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Grace In A Foreign Land
Today, I begin my 14th year here in South Korea.
Fourteen years ago, I boarded a plane carrying more than luggage. I carried questions. I carried fear. I carried unfinished conversations with the people I loved. And yet, above all, I carried conviction — the kind that whispers, Go. There is more waiting for you.
Time has a way of softening distances and turning foreign places into familiar ground. What was once unknown has become part of my story. What once felt like exile became expansion. And in all these years, I have come to understand that certain decisions do not merely change your address — they change your direction.
South Korea did not simply become my workplace; it became a refining ground. Here, I grew not only as an educator but as a thinker, a writer, and a man of faith. The classrooms sharpened my discipline. The solitude deepened my introspection. The unfamiliar culture stretched my perspective. This land became the platform on which I learned to rebuild, rediscover my purpose, and pursue excellence beyond the limits of my former comfort zone.
I thank the Lord for sustaining me through every season — through doubt, through growth, through silent battles no one else saw. And I thank this country for serving as the backdrop to one of the most defining chapters of my life.
But every long journey has a beginning. Every transformation has a first trembling step.
And mine began with a single day — a day marked by cold air, empty rooms, unanswered calls, unexpected kindness, and a faith that refused to collapse.
That first day in South Korea is something I will never forget.
It was in the early dawn of March 2, 2013 when I left the Philippines aboard Asiana Airlines. Around eight in the morning, the plane landed at Busan International Airport. At that time, Mr. Kenn Lachenal was with me. We were both headed to South Korea to teach English at Gyeongju University.
I admit that during that time, I was overwhelmed — not because of drugs, but because of the many thoughts about my loved ones and the anxiety over the new challenge I had chosen to face.
It was against my will to leave my loved ones behind, but it was necessary. I also did not want to step away from the school I had served as Principal for almost a year. Yet I have always refused to be ruled by my emotions. I did not want to avoid a decision simply because I surrendered to feelings. I carefully thought through my decision to go to South Korea to teach. It was not impulsive. It was part of my plans — a long-considered intention whose time had finally come. I would not allow my emotions to stop me.
It was not the desire for a higher salary that drove me abroad. I was already earning well as a principal. On top of that, I was working as an academic consultant at a technical school and as a part-time college instructor. Financially, I was stable. I had even built a house. The problem was this — I was no longer comfortable in my comfort zone.
I had grown weary of supervising teachers and employees. It felt stagnant — no longer challenging. Something was missing — something I longed to find. Personal issues that needed resolution did not help either. It became clear to me that I needed a radical change in my life if I wanted to preserve my sanity. I had to go somewhere new for a fresh beginning.
I felt as though I was at a dead end — yet I knew there was a world beyond dead ends. That was the world I wanted to reach… to explore.
As Jake Sully, the main character in Avatar, once said, “Sometimes your whole life boils down to one insane move.” Like Jake, though I felt fear, I was certain of my decision before I jumped to wrestle and tame my own “Toruk.”
I brought only two things with me to South Korea — self-confidence and faith in God. That combination has always been my shield against trials and my hook for reaching whatever I aspire to achieve.
I was not seeking luck in this country; I do not believe in luck. I believe that “God gives mercy, but man must act.” My purpose was to write a new chapter of my life here — a new phase in the destiny I believe I must draw for myself.
It was my first time traveling abroad, and I was fortunate to be with Mr. Lachenal. Aside from being helpful, he was experienced in overseas travel. Since we were both headed to Gyeongju University, I was confident I would not get lost.
When we arrived at Busan International Airport, I was shocked by the cold. It pierced through my jacket. I had assumed that since winter had ended and spring was beginning, the weather would be like Baguio. Thankfully, the bus we took to Gyeongju-si had its heater running. Though I was sleepy, I could not fall asleep during the ride. I kept looking at every place we passed. I said to myself, “Here I am in South Korea.”
After nearly two hours, we arrived in Gyeongju-si. Mr. Mark Celis welcomed us. He brought us to the apartments where we would stay — Mr. Lachenal to the “white house,” and me to the “blue house.” Not the White House of Washington D.C., nor any political residence in Seoul — those were simply the names given to the apartments provided by Gyeongju University for foreign professors. They were named after their paint colors. There was also a “yellow house” and a “green house.”
