A Gyopo In Korea: Meeting My Housemate

I’m Dylan, a 3rd generation Korean-American, and I’ll be living in Seoul for three months. In that time, I hope to improve my near non-existent Korean skills and experience the culture that I’ve been removed from. In this series, I’ll be detailing those experiences. If you’re not caught up, you can catch the other chapters here.

I finally met my housemate, after a week and a half of us living together. Kind of. One Friday evening, I was practicing guitar with my room door open when she came home. When I heard the front door being unlocked, I froze. I realized she would have to walk past my open door to access her room. I didn’t know what to do. Do I get up, greet her as she comes in? No, that would be weird. Do I try and sneak across my room and close my door quietly? No, I don’t have enough ti—oh, she’s here.

She glanced my way for a split second and our eyes met. I couldn’t see her well because of the low light, but from what I could tell, it seemed like she had longer hair, clipped up in the back, with bangs falling over her eyes in the front, and she was tall, probably a couple of inches below me in height. There were no emotions to be read off her face in that moment. She was pretty. I quickly tried to stand and greet her, but within an instant she was inside her room with the door closed.

I didn’t think it was out of any sort of disdain that she seemed to barely regard my existence at that moment or that she’d avoided me for over a week. After all, I’ve basically been doing the same. And like I mentioned in my second entry, there were all the little things she’d been doing to make my life a little easier. She was probably just caught off guard, same as me.

Later that night, when I left my room with my towel and toiletry basket to wash up, I ran into her adjusting the thermometer as I turned the corner. I tried to say hi, but all I could do was give a small bow. She bowed back, and quickly made her way back into her room.

The next morning, I wrote a sticky note and left it on the kitchen table before I left. In Korean, I wrote:

“Hello! I’m Dylan, but my Korean name is Oh HyunMyung. Because I’m American, I can’t speak Korean well, but I hope we can become friends anyway. Please take good care of me!”

*I’ve had people laugh at me when I tell them I wrote “Please take good care of me.” I’m pretty sure that’s a common expression in Korean when introducing yourself to someone in this kind of situation, no?

When I came back in the afternoon, she was gone, but my pink sticky note was replaced by a yellow one and a small box of chocolate candy. I’ll be honest, a lot of the words on the note were difficult to make out. Not because any of it was way outside of my Korean skill level, but because I struggled to figure out what it was that was written—not to say the handwriting was bad, but I’m just not used to reading handwritten Hangul. After some deliberation, it read:

“Hello, I’m Han YeJin*! Nice to meet you. Thank you for introducing yourself first. This is some chocolate that my friend bought in Japan. It’s really tasty, so please give it a try! Take good care of me too. (Also, please feel free to play your guitar comfortably :D)”

*This is a fake name.

I have to say, that really wasn’t the kind of writing style I was expecting. I thought it would’ve been a little more stoic.

She was right, it was really tasty. I usually don’t go for white chocolate, but it was paired with a dark Oreo-like biscuit that turned it into the perfect cookies-and-cream balance for me.

The next morning, I went into the kitchen while she was preparing something on the counter. Her back was turned to me, so I didn’t exactly know how I should get her attention. I kind of just stood there like an idiot wondering what to do when she turned around to put something on the table.

“Ah, hello,” I said. “Thanks for giving me the chocolate. It was really tasty.” (*to denote spoken Korean, I’ll write it in italics inside quotation marks.)

I have to be honest, I really don’t know if she understood me. I spoke really quietly, and my accent was probably extra strong since my throat was tightening up. “Oh,” she said. “Yes.”

A little later, she knocked on my door while I was finishing up getting ready for the day. She spoke so quietly that I could only make out the first couple of words. “Ddalgi jom…”

Did she say strawberry? I thought. Then I saw that she was holding a plate of strawberries, all neatly upright, lined up in rows. I should’ve said, at the very least, “Oh, strawberries?” Instead, I just went, “Uh…”

She showed me her phone screen, where she wrote into a translator: “I’m sorry, I’m really bad at speaking English, but I prepared these strawberries and I wanted to ask if you’d eat them with me?”

“Oh! Yes. Thank you!” I said, and when she raised the plate, I was careful to receive it with both hands. I wondered if she wanted to eat with me in the kitchen, but once again, she was quick to retreat into her room, her own plate of strawberries in hand. Maybe it was a nuanced translation error, then.

Wait a minute. She had her phone in one hand and my strawberries in the other. I swear I saw her go directly through her doorway after leaving mine, so where did her plate come from? Whatever, I don’t even know why I’m thinking about this. I’m probably just not remembering it clearly.

Now, I know what this may seem like. She gave me chocolates and strawberries. It seems like she’s really eager to get to know me. According to my friends, she’s clearly interested in me. And you know what? As much as I’ve told them to shut up, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t becoming a little bit interested in her.

Regardless, I don’t think this was her showing me attraction. From what I know of Korean culture, I know that gift-giving is a part of it. She said she was grateful that I introduced myself first and broke the ice, so she just wanted to show that appreciation through the chocolate. And the strawberries were probably just a housewarming gesture, showing me kindness. I’ve had too many instances in high school where my showing kindness was misinterpreted for attraction to know that I should be careful to read into these kinds of things.

Since that weekend, things have carried on mostly as per usual in the house. We didn’t interact much. I thought we had broken the ice, but I’m still nervous to approach her. I told my mom I felt like returning the favor of the chocolates and strawberries in some way, but she told me no. “You don’t want to come on too strong, like you’re pursuing something or anything. Just let her be. It must be awkward for her to be living with a guy she doesn’t know. Just give her space.” And she’s right, but still, I feel like, if shown a certain kindness, I should try to repay it.