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One step at a time: How Japanese student organizations are overcoming cultural barriers in Korea

Published: 12 Aug. 2025, 16:58 Updated: 12 Aug. 2025, 17:56

A banner shows a cultural exchange event between Korean and Japanese students hosted by the Japanese student association of Kyungpook National University in March. [KYUNGPOOK NATIONAL UNIVERSITY JAPANESE STUDENT ASSOCIATION]

On her first day at Kyungpook National University, Rina Sakai, a newly admitted international student from Japan, stood in front of a campus bulletin board, staring blankly at a string of official notices for new students. She had studied Korean for years, but the formal, bureaucratic language used by the university made her feel like she was starting from scratch again.

“People complimented my Korean all the time back in Japan,” she said, “but it felt completely different when I came here.”

A year later, she would become the president of the Kyungpook National University's Japanese Student Association, translating every important university announcement into Japanese. This is not because anyone asked her to, but because she knew what it felt like to need that kind of help at first.

Sakai’s story echoes across Korea, where Japanese students are quietly forming support networks on campuses that weren’t originally built with them in mind. Some newly created, others revived, these groups offer more than logistical help. They are becoming quiet, steady places for Japanese students to reorient themselves as they traverse between two cultures, reshaping how they see Korea and how they are seen in return.

For many Japanese students, their connection to Korea began long before they arrived.

Nanako Kubo, now the president of Sungkyunkwan University’s Japanese Student Association, first became interested in Korea through the K-pop girl group Twice. Suzu Ogata, now leading efforts at Hanyang University, came to Seoul for a six-month exchange and fell in love with the food and lifestyle. And for Chineke Nwabunwanne, now also at Hanyang University, it started in high school.

“A friend recommended some K-pop idols,” she said. “And then I saw a senior go to university in Korea. It made me realize that could be a real option.”

The pull of Korean pop culture and soft power, including its beauty standards, convenience, stylish idols and dramas, created a kind of emotional familiarity long before these students stepped onto Korean soil. And that comforting familiarity, as it turns out, can easily become a fantasy.

A scene from Japanese network TBS drama series titled ″Eye Love You,″ which aired from Jan. 23 to March 26, 2024, featuring Japanese actor Fumi Nikaido, left, and Korean actor Chae Jong-hyeop. The drama centers around a love story between a Japanese woman and Korean man. [TBS]

“There’s definitely some kind of mutual idealization going on,” said Kubo. “Recently in Japan, Korean guys are kind of seen as princes coming out of a romantic manga. And I’ve also heard from Korean guys that Japanese girls are thoughtful, caring and sweet. It goes both ways.”

Kubo pointed out that this mutual romanticization has, in some circles, become a kind of social status symbol. “Having a Korean boyfriend or a Japanese girlfriend has kind of become a trend,” she said.

Ogata has noticed similar patterns. “It’s like the image of Korean men has gone up,” she said, pointing to the influence of dramas and idols. She mentioned that a lot of Japanese people are really impacted by that kind of entertainment, and Korean men are often seen as gentler and more attractive.

Nwabunwanne echoed this, adding that language and geography also play a role.

“A lot of Japanese women come to Korea because the grammar is similar, so the language is easier to learn. Plus, Korea is right next to Japan.” She also mentioned dating apps designed to connect Korean men and Japanese women. “I’ve heard of people meeting that way, and I think watching Korean idols or dramas can really create a sense of admiration.”

But to Kubo, whether fantasized or not, these relationships often spark something deeper. “Even if it starts with a stereotype, it can still become an entry point,” she said. “People start learning the language, traveling and listening.”

The “deeper learning,” however, isn’t always easy. Reality hit Kubo in unexpected ways when she arrived at Sungkyunkwan’s Seoul campus. The challenge wasn’t the language, but the terrain. The university’s Seoul campus, built into a steep hill, confused even longtime students.

“You might enter a building and end up on the fourth floor already, just depending on where you walk in,” she said.

So, she made a map. “We thought it would be helpful to know, for example, which entrance brings you to which floor,” she said. “So before the semester started, I made a kind of list showing which buildings connect and what floor each leads to, and I shared it with other students.”

