Okay, I’m not actually in Korea yet. I’m at home in Plano, Texas, doing my best to feel like a productive member of society instead of an unemployed dropout (which is probably what the people at every Starbucks in the greater Dallas area have come to think of me as).

See, the school I’ll be attending in Korea (the Catholic University of Korea, or CUK) has a much different academic schedule than that of most Western universities. Their first semester runs March to June, followed by a short break, then the second semester from July to November. This means I came home in early December for the normal SEU winter holiday, but won’t leave for Korea until the last day of February. I’m mostly enjoying this monster-size semester break, but I would give anything to just be at CUK already.

Korea has been on the horizon for a little over a year now, and over that span of time I’ve told gradually more and more people about my travel plans. As of now, I’m sure my closest friends probably want me to leave already so they don’t have to listen to me going on about bulgoggi and K-pop any longer. In the process of revealing my study abroad plans, I’ve noticed there are a few extremely popular reactions:

“Why Korea?”

This is a legitimate question. It’s just the tone that sometimes bothers me. More times than I would like, people have asked me this question with a sound in their voice similar to if they were asking something like “Why are you putting peanut butter on your tuna salad?” or “Do you have something fungal growing between your fingers?”

I suppose Korea is a slightly less popular study abroad destination than, say, Rome or London. But Seoul is a huge, thriving city, and Korean culture (from ancient history to shiny new music videos) fascinates me. And besides that, I think I chose Korea partly because it wasn’t what some might consider a “typical” destination. When it comes down to it, though, my main reason for choosing Korea is the same reason anyone chooses to go anywhere–because it seems like fun.

“Korea? Cool! My [friend, relative, significant other] went to Japan once! [Two-minute-long anecdote about Japanese culture]”

For whatever reason, I have heard this exact response upwards of eight times from relatives, fellow students, coworkers and even an eavesdropping waiter or two. It baffles me. I’m not saying Japan and Korea are totally incomparable, and I know people who say this are earnestly trying to find a way to relate to my news, but Japan and Korea are two countries. Two distinct, unique, complicated countries. There’s a lot of cultural overlap, sure, but how am I supposed to respond to a highly detailed, opinionated anecdote about a country I know pretty much nothing about? That’s cool that you had a layover in Tokyo once, I guess. I’m glad your uncle enjoyed Mt. Fuji. I don’t know what else to say.

“Oh my gosh, which Korea?”

North, of course!

…To be fair, about half of the people who say this are joking. But the other half are completely serious and it worries me.

“But aren’t you afraid you’ll accidentally end up in the Bad Korea?”

My mom was the first to spring this one on me and I think it takes the cake. The border between North Korea and South Korea is not like the border between Oklahoma and Texas–you know, “Oh no! I went too far north on the interstate and ended up in Oklahoma!”

The possibility of me accidentally winding up at the feet of Kim Jong-un on my way to the grocery store is about as likely as me seeing tortilla chips and not eating them. It just doesn’t happen.

You can’t “accidentally” go to North Korea. That’s why there’s the DMZ, or demilitarized zone, a fancy term for lots of walls and fences and armed guards staring at each other 24/7.

So don’t worry Ma, I’ll be fine.