Hello Hanguk

  I still remember my first spring in Korea—waking up to what looked like a yellow fog covering Seoul's skyline. My Korean colleague immediately handed me a mask and said, "You'll need this every spring." That was my introduction to hwangsa, or yellow dust season. What surprised me most wasn't just the visible haze, but discovering there's actually a second, invisible threat called fine dust that shows up year-round. The apartment windows stayed closed on certain days, air purifiers ran constantly, and people checked their phones before heading outside—not for weather, but for air quality numbers. It took a few months to understand this wasn't paranoia; it was just part of managing everyday life here. Table of Contents What makes yellow dust and fine dust different Why Korea gets hit harder during spring Which mask actually works (and which doesn't) Air purifier basics without the marketing hype Real-time apps tha...

  Last July, I walked into my apartment after a weekend trip and was hit by what felt like an actual wall of heat. The sun had been beating directly onto my south-facing windows for three days straight, and the indoor temperature gauge read 34°C. My first instinct was to crank the AC to its coldest setting, but then I glanced at last month's electricity bill—over ₩180,000—and reconsidered. That moment made me realize I needed a better strategy than just "turn everything on and hope for the best." Heat waves in Korea have been getting longer and more intense, especially in cities where concrete and asphalt trap heat overnight. With progressive electricity pricing (where your rate jumps dramatically once you pass certain usage thresholds), keeping cool without breaking the bank requires some actual planning. What surprised me most, though, was how much difference small changes made—things that had nothing to do with running the AC 24/7. Table of Contents ...

A couple of months back, I was helping a friend figure out when to visit Seoul, and we kept running into the same problem: some weeks looked perfect on paper until we realized half the country would be traveling at the exact same time. She'd picked early May without knowing it was smack in the middle of what locals sometimes call "golden week"—a stretch when multiple holidays bunch together, turning a normal trip into a logistical puzzle. That experience reminded me how much Korea's holiday calendar matters if you're planning travel here, whether you're visiting or living locally. The rhythm of public holidays shapes everything from hotel prices to highway traffic, and understanding "bridge days"—those strategic extra days off that create longer breaks—can mean the difference between a relaxed trip and fighting crowds everywhere you go. What surprised me most was how Korea's substitute holiday system works differently than what I...

I moved to Seoul last year to work remotely for a U.S.-based tech company, and one of the first things I researched—probably obsessively—was whether Korea's infrastructure could actually support the kind of always-on work life I was used to. My previous setup in the States had its share of hiccups: occasional router resets, neighborhood outages during storms, and that one time my VPN decided to quit mid-presentation. What surprised me most wasn't just how fast the internet is here (though yes, it's ridiculously fast), but how differently Koreans approach connectivity, backup plans, and even the little things like where you plug in during a typhoon. If you're planning to work remotely from Korea—or you're already here and wondering why your neighbor has three routers—this is what I've learned about staying online, using VPNs without paranoia, and what to do when the power actually does go out. Table of Contents The Internet Speed Reality: Is ...