Last Tuesday was one of the most memorable days of my life in Korea—not just because it was a full day of midterm exams, but because of something far more touching that happened in the middle of it.
That morning, Busan greeted us with steady rain. In my rush to get to campus on time for the exam, I hurriedly left my gosiwon without taking an umbrella. The streets were wet, my shoes soaked, but my mind was only focused on the test ahead.
By 2:50 p.m., I was running to the building for my last exam. The rain hadn’t stopped, and I still didn’t have an umbrella. I tried to walk fast through the drizzle, knowing I’d arrive drenched. But then something unexpected happened.
Suddenly, I felt the soft tap of an umbrella over my head. I paused, confused, and looked back. A Korean woman stood behind me, gently holding her umbrella above me. talking with me like this-
Her: "Why didn’t you take an umbrella?"
Me: [a little shy and surprised] "I forgot... Thank you."
Her: "Which building are you going to?"
Me: "Building 17."
Her: "Do you know Korean language?"
Me: [smiling] "A little bit."
Her: "If you walk in the rain like this, you’ll get a fever and catch a cold."
Me: [softly] "Yeah... you're right."
I was touched by her thoughtfulness. When we reached the building, I thanked her deeply. She just nodded, smiled, and walked away into the rain.
In that short moment, I felt something powerful—a deep sense of kindness that crossed language and cultural barriers. That single act of care reminded me how considerate many Korean people are. Living in Korea as a foreigner is not always easy, especially with the language barrier and cultural differences. But moments like this make me feel that I’m not alone here.
It’s not just about sharing an umbrella—it’s about the human connection in a foreign land. That simple gesture spoke louder than words. It made me emotional, reminding me that kindness is a universal language.
That afternoon, I didn’t just make it to my exam—I walked away with a heart full of gratitude and a deeper understanding of the people I now live among.
Last Tuesday was one of the most memorable days of my life in Korea—not just because it was a full day of midterm exams, but because of something far more touching that happened in the middle of it.
That morning, Busan greeted us with steady rain. In my rush to get to campus on time for the exam, I hurriedly left my gosiwon without taking an umbrella. The streets were wet, my shoes soaked, but my mind was only focused on the test ahead.
By 2:50 p.m., I was running to the building for my last exam. The rain hadn’t stopped, and I still didn’t have an umbrella. I tried to walk fast through the drizzle, knowing I’d arrive drenched. But then something unexpected happened.
Suddenly, I felt the soft tap of an umbrella over my head. I paused, confused, and looked back. A Korean woman stood behind me, gently holding her umbrella above me. talking with me like this-
Her: "Why didn’t you take an umbrella?"
Me: [a little shy and surprised] "I forgot... Thank you."
Her: "Which building are you going to?"
Me: "Building 17."
Her: "Do you know Korean language?"
Me: [smiling] "A little bit."
Her: "If you walk in the rain like this, you’ll get a fever and catch a cold."
Me: [softly] "Yeah... you're right."
I was touched by her thoughtfulness. When we reached the building, I thanked her deeply. She just nodded, smiled, and walked away into the rain.
In that short moment, I felt something powerful—a deep sense of kindness that crossed language and cultural barriers. That single act of care reminded me how considerate many Korean people are. Living in Korea as a foreigner is not always easy, especially with the language barrier and cultural differences. But moments like this make me feel that I’m not alone here.
It’s not just about sharing an umbrella—it’s about the human connection in a foreign land. That simple gesture spoke louder than words. It made me emotional, reminding me that kindness is a universal language.
That afternoon, I didn’t just make it to my exam—I walked away with a heart full of gratitude and a deeper understanding of the people I now live among.