“What’s a nice Jewish girl from New York doing in a place where she can’t find a nice Jewish boy?” What was I doing there? I asked myself this numerous times throughout my six months studying abroad, especially after I realized I could no longer just pick up a burger from the local Glatt Kosher restaurants. Now that I’ve returned and can eat all of the food I desire, I want to go back to a world with no kosher food stores, only one (non-army) synagogue, and people who have never even met a Jew before.

In many ways, Seoul, South Korea is much more advanced than New York City. The subways run on time (with numerous phone applications that will help you pick the fastest route); you don’t have to swipe your Metro Card, and there’s always service and data. Every street corner has multiple-story, 24-hour coffee shops, and the residents of Seoul are much more fashionable than New Yorkers.

But, at the same time, Seoul is much more attached to its past than New York is. While there are some skyscrapers, the heart of Seoul is four palaces and various temples. In fact, the only reason I know where the American Embassy in Seoul is located was because it is right next to the magnificent palace, Gyeongbokgung. Most of Seoul’s landmarks were rebuilt after the Korean War, but they aren’t lacking in authenticity; it’s hard to remember that you’re in the middle of a city with over 10 million residents when you’re looking at the throne of Korea’s last kings.

Seoul is home to more than just palaces; it’s also home to some of the best shopping, ranging from high end shopping districts like Apgujeong and Gangnam (like the song,) to Dongdaemun market where you can haggle over prices, to the area near Ehwa Woman’s University, where up- and-coming fashion students try to sell their goods to small boutiques. Haggling is a must in most Korean stores, but be warned: if you’re light hair and light eyes, they’ll probably hike up the prices thinking that you’re a tourist. Seasoned Seoul-ite that I became in my six months there, I was able to gauge that most T-shirts sold on the street could be bought with 10,000 Won (a little less than $10) if I just handed the shopkeeper the money.

Seoul’s not all about shopping, but since I wasn’t able to eat, well, anything, most of my experiences didn’t include food memories. However, I did sit with my friends while they grilled pork bellies (samgyeopsal) or made hot pot (shabu shabu) on the table in front of them, and while they ate pounds upon pounds of kimchi, Korea’s national side-dish. For snacks during the day, while I bought Jelly Bellys or Haagen Daaz from the convenience store, my friends would get kimbap, Korea’s version of sushi, which almost always included picked yellow radish, kimchi and ham.

At night, there were hundreds upon hundreds of things for college students to do. Our neighborhood, Sinchon, was the host of the prestigious Yonsei University, which I attended, and also Ewha Woman’s University, which meant that there were hundreds of bars, themed-cafés and noraebang (literally singing rooms). A few blocks away was Hongdae, which had a lot of clubs and fashionable shops, as well as street performance spaces. The most talented performers would reserve the right to play on Hongdae not only to make money from passersby, but because they knew if there was a scout from one of Korea’s top entertainment companies, their fortune could be made.

While most people know Psy and Gangnam Style, they don’t know that Korea is the host to one of the largest growing entertainment industries in the world. If you’re so inclined, you can attend hundreds of concerts with perfectly constructed performances by boy bands and girl groups. Or you can attend Broadyway-style musicals or dance performances (Korea is gaining much attention for having amazing b-boying teams.) There’s also the Co-Ex Mall and Aquarium and the National Museum with gorgeous traditional gold and porcelain objects from ancient kingdoms.

But my personal favorite was something I only discovered at the end of my stay, the jimjilbangs. These 24-hour saunas may seem frightening to Americans, but for roughly $12 you can stay 12 hours at a sauna and spa. People spend nights there, sleeping on the hard wood floor after they’ve enjoyed the health benefits of both hot and ice saunas (my personal favorite was the hot salt room.) You can go straight from a hard day at work to relax; every customer is given a change of clothes and an electronic bracelet, which can be used to pay for various things like food, massages or arcade games. After your time is up, there are showers and blow dryers with which to freshen up, and then you can go back to your life as normal. Even though I doubted that it’d be clean or safe, the Dragon Spa jimjilbang was one of the cleanest places I’ve ever been, and there were parents with their children there overnight, having a fun family outing right in Seoul.

And, of course, if you miss America, you can always head to Itaewon. The area sprung up around the U.S. army base, so there are always a lot of Americans and other foreigners in the area. There’s even a mosque and a Jewish Center run by Chabad. I spent just about every Shabbat there, or else I would have had to make a special trip in order to buy instant soups and Israeli snacks like Bamba and Bissli.

Just about every week I was asked the question that started this article: What was I doing there? But it didn’t matter. All of us Jews in Korea didn’t really seem to belong, but we made our own community there. There were Jews who have been there for over 20 years, the Chabad family who has been there for only a few and the U.S. soldiers and businessmen with their wives and young children (who attend a pre-school run by the rabbi’s wife). As for me, I wasn’t alone, there were a few other Jewish college students. There’s also the army chaplain, who had services and meals for people; I had difficulty ever going because Seoul has no eruv, so I wasn’t able to carry my passport on Sabbath in order to gain entrance to the base.

As odd as it sounds, I tried to avoid Itaewon; there was so much else in Korea to see, that if not for my Jewish-ness, I may have never gone to the area. Itaewon is like a sudden break in the country, because, unlike most of Korea, there was a lot more crime in the area with a lot of immigrants (Korea primarily has only Koreans living in most neighborhoods.) Drunks may be out at all hours due to lax drinking laws in Korea, but they’re usually harmless. I never once feared walking around with an open purse and even grew so comfortable that I would take my wallet out on the subway and look at its contents.

Coming back to New York, where I didn’t have to cook practically every meal for myself, was a shock. But, all the same, Seoul had much more of a unique feeling than New York does. Since my return, I realize that some things I thought made so much sense in Korea (like sleeping on the floor of a sauna) would be extremely odd here. But New York doesn’t have palaces, or national food like kimchi and kimbap; New York’s a melting pot, but Seoul has its own flavor.

By Tamar Herman