Eid is tomorrow. Korbani Eid, the second big Eid of the year. Back home in Bangladesh, this day means waking up to the sound of Takbir on loudspeakers, wearing new panjabi, hugging my father and brother after Eid jamaat, and helping with the qurbani meat. The house would be full of relatives, the smell of shemai, tehari, and beef curry filling every room. But here in South Korea, it's completely different.
Since I came to Korea in 2023, I’ve already missed five Eids. And tomorrow will be the sixth.
As an international student, Eid here doesn’t feel the same. It’s not a public holiday, no festive lights, no family gathering, no meat-sharing with neighbors. Just another regular day—with a little spiritual break in the morning.
Tomorrow, I’ll attend the Eid jamaat at 7:30 AM in Motgol, Busan Art College. After that? I go back to my small gosiwon room, maybe call my family back home, listen to their laughter, and try not to cry. Then, by 10:30 AM, I must go to my part-time job at the seafood restaurant. It’s the weekend, and weekends in Korea mean heavy customer rush—so extra work pressure.
I’m not alone in this. Many international students like me from Bangladesh, Nepal, Pakistan, and other countries are in the same situation. We wear clean clothes instead of new ones, offer Eid prayers together in a small rented hall, and then return to work. No goats, no cows, no qurbani meat to share. Just a simple meal alone or with a few friends. That’s our real Eid day in abroad.
Yes, it's hard. Especially when you're far from your family, your roots. You realize how much those small moments back home meant—cutting meat with your uncles, helping your mom in the kitchen, feeding biryani to your little cousins. I miss all of it.
But still, we keep going. We celebrate in our hearts, we smile in front of the camera during family video calls, and we say “Eid Mubarak” to our friends here like everything is okay. Because that’s what international students do—we stay strong.
Eid Mubarak to everyone, especially those celebrating away from home.
You’re not alone. We’re all in this together.
— Borhan, Busan, South Korea
Eid is tomorrow. Korbani Eid, the second big Eid of the year. Back home in Bangladesh, this day means waking up to the sound of Takbir on loudspeakers, wearing new panjabi, hugging my father and brother after Eid jamaat, and helping with the qurbani meat. The house would be full of relatives, the smell of shemai, tehari, and beef curry filling every room. But here in South Korea, it's completely different.
Since I came to Korea in 2023, I’ve already missed five Eids. And tomorrow will be the sixth.
As an international student, Eid here doesn’t feel the same. It’s not a public holiday, no festive lights, no family gathering, no meat-sharing with neighbors. Just another regular day—with a little spiritual break in the morning.
Tomorrow, I’ll attend the Eid jamaat at 7:30 AM in Motgol, Busan Art College. After that? I go back to my small gosiwon room, maybe call my family back home, listen to their laughter, and try not to cry. Then, by 10:30 AM, I must go to my part-time job at the seafood restaurant. It’s the weekend, and weekends in Korea mean heavy customer rush—so extra work pressure.
I’m not alone in this. Many international students like me from Bangladesh, Nepal, Pakistan, and other countries are in the same situation. We wear clean clothes instead of new ones, offer Eid prayers together in a small rented hall, and then return to work. No goats, no cows, no qurbani meat to share. Just a simple meal alone or with a few friends. That’s our real Eid day in abroad.
Yes, it's hard. Especially when you're far from your family, your roots. You realize how much those small moments back home meant—cutting meat with your uncles, helping your mom in the kitchen, feeding biryani to your little cousins. I miss all of it.
But still, we keep going. We celebrate in our hearts, we smile in front of the camera during family video calls, and we say “Eid Mubarak” to our friends here like everything is okay. Because that’s what international students do—we stay strong.
Eid Mubarak to everyone, especially those celebrating away from home.
You’re not alone. We’re all in this together.
— Borhan, Busan, South Korea