Jung Hun Chae has a big decision to make. Like any other University student, the sophomore in LAS wants to enjoy the relief that follows choosing a major, filling in that last multiple choice bubble on a final exam and making summer plans with friends; instead, he needs to determine whether he will delay his 21-month military service requirement in South Korea, which is currently scheduled to begin this August.

No matter what he decides, Chae knows that, along with every South Korean male over the age of 18, he eventually must complete this conscription — and the sooner, the better.

Chae says that he can delay his scheduled beginning date up to around a week before, but he originally indicated that he would prefer to go early.

According to Chae, it is recommended to go at a younger age. This is primarily because soldiers are ranked largely based on how long they have served. In other words, a 30-year-old who just began his service could be receiving orders from a 19-year-old who is several months into his requirement.

While Chae does not cite this as one of the reasons for his decision to enter the Korean military so young, he also said that a disruption of the age hierarchy in Korean culture could be considered “humiliating.”

For Chae, building an academic background before entering the military, or goondae, was most important for his future plans to work in South Korea.

This is one of the more common reasons for men to interrupt their education, said Hee Jung Choi in an email. The anthropology doctoral candidate notes that if they were to enter into the goondae before attending college, they would enter the job market without any post-secondary academic preparation.

In order to be a competitive candidate in the South Korean job market, however, Korean men know that their military service is an essential component to their resumé and their ability to assimilate into the adult world, according to Nancy Abelmann, professor of Asian American Studies.

“It’s a legal requirement, but also it’s something that culturally is part of becoming an adult male,” she said.

Abelmann further noted that it is because of the honor and respect associated with men who have completed their service that some males who would be able to receive a waiver for service opt to serve anyway. Abelmann said these waivers are “quite complicated” and are justified through loopholes like earning a green card.

The legal requirements have also become complicated in the process of assigning men to certain areas of military service. Family connections and positions of power within Korean society can allow people to manipulate the system and receive more favorable assignments, something that is rare but, nonetheless, a “sore subject” for Koreans, Abelmann said.

However, it is not the type of assignment he will receive that worries Chae. As an international student with a Malaysian high school education and very little time spent in South Korea, Chae mostly fears that he will struggle with integrating into Korean cultural intricacies.

“I’m really not used to Korean life,” he said. “I’m afraid that that’s going to put me behind all the other Koreans going into the military … I can still speak (Korean), and I’m still fluent. But I don’t know the formalities and the complex system.”

According to Un Jeong Park, doctoral student in Education and president of the Korean Student Association, this is one of the benefits of the military service; it provides Korean students, who often study abroad in elementary school and may only have attended non-Korean schools, the opportunity to immerse themselves in their native country’s culture and learn the discipline necessary to succeed in the public sector.

On the other hand, for those who spend their entire lives in Korea, education is largely textbook-based and less social than in America, Park said. The goondae allows them to work with different types of people and develop the skills that cannot be taught in the classroom. In some cases, however, integrating them with Koreans who have studied abroad can emphasize the differences in background and create bitterness, said Chae, because not everyone is given equal opportunity to study in another country. The envy is what causes the government to keep a watchful eye on those who study abroad and ensure that these students pay what Abelmann calls their “luxury tax.”

Along with that tax comes the cost of cutting ties with the civilian world for a full 21 months. Soldiers have very little compensation outside of their room and board, along with limited internet access and cell phone usage, Chae said. This makes it difficult to keep up with the news and stay connected to family and friends.

If all goes according to the current schedule, Chae said before beginning his two months of boot camp, he will spend the last few weeks with his family and friends.

“I know by July I’ll start to be more freaked out … I’ll probably just get together with friends and, I don’t know, spend my last few days with them,” he said, his voice trailing off as he reflected on the possibility of a 21-month separation from them.

“Once you come out, it’s a whole new world,” he added. “My brother went in (the goondae) and when he came out he didn’t even know what a smart phone was.”

They can even miss out on quality health care, as Chae’s brother learned when he was injured during service and experienced medics who had to flip through books to determine his treatment.

When Korean men re-enter the education system to finish their degrees, the return to school becomes challenging because they have been separated from the academic realm for so long and are much older than their classmates, Abelmann said.

The challenge proves even more prominent for students who return to the United States.

“When you’re in Korea, people know that you were in the military so they respect you,” Chae said. “But when you’re going to school (in America), only the Koreans really know about it, so it’s kind of like, ‘Why is this guy still a sophomore when he’s 24 or 25?’”

With the ever-mounting tensions between North and South Korea, Choi said the duration of the requirement will not be shortened any time soon.

Regardless of how long he will have to serve, Chae has come to terms with his responsibility as a South Korean man and has decided to focus instead on his brother’s words of wisdom.

“Try to make the best of it, try to see the world from a different perspective and see what everyone else has gone through,” Chae said of his brother’s post-service advice. “If you see it in optimistic terms, that’s one good thing you can learn from it. Just try to keep a good mindset.”