I often say there are two kinds of people who come to live and work in South Korea: those who stay for a long time and those who leave quickly.

Too simple, I know. But there is truth to it. Some people find Korea to be a difficult place and, for any number of reasons, they either can't adapt or can't figure the people out. They typically leave frustrated after just a year or two. For the other group, Korea has an intangible allure that keeps them coming back for more.

Count me in the latter camp.

I arrived in 1995, planning for just a one-year tour of adventure and student-loan repayment. Instead, I enjoyed the life so much that it took me five years to extricate myself. Then after a three-year hiatus in Canada, I found myself missing the action and returned in 2003.

What's so special about Korea? By now, it's a cliché to talk about how dynamic Korea is. But it's even truer today than when I first arrived. The country has a constant buzz, sustained by its famously in-a-hurry population. There is a reason why the words ppalli-ppalli, meaning 'fast fast,' are among the first words that nearly all foreigners learn soon after arrival.

Dense and Inviting

The dynamism derives in part from the sheer density of the place. Some 23 million people live in and around Seoul, with all the outlying suburbs fully connected by one of the most advancedsubway systems in the world. This makes for fantastically efficient commutes. I do mine in 20 minutes at a cost of about 80 cents.

Seoul will never rival New York or Toronto for culturaldiversity, but its urban landscape is both lively and charming. The factories that made the city core gray and uninviting when I arrived have been banished to sterileindustrial parks in the provinces, leaving the commercial and residential zones to grow and bustle cheek-by-jowl.

As a longtime foreign resident, the trend I've enjoyed watching the most over the past decade is the demise of the 'development first' attitude. Koreans are still charging hard, still obsessed with their position relative to other countries, but they are finally starting to enjoy their affluence by building themselves a better quality of life. Road traffic is no longer more important than pedestrians, the arts have flourished, and design is now a central tenet in urban planning. People take longer vacations and travel the world.

The Outsiders

One thing hasn't changed, though: At the end of the day foreigners here will always be foreigners.

Koreans are poor at cultural integration, particularly when it comes to incorporating Westerners in their corporate hierarchies, where younger workers are expected to follow their older colleagues. My experience is that foreigners don't fit well in that hierarchy, especially if they are white. Too often, older team members don't know how to relate to foreigners. They may lack the linguistic skills, or simply feel that a foreigner can't be ordered around like they do their younger colleagues.

In such an environment, a foreigner will tend to be marginalized, or perhaps relegated to talking to a junior person on the team who happens to have lived in the U.S. but in truth isn't privy to strategy or creative discussions. As a result, even foreigners who speak Korean well can feel underutilized, their skills unappreciated.

A close associate of mine recently left Seoul for Sydney because his firm, a 100-person local branch of a multinational, failed to appreciate the considerablemanagement skills he brought to the table. It didn't help that his educated and career-oriented wife could not find meaningful employment. This is a common complaint among spouses. It is difficult for both halves of an expatriate couple to be comfortable here, unless one of them doesn't mind volunteering or writing a book for a year or two.

Global vs. Exceptional

That same push-pull