Unprecedented kindness of strangers
In my wallet sits a 500 won coin, a physical remembrance and the only evidence I have of that day.
I woke up early, left the dorm, and ambled down the hill by our back gate to find coffee. Upon failing to find an open café, I decided to have an early lunch instead. I ducked inside a humble restaurant with a white exterior and called out to the emptiness. A small, old lady emerged from the kitchen. I ordered a solo order of bulgogi with rice. Then I sat down in front of the TV and stared at the Korean news channel.
I couldn’t understand it, but it was fun to try.
Finally, the shop owner emerged and gave me my lunch. I politely returned the side dishes since I couldn’t eat spicy food, and she must have heard my accent more clearly then because she asked me where I was from. I explained that I was an exchange student from the Philippines, and she went back to the kitchen to serve more customers. I sat and watched TV, feeling thankful for where my life had brought me–a peaceful restaurant by the University of Seoul. I felt like one of those grandpas or grandmas who ate while watching TV, and I felt a quiet sense of contentment. After finishing my meal, I stood up to pay the exact price of 11,000 won, and the old lady gave me a 500-won coin in return. It was a discount.
Here I was, a small girl thousands of kilometers from home, standing in a small restaurant in Seoul on a cold wintry morning, and this old shop lady was giving me a discount. I, who had done nothing for anyone, was lucky enough to experience such a small but profoundly moving gesture of care. I thanked her profusely and went on my way.
I was reminded of the time I went to buy a sandwich in a shop near the Cheonggyecheon Stream. I was in Dongmyo, where it seemed like the entire elderly population of Dongdaemun congregated to buy and sell cheap clothes, shoes, cameras, and various knickknacks in the flea market. The shop owner was cooking the sandwiches outside, so she told me to wait inside. I was happy to be able to sit down in a warm place, wrapped in my puffer coat. Then an elderly lady with a face mask entered and started talking to me excitedly with her eyes shining. I couldn’t understand a single thing, so all I could do was smile back. Then the shop owner gave me my sandwich and asked me questions like where I was from and where I studied. I was quietly eating my sandwich when she asked me if I drank coffee. My Korean was good enough to understand that, at least. I said yes. “Service,” she explained, and made me a hot cup of coffee.
Here I was, living away from family for the very first time. And here was a random Korean lady who had just met me, who had nothing to gain from giving me a free cup of instant coffee, and yet treated me with the same warmth my own mother would. Perhaps this is what it means to be human, I thought. Our shared humanity is something not even different languages and nationalities could take away. Compassion, in its truest form, can transcend even borders. How amazing is that? And how lucky am I to be able to experience it?
In the spring, I went to watch the Red Bull Dance Your Style Seoul Qualifier as it was being held at our university. It started raining shortly before the show began. Umbrellas weren’t allowed, and I didn’t have a raincoat. I just put an extra voting card–a piece of cardboard, really–on my head in a futile attempt to stay dry amidst the downpour. Then someone in the crowd, standing behind me, placed his cap on my head. When I dropped my voting card and was trying–but failing–to get the attention of the staff to ask for another one, he gave me another voting card. At the end, I just gave him his cap back and he went on his way.
People say nothing in this world comes for free. But that’s not true. Kindness is free.
Whether it’s in the mundanity, the highs, or the lows, the moment you need it the most, the kindness of strangers will never fail you.
That’s why I will always remember my time studying in Seoul, South Korea, as the spring of my life. A time when the unexpected kindness of strangers moved my heart throughout the warmth of summer, the coziness of autumn, the cold of winter, and the beauty of cherry blossoms. A time when I had the privilege of crossing paths with people who had so much heart to give without asking for a single thing in return.
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Margarita Beatrice Uy Cabochan, 21, was an exchange student at the University of Seoul from September 2024 to June 2025.