Before leaving, Mr. Celis ensured that my unit was in order and introduced me to another Filipino professor at Gyeongju University — Dr. Randy Tolentino, who also lived in the “blue house.”
When I entered my room, I felt for the first time what it truly meant to be alone — far from loved ones, in an unfamiliar place. I simply stood there, unsure of what to do first.
After regaining composure, I opened my suitcase and slowly arranged my belongings.
The surroundings were silent. I heard nothing but my own footsteps. I could even hear my heartbeat and the sound of my swallowing. After arranging my clothes and things, I suddenly felt the intense cold again — and hunger. The refrigerator was empty. There was a gas stove, but nothing to cook. I made do with the biscuits I had brought from the Philippines.
Then I remembered I needed to call my loved ones to inform them I had arrived safely. When I reached for my cellphone, I realized I had not activated roaming on my SIM card. I felt foolish. I cursed under my breath. I could not call anyone; my phone was nothing more than a music player.
I admit that at that moment, deep sadness overwhelmed me. I was still hungry despite finishing almost all my biscuits. I was shivering from the cold. The silence felt deafening. I was alone, with no one to talk to. I also worried that my loved ones were already anxious, waiting for news from me.
In that moment, I understood the true meaning of HOMESICKNESS — just hours after landing in South Korea.
But amid that sadness, I looked up to heaven and remembered that I had prayed many times for the chance to come to this country. I do not know why, but as far as I know, He has never ignored my prayers. I even wrote a poem about it in English — seven syllables only:
He answers.
Just wait.
Have faith!
I was about to lie down to drown my hunger and sadness in sleep when I heard knocks at my door. It was Randy.
He came in and talked with me. He was from Iloilo. At least I had someone to speak with now. While we talked, he looked at my stove and showed me how to operate it. He must have noticed I was cold, because he also taught me how to use the floor heater. I felt somewhat relieved by his help. He opened the kitchen drawers and found a few cans of food left behind by the previous tenant. He left briefly and returned with packs of noodles and some 3-in-1 coffee.
I was surprised by the generosity Randy showed, whom I would later call Sir Randy. It was as though he had known me for years. He stepped out again and returned, saying, “Come on, bro, my girlfriend has cooked. Let’s eat.”
I followed him to his unit. I was surprised, but I did not hesitate — not because I was desperately hungry, but because I felt the sincerity of his invitation. It would have been embarrassing to refuse.
The food was warm, but warmer still was the care shown to me by Sir Randy and his girlfriend, Nikki, who was from China. I was about to take my first bite when Sir Randy offered a prayer of thanksgiving. My respect for him deepened at that moment. At my first bite, tears welled up in my eyes — moved by their kindness and by how God answers prayers. When the couple looked at me, I casually said I must be catching a cold — that was why my eyes were watery. I do not know if they believed me.
After dinner, Sir Randy walked me back to my unit, carrying some cooked food. I said, “This is more than enough, bro!” He smiled and explained they were leaving for Daejeon and just wanted to make sure I had food until the next day. He then returned to his unit and brought me a pot, a pan, a kettle, and some coffee sticks. I did not know what to say. I wanted to hug him for all the help he was giving.
His kindness did not end there. When he learned I could not use my SIM card, he lent me one of his smartphones and his iPod before they left, and he kept his Wi-Fi open so I could use the internet. Our units were only meters apart, so I could access his connection from my room.
I had no words left. “Thank you” felt worn out from repetition. I wanted to hug him, but he was in a hurry to leave. After he stepped out of my unit, I simply closed my eyes and silently thanked Him. I am not a good person. I am weak and sinful. It is simply that the Lord is gracious and loving to those who call on Him.
I am truly fortunate that on my very first day in South Korea, I met friends like Randy and Nikki. They are more than friends — they are siblings from different wombs. They are the reason my first day in South Korea is so special.
Randy and Nikki are living testimonies of God’s goodness.
