Exploring cafés here has quickly become somewhat of a hobby of mine, with each one uniquely decorated in its own elaborate theme. Some cafés are cozy with vintage interiors, while others are more industrial and modern. Some have games or books, while others cater to students looking for a quiet place to study. Beyond the aesthetics though, cafés have been popular hangouts for us KISLP students to practice our Korean skills, whether ordering drinks or chatting with host families and language exchange partners.
One fun discovery I had when visiting a café was with a language exchange partner. He assumed that as an American, I would surely order an iced americano, the most popular beverage among the locals. Speaking from my experience as a barista, I shared that Americans actually tend to prefer espresso beverages with milk in them, like lattes and cappuccinos, and that on the contrary, the customers who ordered americanos were usually Korean. This news was a big shock to my language exchange partner, and it led us down a rabbit hole of searching the history of americanos.
As it turns out, the drink was created amongst American soldiers stationed in Italy during World War II as an alternative for drip coffee, by whom it was then also brought to the Korean peninsula. Gaining access to milk and sugar again after the war, Americans shifted away from the americano, but the drink’s refreshing bitterness quickly grew amongst the Korean palette, and its legacy remains strong today. My language partner even taught me a popular slang saying in Korean, truly capturing the drink’s popularity: 얼죽아 (eoljoogah), which roughly translates to, “Iced americano, even if I freeze to death.” While I still prefer my coffee with at least a splash of milk, perhaps americanos will also grow on me during the rest of my time here.
Another recent discovery of mine regarding Korean culture was when my class visited a mom-and-pop run café in a quiet corner of downtown Cheongju to do our homework. It was decorated cozily with teddy bears and ambient lighting, surrounded by a garden in which the owners grew their own tomatoes and herbs. As we ordered drinks and desserts, the owner greeted us with a warm smile, complimented our Korean skills, and asked what brought us to Cheongju. Just as we began to do our work, we were met with a freshly made chocolate croffle, or croissant waffle, to try on the house as a welcome to Korea and a thank you for our business. It was truly unexpected, and a sense of warmth and gratitude encompassed us all as we enthusiastically thanked the café owner.
When recounting the encounter with our Korean professor the next day, we were told that it was a demonstration of 정 (jeong), which does not have a direct translation in English, but it is a sense of hospitality, generosity, and collective kindness deeply ingrained within Korean society. Since then, I have noticed other small instances of jeong in my everyday interactions here, like when encountering the elderly or sharing a meal.
Offering much more than just a cup of coffee, Korean cafés have been the backdrop for many realizations in my trip thus far, serving as a space to learn, laugh, and grow.
Ria Wright
Judith Ehm Fellowship Recipient
Korean Intensive Summer and Semester Language Program
Chungbuk National University (CBNU)
Cheongju, South Korea, Summer 2025