I spent too much time looking at spreadsheets for language schools

Staring at flight prices and tuition spreadsheets

I remember sitting in my room in Dongtan, staring at a monitor filled with tabs about language schools in the Philippines. It started out as a simple curiosity about whether I could actually improve my English before looking into something more permanent like migration or just a career break. Everyone I talked to seemed to have a different opinion. Some people told me that three months at a ‘Sparta’ academy was the absolute minimum if I wanted to stop translating everything in my head and actually speak. Others just sent me links to promotions from agencies like PhilTong, mentioning that some places go for around 700,000 KRW a month if you catch them during the off-season.

Looking back, I probably spent more time obsessing over the tuition costs than I did actually studying. There were so many variables—1+1 promotions, experiential discount programs, and the inevitable hidden fees that only seem to appear once you start clicking through the enrollment forms. It felt less like preparing for an education trip and more like managing a budget for a failing startup. I kept wondering if the price difference between a high-end school and a budget-friendly one would actually translate into better pronunciation or just better air conditioning.

The anxiety of sending money across borders

When I finally decided to move forward, the next headache was the wire transfer. I used to think bank counters were the only way to do this, and honestly, the thought of filling out those forms in a physical branch felt intimidating and archaic. Then someone mentioned the Toss Bank overseas remittance service. It’s funny how a small interface change—like being able to track your money in real-time as if you were ordering a delivery—completely changes your stress levels. I remember watching that status bar update on my phone and thinking how strange it is that we trust an app with thousands of dollars so easily, yet I still worry about whether the school will actually have my room ready when I arrive.

I read that they saved customers 1 billion won in fees over six months. I don’t know if I really saved that much personally, but it felt better than dealing with the traditional bank staff who always looked at me like I was making a massive financial error. It’s all very convenient until the app glitches or you send money to the wrong account digit, which was my biggest nightmare. I spent three hours double-checking the IBAN and the school’s account details before finally hitting the ‘send’ button.

Walking into a crowded study hall experience

Before settling on the Philippines, I tried one of those English study groups back here. It wasn’t quite the same as an ESL program in a foreign country, but it was supposed to get me ‘warmed up.’ Most of the people there were just like me—terrified of opening their mouths and sounding unnatural. We spent an hour talking about our jobs and our travel plans, and I left feeling mostly just tired. It didn’t really fix the issue of my hesitant, choppy speaking rhythm.

I think I misunderstood the point of those meetings. I wanted a quick fix, a way to skip the awkward phase of learning, but I don’t think that exists. Even in those ‘Study in Korea’ fairs I see popping up in places like Sao Paulo, where universities set up booths to lure students, the focus always feels like it’s on the prestige of the degree or the scholarship. Nobody talks about the days where you just sit in your room, feeling isolated, wondering if the money you spent was worth it.

Still uncertain about the final results

Now that I’m actually looking at the timeline, the duration feels both too short and too long. If I go for three months, am I going to be productive, or am I going to spend the first month just recovering from the heat and the culture shock? There’s this lingering doubt that keeps me awake. I see these ads for primary school camps and intensive ESL programs, and they all promise this massive transformation, but the reality is likely just a lot of humid days in a classroom and trying to make small talk with other students who are equally confused. I haven’t officially booked the flight yet. I keep telling myself that if I don’t do it now, I’ll regret it later, but sometimes I think about just staying in Korea and finding a local tutor instead. The uncertainty is the part nobody really tells you about in those flashy brochures.