“Please Teach Me English!” (1)
(First of Three Parts)
“I don’t speak English well… please teach me.” One or two of my Korean students would tell me this (or a similar statement) in broken English at the end of our first meeting or any class as the semester progressed. Their voice and how they said it straddled between surrender and supplication. I cannot recall a semester where I did not hear something similar to that sentence. It reminds me of the first Korean movie I watched, “Please Teach Me English,” a romantic comedy film. It was recommended by the instructor who supervised the Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) short course that I took when I decided to include teaching English overseas as one of my career options. Each enrollee in that program was given a VCD copy of the movie. Well, I watched the film not because of TESOL-related intentions but because of the increasing popularity of K-Drama and K-Pop, with which I got hooked. Little did I know that watching that movie would later influence my career path.
There is no shame in admitting that I am one of the millions who became obsessed with Korean cultural content. In short, I got drowned by the Korean Wave (Hallyu) that reached the shores of the Philippines at the turn of the 21st century. Like many of my compatriots (and people from other parts of the world), I became enamored with K-pop and K-drama. Therefore, even if our TESOL supervisor did not mention that the movie provides plenty of tips for foreign English teachers, I would watch the movie. I even revisited the film before completing the program. However, the movie only came back to my mind during my first semester of teaching here in South Korea when my students started approaching me and saying sentences similar to the movie’s title. It prompted me to vividly recall the scenes between the English teacher and her students and made me rewatch the film.
Since then, when students confide in me about their difficulties in learning English, I am reminded of the main characters, Young-ju and Jang-hyuk, in the movie. These characters embody the excitement and struggles many Koreans face while learning English. One scene that particularly stands out is when Young-ju is seen eating pages from a dictionary in hopes of improving her vocabulary. This desperation is a testament to the lengths that some Koreans will go to master the English language.
The English teacher in the story is named Catherine, a native speaker of English from Australia. After watching the movie again, her interactions with students came to mind when I held my classes. Catherine tried to speak Korean to communicate better with her students, which is something I struggle with.
The movie provides insight into the English education system in South Korea. It sheds light on how Koreans perceive English learning and interact with English-speaking foreigners. The film also reveals the differing opinions on the necessity of learning the language. Despite being released in 2003, it still accurately portrays the current realities of English education in South Korea and their belief that English is essential for upward social and economic mobility. It also gave me a deeper understanding of life in Korea and the Korean psyche. The movie succeeded in reconfiguring my “Korean Dream.”
My “Korean Dream”
The constant influx of Korean content in my country’s print and broadcast media sparked a deep interest in the history and culture of South Korea within me. In addition to watching K-dramas on TV, I actively sought out Korean-related materials on the internet and read encyclopedia entries about the country south of the 38th parallel line. Gradually, I found myself becoming more and more immersed in Korean culture. Instead of using traditional greetings like “hello” and “thank you,” I began using “annyeonghaseyo” and “gamsahamnida.” When expressing deep affection, I started saying “saranghaeyo” instead of “I love you.” I even began singing Korean songs and desired to try their food, particularly the legendary Kimchi. Over time, my interest in everything related to Korea grew.
The cultural influences of South Korea on my homeland have ignited a strong desire within me to visit the country and explore the locations featured in TV shows and movies. I have always wanted to come here to fulfill that desire. I had many plans for my trip, such as riding the subway system in Seoul, strolling through Myeongdong at night and trying street food, spending my summer vacation on the beautiful island of Jeju, tasting soju and maekju, and trying the unique combination of the two, known as somaek. I also looked forward to savoring Korean dishes prepared by local chefs, wearing traditional hanbok outfits, and immersing myself in the culture by interacting with native Korean people. This is how my dream of experiencing Korea began and has become deeply rooted in my mind.
After watching the movie “Please Teach Me English,” I dreamt of teaching English in South Korea. Initially, I wanted to teach English at a university in the Middle East, but then I started thinking, why not teach in the country I have been fascinated with for so long? My dream of visiting South Korea as a tourist turned into a desire to live and work here.