A screen capture of a campus map created by the Japanese student association at Sungkyunkwan University. [SUNGKYUNKWAN UNIVERSITY JAPANESE STUDENT ASSOCIATION]

Other forms of disorientation were more social. In Japan, Kubo said, it’s very normal to eat alone. But in Korea, she observed that eating alone often draws attention. She also struggled at first with casual conversation topics. “People talk about politics and religion like it’s nothing all the time with friends,” she said. “In Japan, those are generally considered off-limits. It still feels strange.”

Ogata experienced a different kind of culture shock.

“Japanese people tend to be more reserved and don’t always say what they really think,” she said. “But Korean people speak very honestly and directly, even in situations where that might seem rude to us.”

She recalled being startled by the intensity of everyday conversations, mentioning that sometimes it feels like people are fighting even if they’re not. The sheer bluntness and frequent use of curse words in casual speech caught her off guard.

“It’s really different from Japan,” she said, “but I’ve come to understand it as just another way of being open.”

Sakai, a political science and diplomacy major, has experienced even more direct discomfort.

In class, she has been asked to explain Japan’s stance on sensitive topics on wartime history. “It puts a lot of pressure on you when people expect you to speak for the whole country,” she said.

Outside the classroom, the friction sometimes lingers. At a part-time job, Sakai once had a customer refuse service from her because she was Japanese.

“It stung,” she admitted. “But honestly, the kindness I’ve received in Korea outweighed the rest.”

These moments of friction and the quiet acts of care that follow are what slowly reshape the relationships these students have with Korea and themselves.

Korea's national flag is hanging on the wall of a district office in Suwon, Gyeonggi, in July ahead of the Liberation Day, which falls on Aug. 15. [NEWS1]

For many, one of the biggest shifts comes during national holidays, especially Liberation Day, which commemorates Korea’s independence from Japan’s colonial rule.

Ogata, although never experiencing the discomfort herself, mentioned that on Japanese social media, people still post warnings about going outside in Korea during Liberation Day. Nwabunwanne also mentioned that her friend was advised not to work at her part-time job on that day.

But many students like Kubo choose to face it head-on.

“I don’t think I have the right to feel uncomfortable on that day,” Kubo said. “In Japan, the colonization of the Korean Peninsula was covered in maybe 10 pages of a textbook. Living here, I’ve learned how much was missing.”

For Kubo, Liberation Day isn’t something to avoid but something to engage. “It’s a reminder to listen, to learn, to not center yourself. That’s the work,” she said. She spends her time reading Korean historical materials, watching documentaries and reflecting. “The same events that are a footnote in Japan are entire books here,” she said.

And just as they unlearn assumptions about Korea, Japanese students are also quietly challenging the ones placed on them. “Sometimes people say I’m not like a Japanese person,” Kubo said. “But I am Japanese.”

Whether it’s through language, gestures or simply showing up in shared spaces, these students are slowly expanding what it means to be Japanese in Korea. They are clearing away both their own and others’ generalizations.

At Kyungpook, Sakai’s student association runs Japanese language classes for Korean students and regular Korea-Japan cultural exchange events.

“We usually get 15 to 30 Korean students each time,” she said. “It’s really the dialogue that matters.”

Korean and Japanese students take part in the culture exchange program hosted by the Japanese student association at Kyungpook National University in March. [KYUNGPOOK NATIONAL UNIVERSITY JAPANESE STUDENT ASSOCIATION]

These are not just support groups — they are relationship building spaces. Kubo advised future Japanese students, “There are going to be so many moments where things that make sense to you don’t make sense to others. But don’t be discouraged or offended. Don’t treat these moments as failures. Use them as a chance to grow.”

Despite their different history and sizes, all three Japanese student associations share a quiet momentum. At Hanyang, the organization has just started off. Ogata and Nwabunwanne are still trying to organize casual meetups and spread word through KakaoTalk. “We just want Japanese students to have somewhere to gather around,” said Ogata.

At Kyungpook, Sakai hopes to build more bridges with other international student groups like Chinese and Filipino, so that Japanese students can connect beyond the safety of shared language.

And at Sungkyunkwan, Kubo says her mission is simple: to make life easier for other students. “I don’t want anyone to feel as lost as I did,” she said.

In small, steady ways, these students are not only adjusting to life abroad. They are reimagining what it means to live between histories and cultures, one step at a time.

BY SHI CHUTIAN [[email protected]]