Note: This week's dispatch comes from Seoul, where a $30,000 dental estimate in Seattle led to an unexpected homecoming. Sometimes the best stories start with a dentist appointment.
The 340 bus glides through Seoul's autumn-painted streets with an efficiency that years of living abroad have only made more impressive. Even waiting for the bus feels distinctly Seoul, with heated outdoor benches (cooled in summer) and digital screens counting down to the next arrival with the precision of an atomic clock. On this spotless bus with free high-speed wifi, I trace our route past Olympic Park where golden ginkgo trees line the paths, through the bustling hub of Jamsil. The morning commuters around me are absorbed in their phones or dozing off, while I alternate between people-watching and reading Shiono Nanami's "The Story of the Crusades"—the kind of thick Italian history book that feels perfectly at home in Seoul's library-quiet public transportation, where you could hear a pin drop if not for the gentle hum of electric engines.


This wasn't the homecoming story I planned to tell. The memory that sealed my decision came from my last dental visit in Seoul in 2020. After a comprehensive session including X-rays, cleaning, and treatment, the receptionist had apologized profusely—my national insurance wasn't active, so they had to charge me the full price: $30. Keenan, watching this exchange, had his jaw drop to the floor. So when my dentist in Seattle recently handed me a $30,000 treatment plan, the math was simple: a round-trip ticket to Seoul suddenly seemed like the most practical solution.
What started as a dental decision quickly evolved into something more. If I was flying across the Pacific anyway, why not turn this into a complete wellness reset? After all, Seoul is the perfect place to transform necessary medical visits into a full-scale self-care plan. And so my calendar filled: dental work in the mornings, personal training sessions to combat jet lag, aesthetician visits for intensive bodywork, and dermatologist appointments for much-needed skincare.
The wellness journey begins at my gym, where personal training starts not with a casual chat about fitness goals, but with a meticulous analysis that feels more like a medical consultation. My trainer conducts a full body composition scan, studying my movements and posture with the focused attention of a researcher. Turns out I have the core strength asymmetry of someone who's spent years reaching for their phone with the same hand. My trainer's also on a mission to correct my side-sleeping and leg-crossing habits—decades of muscle memory I'm now awkwardly trying to unlearn, like a cat being taught to walk on a leash.
Between workouts, I find myself at an aesthetician's studio that embodies Seoul's unique blend of ancient wisdom and cutting-edge innovation. Here, traditional guasha massage techniques meet devices that look like they've been transported from the future—sleek machines promising everything from lymphatic drainage to facial contouring. The guasha leaves scattered pink marks that make it look like I've been hugged by an enthusiastic octopus, but my aesthetician assures me this is 'good bruising.' Only in Seoul would temporary skin discoloration have a beauty-focused rebrand.
Perhaps nowhere is the contrast between Korean and American wellness culture more striking than at the dermatology clinic. In the States, dermatologist visits are typically reserved for skin problems or medical conditions. Here, they're part of a regular beauty routine—though calling it a 'clinic' hardly captures the scene. The waiting room buzzes like a popular restaurant during dinner rush, with patients tracking their turn on digital displays while five doctors maintain a steady stream of appointments. Behind rows of consultation rooms lies a maze of treatment beds, each station equipped with futuristic-looking machines under elegant damask wallpaper—a perfect metaphor for Seoul's approach to beauty, where medical-grade treatments meet luxury spa comfort. My dermatologist discusses laser treatments with the casual air of someone recommending dessert options. 'A little zapping here, a little toning there'—what would be a major skincare event in Seattle is just another weekday errand here. My consultation began with a holistic assessment of my skin's condition, followed by a carefully planned regimen of treatments: laser toning for brightness, targeted therapy for dark spots, and procedures for minimizing pores. Each session ends not just with a prescription, but also with a facial massage and mask pack, blurring the line between medical treatment and a full-on spa experience.
Even a simple hair appointment becomes an immersive experience in Korean hospitality. Yesterday's salon visit transported me to what felt like a high-end café where every stylist could be moonlighting as a K-pop idol. The space hums with gentle K-pop beats while offering an endless stream of artisanal teas, fresh juices, and carefully selected snacks. My treatment chair faced a stack of current magazines, but I found myself more captivated by the choreographed efficiency of the staff—each movement precise, each interaction warm and attentive. It's the kind of place where a basic conditioning treatment becomes a two-hour journey into modern Korean service culture.
A grandmother boards with shopping bags full of fresh vegetables from the traditional market, and I imagine how she probably has her own network of wellness spots—the Traditional Chinese Medicine doctor preparing her winter tonics, regular acupuncture appointments for maintaining health, and a skincare routine passed down through generations—perhaps involving natural, accessible ingredients like rice water or traditional herbs. Here, these aren't luxury treatments but essential rhythms, as fundamental as the morning market rounds she's just completed.
As my bus winds back through the city at dusk, past Olympic Park now gilded by sunset, I realize I've found my own path through Seoul's wellness landscape. While others map their journeys through Instagram-famous cafés and K-pop destinations, I'm charting a course between medical clinics and wellness spaces, discovering a Seoul that's both intimately familiar and surprisingly new. My childhood city has evolved into a global beauty and wellness capital, and somehow, I've become its most enthusiastic student.
Coming next Wednesday: Notes from Seoul—Stories from a City in Motion
Want a detailed breakdown of Seoul's wellness services and costs? Stay tuned for a cost & services companion guide coming this Sunday.
Finding home between ancient wisdom and modern science,
Susie