When I was training for TESOL, I was then experiencing severe burnout from years of work as a school administrator. It did not help that I was confronted by personal demons at the same time. That personal circumstance required that I make not only a change in my career but also in my environment. That’s when I decided to apply for a position as an English teacher here in South Korea. This country is a popular destination for English teachers due to the attractive salaries and excellent benefits. However, there is intense competition among native English speakers for teaching positions in schools and hagwons (private academies). Non-native English speakers encounter even more tremendous obstacles in securing these positions, and their prospects of landing a teaching role in the language department of a South Korean university are slim. It’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. If you’re not a citizen of a country that belongs to the inner circle of the concentric circles model of the English language, it’s nearly impossible to get hired.
I couldn’t believe it when, for the first time, I read in an advertisement for ESL/EFL teachers the lines “Only native speakers of English may apply!”. I thought it was a prank. But it wasn’t. Why native speakers of English are accorded that preference or almost an exclusive right to teach Korean students is unfathomable. Fortunate and privileged are the “Catherines” of the world.
Blessed “Catherines”
When I began searching for teaching positions abroad, I noticed numerous job openings for English teachers in South Korea. However, I was disappointed to find very few opportunities for non-native English speakers like myself, while there were many for native speakers like the character named Catherine in the movie. I couldn’t help but grudgingly think that being a “Catherine” in this world is a privilege. I was surprised to learn that many universities in Asian countries such as South Korea, China, Japan, Vietnam, and the Middle East only preferred to hire native English speakers to teach the language. I realized this policy existed when I started looking for teaching positions abroad. I never thought that native-speakerism was a real thing. In a world as diverse as ours, it seems unfair that only native English speakers can teach the language.
Is the “only native speakers of English may apply” policy fair, just, and acceptable? If I get to respond to the question, the answer is already apparent. So, I decided to seek the opinion not of a non-native English speaker or a native speaker of the language but of a neutral entity – ChatGPT.
ChatGPT explains that “being a native speaker does not necessarily equate to being a skilled language teacher. Teaching requires specific training and expertise in pedagogy and language instruction, which native speakers may not possess. Additionally, non-native speakers who have learned English as a second language often have firsthand experience with the challenges that learners face, making them empathetic and effective teachers.” It added that “the effectiveness of language teaching depends on various factors, including the qualifications, experience, and teaching approach of the instructor, rather than solely on their native speaker status. Therefore, a more inclusive approach that values expertise and diversity in language education may be a wiser policy in promoting effective language learning for all students.”
I have worked with English teachers from specific countries over the years and observed their personalities and levels of professionalism. Additionally, as a member of the hiring team at the university where I currently teach, I have gained insight into job applicants’ educational qualifications and training. As shown in their CVs, some who tried to apply for a teaching position in our university are legitimate and qualified ESL/EFL teachers, but some were hired mainly because of their country of origin. They have been teaching in South Korea for a long time but are not English majors and have not graduated from courses aligned with education and language teaching. If only I could take the liberty to spill (all of) the beans.
It’s puzzling why most universities in South Korea and other Asian countries prefer to hire only native English speakers to teach the language. This practice is a form of discrimination, and, ironically, Asians themselves deny their fellow Asians equal job opportunities. However, I didn’t give up my dream of living and working as an English teacher in South Korea. Some universities here understand that accent and country of origin should not be the criteria for hiring ESL/EFL teachers. I hoped that some universities would prioritize qualifications, training, language proficiency, and pedagogical skills over accent and country of origin when hiring English teachers.
I was right! Although few and far between, some universities in South Korea do not discriminate against non-native English speakers. I sent an application to all of them. After a challenging application process, a university offered me a teaching contract, even though I am not a “Catherine.” My dream of living and working in this country became a reality. I have been plying my trade here as an English teacher for over ten years.
If there is something else significant that the movie “Please Teach Me English” taught me, it is understanding more about the Young-jus and Jang-hyuks and how to deal with them.
My Continuing Journey In South Korea
When I quit my job as a school administrator in Bulacan to pursue ESL teaching in South Korea, my loved ones and friends strongly advised me to reconsider. They reminded me that I already had a solid career in the academe in the Philippines, and the pay was decent. But as Jake Sully says in the movie Avatar, “Sometimes your whole life boils down to one insane move.”
