Waiting in the rain at the embassy felt like a bad omen

The morning fog in Gwanghwamun

I still remember standing outside the U.S. Embassy in Jongno-gu on a humid July morning. The line started way back near the main road, and honestly, the sheer number of people made my stomach churn. I was there for my F-1 visa interview, hoping to head to Arizona State University, but looking at the faces around me, everyone seemed to be carrying a folder thick enough to stop a bullet. I clutched my I-20 document like it was a lifeline, terrified of misplacing a single sheet. The process of getting an interview slot itself had been a complete nightmare, costing me nearly 200,000 KRW just in various processing fees and administrative nonsense, not to mention the endless refreshing of the website at 3 AM.

Why the scrutiny feels so personal

Inside, the air was stagnant and the lights were too bright. When I finally reached the counter, the officer barely looked up from their screen. I kept thinking about the recent news regarding how they are now restricting people from getting a second master’s degree if it looks like they are just using it to extend their stay. It made me feel like I was a suspect rather than a student excited to study. I had my unofficial transcripts tucked away, which I heard were necessary for re-entry, but in that moment, I felt like even a perfect GPA wouldn’t save me if the officer decided they didn’t like my face. There is no logic to how these people operate; one person gets approved in two minutes, and the person before them is grilled for half an hour about their bank statements.

Trying to plan for the future

I’ve heard so many conflicting things about OPT and how it leads to H1B status. Some people swear by staying under the student visa and then shifting to a work permit as soon as possible, but watching the news, it feels like the goalposts are constantly moving. Every time I think I have a plan, a new policy comes out about entry requirements or the need for updated academic records. It’s exhausting to think that even after graduation, my entire ability to stay in the country depends on some bureaucrat checking a box on a screen. My friend who went to a UC school told me it was easier a few years ago, but that doesn’t really help me now when I’m staring at a document pile that looks like a legal brief.

The reality of the travel gap

Before this whole visa mess, I used to think I could just hop back and forth between Seoul and the U.S. whenever I had a break. That’s clearly not the case anymore. Even for a simple trip, the stress of whether your visa status will be questioned at the border is immense. I’ve seen people talk about how the U.S. has simplified things for some, like the ESTA for tourists, but for a student, there is no such convenience. It’s a constant tether. I still have this lingering anxiety that even if I get to Arizona and start my classes, a sudden rule change could force me to pack my bags. There is no such thing as being truly ‘safe’ in this system.

What happens when you just want to study

I suppose the most annoying part is that I’m just trying to pay thousands of dollars in tuition to get an education, yet I feel like I’m begging for permission to be there. I’m not sure if it was worth the trouble of navigating the embassy lines, the endless document gathering, and the fear of a rejection that could ruin my entire academic trajectory. I’m still waiting for my passport to arrive in the mail, and every time the courier buzzes, my heart skips a beat. I don’t know if I’ll feel relieved even if I hold that stamped visa in my hands, or if the uncertainty of what happens after I land in the U.S. will just take its place.