Teaching Chinese in Daegu: My Experience at Keimyung University

By Chang Na – Associate Professor, Beijing Language and Culture University

Back in 2013, I arrived in Daegu, South Korea, to work as a Chinese teacher at the Confucius Institute of Keimyung University. Nestled at the foot of Wolaksan Mountain, the campus is famous for its Harvard-inspired architecture and ranked among the ten most beautiful campuses in Korea. It even served as a filming location for the Korean version of the popular TV drama Meteor Garden.

For two years, I taught Chinese to university students, professionals, and even middle schoolers who came for weekend culture workshops. Looking back, those years were filled with meaningful teaching moments, cultural surprises, and plenty of laughter.

Age Matters in Korea

In China or the West, asking someone’s age might be impolite. In Korea, however, it is essential. Age determines whether to use honorific language (존댓말), which reflects the Confucian emphasis on hierarchy and respect. Knowing if someone is older or younger helps Koreans decide how to address them politely.

As a result, I quickly discovered that being older could actually be an advantage—junior colleagues often helped me with small tasks at social gatherings, while warmly calling me “Eonni” (older sister). It was both respectful and endearing.

The “Korean Ajummas” of My Class

In our Confucius Institute, we had a famous “Mothers’ Class” composed of devoted middle-aged women who had studied with us since the very beginning. They were always cheerful, impeccably dressed, and incredibly supportive of Chinese teachers abroad.

Their Chinese was impressive, especially in reading and writing characters—a skill linked to Korea’s long historical use of Chinese script. Although younger Koreans today know fewer characters, older learners often excel because of their exposure to classical Chinese texts in school.

I’ll never forget how these women once told me a story of helping a former teacher confront a dishonest shopkeeper. Their energy and courage made me admire them deeply. Truly, “Korean Ajummas” are as legendary as their Chinese counterparts!

Language Learning Challenges

Korean students enjoy certain advantages in learning Chinese—about 70% of Korean vocabulary comes from Chinese characters. But there are also traps.

• Pronunciation difficulties: Koreans often confuse f with p or b, since Korean has no [f] sound. Many mispronounced 房 (fáng, “room”) as bang, influenced by the Korean word 방 (bang). This led to funny situations, like when students introduced “汗蒸房” (jjimjilbang) incorrectly.
• Character errors: Older learners tend to mix simplified and traditional characters due to historical differences.
• Grammar transfer: Korean word order is subject–object–verb (SOV), unlike Chinese (SVO). Beginners often say things like “我饭吃” instead of “我吃饭.”

Despite these challenges, students were hardworking and passionate. They often surprised me with how quickly they grasped cultural nuances once explained through examples.

Cultural Misunderstandings

Sometimes, shared vocabulary created confusion. For example, in Chinese, “爱人” (àirén) usually means “spouse.” But in Korean, 애인 means “lover” or “boyfriend/girlfriend.” Introducing my husband as “我的爱人” once caused giggles among students who thought I meant “my boyfriend.”

Another example is the word “缘分.” In Chinese, it broadly means fate or destiny between people. In Korea, however, it is reserved for romantic fate. Telling a new friend “我们很有缘分” might cause misunderstanding!

Such differences reminded me that teaching Chinese abroad means teaching not only grammar and vocabulary, but also the cultural contexts behind words.

Everyday Impressions of Korea

Life in Korea also taught me much outside the classroom:

• Politeness and respect: Koreans bow frequently, and teachers are highly respected. Even mischievous high school boys became silent when their stern homeroom teacher appeared.
• “Fast culture”: Koreans love efficiency. Delivery is lightning quick, and people often say “빨리빨리!” (hurry, hurry!). This contrasted with China’s habit of saying “慢慢来” (take it slow).
• Beauty and appearance: Makeup is almost universal, even among men. Students noticed immediately if I showed up without makeup!
• Food and lifestyle: Slogans like “身土不二” (“body and soil are one”) highlight Koreans’ pride in local products. Eating Korean beef (한우), drinking soju after work, relaxing in jjimjilbangs, or making kimchi in autumn all reflect a deep cultural identity.

And of course, coffee—Koreans drink an average of 341 cups per person each year, making coffee shops more common than restaurants in many neighborhoods.

Final Reflections

When I first arrived in Korea, I wrote in my diary: “Everyone should spend a season of life walking unfamiliar roads, seeing unfamiliar scenery, and experiencing unfamiliar emotions.”

Those two years in Daegu gave me more than teaching experience—they gave me lifelong memories, friendships, and insights into both Chinese and Korean cultures.

Teaching Chinese abroad is never just about language—it is about discovering how people think, live, and connect. And for me, Daegu will always be a place where I grew as both a teacher and a person.