So, in 2013, I flew to South Korea. But it wasn’t an insane move, rather a calculated risk. I have no regrets, as coming here was one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life. Working here has been an enormous blessing. This country is a beautiful place to live. When I arrived, I could confirm the impressions created by the Korean dramas and movies I had watched. Indeed, South Korea is progressive and beautiful, and its citizens are competitive, hard-working, and health-conscious.
Beyond providing financial stability for me and my family, my time in South Korea has fostered tremendous personal and professional growth. The working conditions at the university where I am currently employed are excellent. At first, I could hardly believe that I only needed to work less than 20 hours over four days. We must work only seven months but are paid for the entire year. This arrangement has given me ample time to connect virtually with my family and pursue my other passion—writing. Additionally, our university offers performance points and cash incentives for research projects, further enhancing my love for writing.
I mainly teach English subjects. There have been semesters when I was asked to teach at the graduate school and serve as an adviser to graduate students working on their dissertations. When I’m not engaged in academic work, I dedicate time to writing stories, poems, plays, and scholarly studies, many of which are published on my personal website. Several of my research studies have been presented at international conferences and published in internationally indexed journals. I have genuinely found fulfillment as a writer in this country.
I can’t imagine having any other “job cum hobby” besides teaching and writing. You may ask why. As Seth Godin said, “Do what you love and love what you do.” What I do and love is teaching, and what I love and do is writing. I use the expression “job cum hobby” because, when I engage in these activities, I don’t feel like I’m working; it feels more like pursuing hobbies.
My greatest challenge as a teacher is overcoming the cultural barrier between myself and my Korean students. I address this by building a good rapport with them and diligently fulfilling my responsibilities. Being a Filipino in ESL/EFL teaching places me and my fellow countrymen at a disadvantage. There is a common misconception that only native English speakers can teach the language, and even some of our Korean students believe this. It is something that Filipino English teachers like me must work to dispel. If I were to identify my most significant contribution as a Filipino in my profession, it would be demonstrating to the academic community in South Korea that one doesn’t need to be a native English speaker to be an effective ESL/EFL teacher.
I can’t think of anything negative about my current job; I have nothing but gratitude. I enjoy a harmonious relationship with my coworkers, both Korean and foreign. Although I occasionally clash with fellow foreigners over policy matters and work attitudes, we adhere to the principle of disagreeing without being disagreeable, which helps us maintain mutual respect.
My best advice for my fellow Filipinos working in South Korea is to work hard and respect everyone. Hard work leads to success as expat workers, while respect for others, regardless of citizenship, helps them stay out of trouble. It’s also important to abide by the laws of our host country.
Reflecting on my 12 years here, I see that what began as a leap into the unknown has become the most fulfilling chapter of my life. Teaching and writing—my two greatest passions—have flourished in this country. Embracing new challenges reminds me why I took that “calculated risk” in 2013. South Korea has provided me with opportunities to improve my overall well-being and has reaffirmed my belief that staying true to what you love leads to rewarding outcomes.
South Korea: Celebrating My 10th Year
On to my 10th year here in South Korea. This country has been a huge… huge blessing to me, personally and professionally.
Thank you Lord. To You be the glory!
This video shows a few glimpses of my 10 years in this country.
Examining National Character and Development in Selected Southeast Asian Countries and South Korea
ABSTRACT
This essay investigated the relationship between the development of a nation and the characteristics of its people. In this investigation, the construct used to embody the characteristics of the people living in a particular country is national character and the development of a nation is viewed here using the socio-economic and political lenses. The countries chosen upon which this investigation was anchored were South Korea and three Southeast Asian (SEA) nations, namely, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Vietnam.
In examining the national character of the aforementioned countries, Hofstede’s measures of cultural values (Hofstede’s 6-D model) were used. In measuring the development level these countries have reached, their scores and corresponding ranks in the Human Development Index (HDI) were compared. The descriptive-comparative structure was used in the discussion.
The investigation sought answers to the following questions: 1) How may the national character of the selected SEA countries and South Korea be described in terms of Hofstede’s measures of cultural values?; 2)What is the current status of development in these countries as indicated in their latest HDI rank?; 3) What inferences could be made as to how national development in these countries is associated with their national character as described using Hofstede’s measures of cultural values?; and 4) What can SEA countries learn from South Korean models in terms of national character and socio-economic and political development?
