As an introduction, I promised to tell you about my journey and my connection to Korea.
I have so many things and anecdotes to share…
It all started during the lockdown in March 2020, implemented to curb Covid-19.
Like many of us, I was working remotely full-time, with only two options for relaxation: walks in the park and television.
Subscribed to a streaming site that shall remain unnamed, I had already watched all the British and Nordic series available. Not being a fan of American cinema, I reached the point where I had seen all the shows saved in My List.
Sensing my boredom, the algorithm took it upon itself to suggest a Korean drama.
Full of preconceived notions, I immediately associated it with Bollywood productions and dismissed the recommendation.
But after a week of persistent daily emails from the same unmentionable site, I finally gave in and started watching the suggested series: Crash Landing on You.
First impressions: a mix of humor, romance, power struggles between chaebol heirs, and a hint of North-South Korean political tension. Goodbye, prejudices! A single season of 16 episodes—nothing too intimidating.
I had a great time and laughed a lot.
Conclusion: I was hooked. The story, of course, but also the sharp sense of fashion in Korean society, the actors’ talent… The language, not so much. My ear, lazy and accustomed to English—sometimes even daring to explore Swedish—couldn’t find any familiar auditory cues in Korean.
And yet, once that drama ended, instead of feeling discouraged, I dived into Something in the Rain.
Confirmation: I love Korean dramas, and I thoroughly enjoy listening to the language. (My first word: 알았어—"I know, I got it.")
One drama led to another, and soon, I stumbled upon the outstanding Mr. Sunshine, a series depicting Korea’s history in the early 1900s.
From mere discovery, I moved on to growing curiosity—I wanted to know everything. The history, the conflict between the two Koreas, the alphabet (I was fascinated by how multiple letters combined to form syllables), the beauty secrets of Koreans, the cuisine… everything.
There was an abundance of websites, blogs, articles, and travel tips—everything fueled my increasing interest.
My knowledge of the Land of the Morning Freshness (Joseon) had been limited to a distant economics course mentioning the rise of the Four Asian Tigers—South Korea, Taiwan, Singapore, and Hong Kong. And well, it all made sense now.
If my professor hadn't used the term hallyu at the time, I suppose that’s exactly what he was referring to.
I discovered a country that, in just 30 years, transitioned from a third-world dictatorship in the 1980s to a technological powerhouse. And a little later, a leader in pop culture, cinema, and cosmetics.
The idea of visiting Korea then became a certainty. A certainty that had to wait until travel restrictions were lifted to take shape.
At the beginning of 2023, in a joking tone, my sister suggested that we go on this trip together. I took less time to decide than I had taken to press play on my remote control three years earlier.
Planning and organization were swift—yes, Korea lives in the year 3000, where everything is practical and well-structured. All that was left to do was go, as we say around here.
가자! ("Let’s go!")
