. That’s because it wasn’t just a time of hardship—it was a time when I worked hard to discover my own identity.
Looking back on the past three years, the year I spent at the Korean Language Institute at ○○ University was the happiest time of all. That’s because I lived without a single worry about the life at Seoul National University that lay ahead. Just as a child learns to speak from their mother, I learned Korean from scratch—starting with the basic “Gana-dara”—from my Korean teachers. I had a wonderful time traveling around Korea while studying Korean from beginner to advanced levels alongside my international friends. At the time, it was tough because I was studying hard with the goal of passing the Test of Proficiency in Korean (TOPIK), but looking back now, it makes me smile.
Although the students during my language study program came from various countries, we helped, understood, and cheered each other on like one big family. Hugging each other when times were tough and laughing together when we were happy—those close moments were the most memorable part of my life in Korea. We were able to become close friends, have our disagreements, and even experience beautiful love, transcending nationality and religion. The reason was that, through that year, we realized that we are all simply human beings.
It was very sad to leave ○○ University a year later, a place filled only with happy and precious memories. Not only was I parting ways with friends I had lived with like family, but I also felt the fear of taking my first step into actual Korean society. I entered the world-renowned Seoul National University with worries about whether I could study well, get along with Korean students, and adapt to Korean culture.
Life at Seoul National University: Senior-Junior Culture, Drinking Culture, and Competition
The first time I met my classmates and seniors was at the “Freshman Orientation.” The “Freshman Orientation” is a part of university culture designed to help freshmen and upperclassmen get to know each other through various games and activities. I had learned the word “senior” during my language training, but since I didn’t have anyone to actually call that, I hadn’t used it—until then, when I started using it regularly.
In Mongolia, the senior-junior relationship isn’t considered important, so few people paid much attention to it. That’s why I found it fascinating to see juniors showing respect to their seniors and seniors freely offering help to their juniors. At first, I didn’t realize how important seniors were, so I didn’t even greet them properly or try to get close to them. I thought that as long as I worked hard on my own, I could succeed without their help. This mindset of mine is a clear example of the cultural difference between Korea and Mongolia.
To succeed in Korea, while it’s important to be competent yourself, interpersonal relationships—cooperating with seniors and juniors and helping one another—are highly valued. In other words, through my two years at Seoul National University, I learned that not only my skills but also my relationships with others greatly influence whether I succeed. At first, it was very difficult for me to accept this cultural difference. I found it hard to understand because I thought, “I just need to do well myself—what do other people have to do with me?”
However, one day my perspective changed completely. I felt great comfort and joy when a senior came to help me while I was struggling. From that moment on, I realized that people are happy when they help one another. So, to overcome this cultural difference, I stepped out of my “comfort zone” and began striking up conversations with Korean students. At first, I was scared and lacked confidence, but after meeting many wonderful seniors who understood me, I gradually began to feel more at ease.
Another thing that struck me as fascinating in Korean society was the drinking culture. Getting together with classmates to drink wasn’t a one-time or two-time occurrence. In particular, there were frequent gatherings involving drinking games, such as “Freshman Orientation,” welcome parties for new students, and the start-of-semester party. In Mongolia, while students do drink, it’s not common for everyone to gather and play drinking games.
Also, in Mongolia, students drinking alcohol isn’t viewed positively, so being able to hold your liquor isn’t something to boast about. In Korea, however, being able to hold your liquor was sometimes seen as a sign of good self-management. It struck me as an amazing ability that Korean students could attend morning classes without missing a beat—even after drinking until the early hours of the morning—and study while still intoxicated. Even now, three years later, my view that Koreans drink a lot hasn’t changed, but my perspective on that culture has shifted.
I’ve come to see drinking not necessarily as a bad thing, but as one way to enjoy life. I get the sense that Koreans face more stress than people in Mongolia, so there are times when they have no choice but to drink, and I’ve come to think of it as one way to relieve that stress. I, too, began to enjoy drinking due to the stress of college life.
When it comes to studying, the first thing that comes to mind is “competition.” As the only international student in my department, studying in Korean and competing with Korean students was incredibly difficult. When all the students were laughing at the professor’s jokes, I was the only one who couldn’t laugh; when they seemed to understand the lecture content, I felt like I was the only one staring blankly, and my heart was always heavy. It truly felt like I had gone straight from kindergarten to college.
I couldn’t understand why I had to attend lectures I didn’t grasp, and every time I went to class, I felt like I was wasting my time. While Korean students easily picked up concepts in lectures, I had to spend entire days reading books on my own to learn the same material. Reports that others finished in an hour or two often took me a full day to complete. Not only was it difficult to understand and absorb my major coursework, but my limited Korean made it feel like 24 hours a day wasn’t enough.
Even when I studied hard day and night, there were many times I couldn’t write a single word on the exam paper and had to turn it in blank. Still, not wanting to give up, I often pulled all-nighters for days on end. However, the results didn’t match my efforts, and though I felt so frustrated I wanted to cry, I didn’t even have time to cry because I had to keep studying. I still face many difficulties due to my limited Korean, but my language skills have improved significantly compared to before.
Even if I don’t fully understand the lectures, I can grasp them to some extent now, and I’ve become a bit more confident in expressing my thoughts. Through this growth, I’ve realized that nothing in this world comes for free—you have to shed sweat and tears to achieve anything.
The two years I spent at Seoul National University were the most difficult period of my life, but at the same time, they were the time when I learned the most. I believe it was a valuable time that taught me what it means to “study,” how to study, and how to enjoy life through knowledge. And from the very day I was admitted to Seoul National University, I knew that even if things got really tough, as long as I didn’t give up, I would surely succeed someday.
When I first came to Korea, I knew only one word: “Hello.” Yet the fact that I am now writing this in the school library—though it may seem like a small thing to others—represents significant growth and a major transformation for me. It is a positive change and proof of what “Sundarya” is capable of and how I can grow; it gives me personal satisfaction and the strength to strive even harder in the future.
Just as my life has changed in this way, I firmly believe that I, too, will become a wise person and a talented individual capable of positively transforming someone else’s life.