Hofstede’s 6-D model show that the South Koreans are the least hierarchical, most collectivist, the most feminine, the most uncomfortable with uncertainty, the most long-termed oriented, and the most restrained among the group of people whose national culture and human development were analyzed. The Malaysians are the most hierarchical and indulgent while the Filipinos are the most individualistic. Only the Philippines has a masculine society, and its citizens are the most short-term oriented. Of the three Southeast Asian nations, Vietnam is the most long-term oriented.
The cultural dimensions that are considered significantly correlated with wealth are power distance, individualism-collectivism, and long-term orientation. The less hierarchical, more collectivist, and more long-term oriented a country is, the wealthier and developed it could become. The South Koreans are the least hierarchical, the most collectivistic, and the most long-termed oriented. Of the four countries chosen for this analysis, South Korea is ranked the highest in the Human Development Index. Among the three Southeast Asian countries, Malaysia has the best score in the Human Development Index.
This investigation concluded that the development of a nation could be affected by the characteristics of its people. The South Koreans have certain characteristics, as shown in their scores in Hofstede’s 6-D model, that helped them consistently ranked high in the Human Development Index. People in Malaysia, the Philippines, Vietnam, and other Southeast Asian nations may perhaps consider embracing, not only the music, movies, TV dramas, food, and fashion of the South Koreans but also their cultural and behavioral orientations that are considered positive and applicable to them. In particular, the leaders of the said countries should consider looking at South Korean models when formulating their policies in the fields of education, research and development but at the same time also study how they could avoid the social problems besetting South Korea.
Keywords: National Character, National Development, Culture, Hofstede’s Cultural Dimension Theory, Human Development Index
South Korea: In the Eyes of an Expatriate (3)
(Last of 3 parts)
I really tried hard to figure out what happened. What went wrong for my country and conversely, what did the South Koreans do correctly? To think that in the 1950s, while my country was soaking in the glory of being Asia’s second strongest economy, the Korean peninsula plunged into a devastating war.
I tried to probe deeper into this nation’s history to find the answer to the following questions: 1. How were the South Koreans able to slay the ghosts of a bitter colonial past?; 2. How did they survive the devastation wrought by the Korean war?; and 3. How did they triumph over internal political turmoil while at the same trying to ward off a belligerent neighbor in North Korea?
How were the South Koreans able to accomplish all of the aforementioned then eventually catapult themselves to their current lofty position in the global community?
Then I found out what the South Koreans did in 1998 at the height of the Asian financial crisis. They willingly donated their gold – jewelry (including their personal wedding rings), medals and trophies, good luck keys, and what have you. This they did to save their economy during that crisis. The collective weight of the gold they donated may not be that much. But more significant than the corresponding monetary value of their donation was the willingness of the South Koreans to make a personal sacrifice for their country. I call that nationalism. If it’s not then I don’t know what is. It is the same sense of nationalism that emboldened them to resist one military junta after another… to sacrifice their lives and limbs to lay the democratic foundations of this country which eventually became a fertile ground that nurtured the economic prosperity they are currently enjoying.
I also learned about the collectivist culture of these people. They think first of the general welfare over and above their personal interests. This I witnessed first-hand when I saw how the South Koreans willingly obeyed the restrictions set by their government during the early onslaught of Covid-19. There was no need for their leaders to implement a “hard lockdown,” the way other countries did, including mine. The citizens just strictly wore their masks, observe social distancing, and avoided leaving their homes unless it was necessary. They are willing to sacrifice for the greater good.
I think I found the answer to what enabled the South Koreans to attain prosperity and stability – the combination of their nationalism and collectivist culture. I may be wrong but I could not really see any other possible reasons for their success as a nation. There is nothing more potent of a mix for nation-building than the combination of the two. And if they keep using this formula, the future of this nation is secured.
Other expatriates living in this country may not see things here the way I am seeing them. To them the observations I made may not be a big deal. To me, given the situation in my country now, they are.
