When it comes to work, I haven’t experienced much difficulty assimilating into the culture. I feel like I’ve adjusted fairly well, and the overall work environment hasn’t presented many direct cultural obstacles. That said, one thing I have noticed is that my expectations going in were a bit off—particularly around leadership style. Our CEO isn’t Korean, and although I knew that beforehand, I still assumed that the way work would be conducted would align more closely with Korean cultural norms, especially since the company is based here.

I imagined someone older, perhaps more traditional or strict—someone who would take on a mentor-like role and guide me both professionally and personally. I even expected those classic business lunches and dinners that people often talk about (my friends here included), where you get to know leadership on a deeper level—and maybe, if you’re lucky, enjoy a free meal in the process. But that wasn’t the case for me. I quickly realized that what I had envisioned isn’t necessarily the norm, nor should it be. My friends working at different companies in Korea seem to have had very different onboarding and workplace experiences, which helped me understand that there’s no single way things unfold here.

Although I wouldn’t say I struggle with it, I’ve definitely picked up on a more passive—or perhaps more introverted—vibe both in the workplace and in public life more generally. People tend to keep to themselves, maintain respectful silence in shared spaces, and avoid unnecessary small talk. In many ways, that creates a peaceful and efficient atmosphere. It stands in contrast to American culture, where being expressive, casual, and openly social—even with strangers—is much more common. That comparison really highlighted how unique American openness can seem from the outside.

Personally, I find the Korean approach more comfortable—maybe even refreshing. It suits me, especially since I’d describe myself as more introverted anyway. I enjoy the quiet moments and the sense of mutual respect that exists in these spaces. Still, it’s been an adjustment—especially when instinctively smiling at someone or striking up a spontaneous conversation results in polite disinterest rather than enthusiasm.

I’ve also noticed several everyday behavioral differences, particularly in terms of social etiquette. For instance, it surprised me that people don’t always cover their mouths when coughing or sneezing—especially considering the strong emphasis on hygiene in other areas. In public spaces, people tend to move quite assertively, whether it’s boarding the subway, walking through crowds, or navigating busy streets. There’s a lot less of the “after you” hesitation that I’m used to back in the States.

Things move fast here, and people seem to always be in a hurry. Even in bustling cities like New York, I don’t encounter quite the same level of pace and urgency as I’ve seen in Seoul. At first glance, this behavior might seem rude, but I’ve come to understand that it’s less about rudeness and more about efficiency. Seoul is an incredibly busy and dense city, and there’s a rhythm to how people move—one that’s brisk, efficient, and unapologetically direct. Adapting to that rhythm has helped me navigate the city more confidently.

Another subtle yet noticeable difference is in daily politeness rituals. In the U.S., it’s considered polite to hold the door open for someone, even if they’re a few steps behind. That doesn’t seem to be expected here—or at least, it happens less often. Again, it’s not a matter of people being unkind; it’s just a different set of cultural expectations. There seems to be an unspoken understanding that everyone’s focused on getting through their day, and that’s completely acceptable.

One of the more surprising adjustments for me has been the cost of fresh produce. Fruits and vegetables here are noticeably more expensive than what I’m used to back home. It caught me off guard to the point that I generally avoid buying them outright. Instead, I try to include them in my diet through meals I eat out or dishes where they’re already incorporated. It’s been one of the bigger adjustments in terms of budgeting and meal planning.

Another unexpected difference—one I’ve heard others mention as well—is how sweet many foods are. Items that are traditionally savory in other places—like pizza, Cheetos, bread (even garlic bread), and sauces—often have a distinctly sweet flavor here. It wasn’t something I anticipated, and while it doesn’t really bother me, it’s fascinating to see how flavor preferences vary so widely across cultures. That said, I do find myself occasionally craving more straightforward savory flavors.

All in all, these cultural differences haven’t made my experience difficult—if anything, they’ve made it more meaningful. Living and working in Seoul has taught me to pay attention to the small things: how we interact, how we show (or don’t show) politeness, how we eat, and how we share space. While I’m used to the extroversion and friendliness that’s common in the U.S., I’ve come to appreciate the calm, respectful rhythm of life here. It’s pushed me in subtle ways, invited reflection, and ultimately made me more adaptable and open-minded.