Concepts of Time and Friendship 

By Francesca Duong 

From the moment my plane landed at Incheon International Airport in snowy January, I knew the clock started ticking.  

As a native English teacher bound by her contract, I knew that one year was all that I was guaranteed. Whether or not I could renew for another year – whether or not I would remain in the city of Gwangju – was up in the air.  

It feels as if a timer is floating above my head, and I am helpless watching the numbers count down. Time has ticked by so fast; it is almost as if someone spammed the fast forward button on a remote. I have less than four months left of my contract, less than four months left of certainty. Any second, the play button will resume reality as I get yanked away from the life and community I worked so hard to build for myself. 

And that makes me terrified. 

This is a reality that many foreigners face. While I desire to stay another year, I know many of my English teacher friends will leave Korea after one year. Others I have met, like international students or career teachers, plan to be here much longer than I have so far. Each time we meet, I know our paths have crossed for this brief amount of time in Korea. Then, whether or not I am the initiator or the receiver of this break up, our journeys will split…. Probably forever. Knowing that these relationships are temporary makes me want to grip onto the sand until my hands bleed and it slips through my fingers.  

Sindi Dhlamini arrived a few months after me in May, and I met her within her first few days in Gwangju. Three months later, I reached out to Dhlamini to see how she views friendship and community building this early in her journey. While she has not really thought about the temporality of friendships, she said the experience of being abroad has given her new insight.  

“It’s almost like we’re dating each other, in this friendship that we’re building,” Dhlamini said. “We’re learning how to build friendships, and we have to try and meet people halfway. You realize that we’re so different, yet so similar at the same time.” 

To Dhlamini, it has been difficult to form genuine connections with people. While one of the beauties of the foreigner community is crossing paths with people one might not have otherwise, there are also instances where relationships feel as if they are formed simply because two people are foreign and looking for friends. When I asked Dhlamini if she ever feels lonely, she said there were times where she misses home.  

“I feel like I haven’t fully been able to be vulnerable with people yet,” Dhlamini said. “To some extent, loneliness really, really hits.” 

I have been fortunate to have found a community in a weekly language exchange in Gwangju. The organizer, Kim Hyun-woo, first launched the exchange early in the year, and it has seen a steady growth in participants. Kim has been a Gwangju resident his entire life, and he started these meetings to provide a safe space for people to share their culture and ways of thinking.  

To me, Kim feels like a fixed point in a community that is constantly morphing. As a Gwangju native, he will always remain. Kim told me one of the reasons he formed the language exchange was because he loves meeting new people and understanding things from their point of view. Yet, with these connections he is forming, more likely than not, these people will leave within a few years. Does it not hurt? 

“I will feel sad,” Kim told me. “But I have always known that this kind of relationship I will make – this community – will be really temporary… I have already prepared myself for it.” 

Like Kim, I know that goodbyes are inevitable. And I too have prepared myself for it.  

After living in Korea for a total of 13 years, Ronald Harford, co-founder of Loft 28, has become well versed in saying goodbye. With his experience as both an expatriate and a co-founder of a popular gathering spot for foreigners, Harford has seen multiple facets of the foreigner community. During our conversation, Harford acknowledged the feeling of sadness is definitely present every time he says goodbye to people, especially with those that he formed a close bond with. While he has slowly become accustomed to it, he told me it is “never easy.” 

Harford reflected on his past customers who, when returning to Korea on vacation, would visit Loft 28. Sometimes these returnees would bring new friends or family members, and to Harford, it holds great value that Loft 28 was able to become such a meaningful space for these people. Even though people are constantly cycling in and out of the community, Harford has made strong connections that still live on, even as distance separates them physically. 

“The friendship continues wherever we may go,” Harford told me. 

Especially for those who do not plan to be in Korea long-term, I think most of us are aware of the ticking time that passes us every day. Our existence in this space is temporary, and that is simply a fact that we live with. We know that one day we will leave this place we currently call “home” and oceans will come between us and the community we had built. It is sad. And it is lonely. 

However, because of that, my experience in Korea has placed greater emphasis on focusing on the now. Each moment, each memory, each friendship is so precious. I love meeting my friends for American-style brunch at Sabotage and sipping a milk tea float at a local cafe. I love going on spontaneous day-trips to nearby cities like Naju and Damyang, while hiding out in indoor establishments because the weather is too hot. There are so many memories that I am so grateful for, and so many more that I will make in my last few months.  

Even though I know that one day my time will end, the friendships and memories I made were real.  

And I will carry these experiences with me wherever I may go.  

The Author 

As a writer, Francesca Duong strongly believes in the power of narrative as a platform for truth and discussion. She loves lengthy conversations, being involved in the community, and discovering delicious foods.