If only my countrymen would consider including the South Korean model of nationalism and collectivism among the things from this country that we allow ourselves to be influenced by. We should try to find out if we could also propel our own native land to greatness if we would try to emulate the way South Koreans profess their love for their country. We need to see if we could also make our country better if like them we would put the greater good over and above our personal interests.
We copied hook line and sinker (Or was it forced down our throats?) the socio-political and economic models of our colonizers and we are not getting desirable results. Obviously, our needle of success as a nation is barely moving. We have been trying to fit our colonizers’ square peg into our round hole. It’s not working. It’s time for us to rethink our strategies for nation building. Why don’t we try the South Korean model? Let’s see what will happen if we embrace, not only K-dramas, K-pop, and kimchi but also the values that brought the South Koreans to where they are now.
South Korea: In the Eyes of an Expatriate (2)
(2nd of 3 parts)
I started mingling with real Korean people – real men and women and not fictional characters. I dined with them, drank their wine and beer, ate their kimchi and their delicious dishes, and spoke (a little) of their language.
I witnessed their way of life and even adopted some parts of it. I saw what’s inside their houses, their theatres, their bars, restaurants, and coffee shops. I have entered their museums, strolled in their parks, and hiked in their mountains.
Through daily encounters with my Korean students, colleagues, and friends, I was also able to probe into their character. I confirmed that just like what I saw in their dramas, South Koreans fall in love, get angry, feel sad and happy, and suffer from anxiety and stress. In short, just like me or any average human being from any part of the world, they also ride the roller coaster of emotions. They do have strengths and weaknesses too. They are not faultless… like me. Anyway, nobody is. They also have fears and uncertainties. But just like me and anyone else, they have dreams and ambitions. They have plans and a vision of a good life in the future for themselves and their families.
I discovered more. I found out that their prosperity is not a myth. Those things I saw in Korean dramas and movies that indicate how progressive and modernized their country is are not fictitious. Their provinces, cities, and towns are effectively interconnected by impressive highway systems that how I wish we could also have in my country of origin. How I wish that our telecom companies could provide us with internet connectivity as fast as South Korea’s.
With everything that I have seen and experienced, I could not help but compare this country to mine. I could not help but be envious of the South Koreans for what they have accomplished as a nation. As I stayed here longer, my “How I wish!” list grew longer. How I wish that in my country, packages could be left in front of our doors, even for days, not fearing that somebody would steal them. How I wish we could also send to prison our politicians who would be found guilty of wrongdoings without fearing that when a political ally would become the next president they would be granted a pardon. How I wish we would take research as seriously and meticulously as the Koreans do.
Whatever metrics I used for the comparison, it was a mismatch with this country always ending up on top after all the comparative analyses I performed except for this – my country has a younger population where the median age is less than 26 years. For this country, it’s more than 40 years. I will no longer be citing other statistics like those of life expectancy, GDP, and international ranking of universities. South Korea’s numbers are far more superior to my country’s.
In addition, South Korean students perform better in Math and Science as compared to the youth of my country. If there is any consolation though, I and my countrymen scored higher in English proficiency.
But does it matter if we in our country are better at English? Does it make my country better than South Korea? The answer is obvious – NO. There is no direct correlation between a country’s English proficiency and its economic performance. If there is, then why does this country, as of 2021, rank as the world’s 10th biggest economy while mine barely made it to the list of newly-industrialized countries?
Don’t get me wrong, I am not putting my country down while I am seemingly extolling South Korea. I love the country where I was born and I am proud to be its citizen. I am just wondering how come this country has gone this far leaving my native land way behind in the race to prosperity and stability.
My desire to figure that out led me to read more about the history of this country. In the process, I discovered certain uncanny similarities between our historical experiences. Both South Korea and my native land are colonized nations and earned independence after the second world war. Both countries embraced the democratic form of government thereafter. Additionally, just like in my country, the development of democracy here in South Korea was interrupted by military takeovers, and what a coincidence that martial law in our countries was declared both in 1972. Was it also a coincidence that powerful military leaders in both countries were removed via popular revolt in the mid 1980s?
Unfortunately, the similarities in the historical development of this nation and mine stop there. We took different paths in building our nations from the ashes of colonization, the second world war, and military juntas.
M.A.D. LIGAYA
M.A.D. L I G A Y A 