Splync v1.7 Is Hexalingual

Splync v1.0 began as a monolingual app with English only. Later, Splync v1.3 expanded into four languages — adding Japanese, French, and Simplified Chinese. The localized interface worked smoothly and felt natural, so I continued the journey. With v1.7, Splync learns two more languages: Spanish and Korean. This brings the app from quadrilingual to hexalingual, opening the door to even more people around the world. Spanish is spoken by an estimated 490 to 500 million native speakers, making it one of the most widely used languages in the world. Korean adds another 75 to 80 million native speakers, mainly across South Korea, North Korea, and global diaspora communities. By supporting these two languages, Splync v1.7 expands its potential reach by more than 560 million additional native speakers — a significant step toward welcoming users from more corners of the world.

Spanish was practically my second foreign language. When I was around 21, I stayed in the United States for 90 days — simply because the visa-free limit allowed me to stay for 90 days, so I decided to make the most of it. To my surprise, I ended up making many friends who spoke Spanish. America was far more diverse than I had imagined. One day, I wrote an email to a girl from Honduras. I wanted to surprise her, so I looked up “friend” in a dictionary and learned the word "amigo." I happily opened the message with “Hola, amigo!” But instead of being surprised, she just corrected me. She wrote back that she was not "amigo", but "amiga!" I had no idea what she was talking about. That moment was my first encounter with a gendered language. Now that I speak French much better than Spanish, I no longer think of Spanish as my second foreign language. But I still dream of traveling across Spain, Central America, or South America, talking with lively people in their beautiful language.

A few months later, I wanted to call a Korean friend I had met through a volunteer program in America. I had his phone number written on a note, but for some reason a woman I didn’t know answered. I told her my friend’s name, yet I couldn’t understand whether she recognized it or whether I had dialed the wrong number. She didn’t speak any English, so I hung up. But I didn’t give up. I spent about five minutes studying Korean on the Internet and learned a few basic phrases such as “I don’t speak Korean,” “I am Japanese,” and even “Are you his sister?” Armed with these lines, I called the same number again. This time, she seemed to understand what I was saying — but I still couldn’t understand her reply. Eventually, I gave up. A few years later, I visited Busan by ferry. By then, my Korean vocabulary had increased maybe tenfold compared to those five minutes of study. I could ask for discounts at shops or ask for directions. But the pattern was always the same: people understood what I was saying, but I could not understand what they were saying back. Still, Korean people were always polite and kind to me. I’ve always felt a sense of closeness to them — both psychologically and geographically.

Learning these languages through real encounters also made me curious about the cultures behind them — especially how people share costs in daily life. From what I learned, splitting costs among friends is generally common across Spanish-speaking countries, though dating often follows more traditional expectations. In several parts of Latin America, men are still expected to pay on the first date, a practice sometimes tied to ideas of responsibility or masculinity. Younger generations and urban areas are shifting toward more flexible habits, but the contrast between casual gatherings and dating norms remains. Of course, the Spanish-speaking world is too diverse to draw a single conclusion, but this was the overall pattern I noticed.

Meanwhile, Korean dining culture has traditionally favored having one person pay for the entire meal — usually the eldest, the host, or the person of higher status. For a long time, dividing the bill evenly could feel awkward or impolite. Today, though, friends and younger people split the bill much more commonly, even as the “one person pays” custom still persists in formal settings or among older generations. And interestingly, despite the differences between the two cultures, dating shows a similar pattern to Spanish-speaking regions: men often take on a larger share of the cost, even as modern couples gradually move toward a more balanced approach. Understanding these nuances helps me think about how Splync can support different ways of sharing costs.

The above discussions are simply based on what I gathered from hearing and reading about these cultures, so if you come from these regions and have different perspectives, I would genuinely love to hear them. In the end, every human relationship is unique. I try to avoid falling into stereotypes, and I keep believing in the values of Splync as our community grows. I will perhaps never know who might find Splync useful — and that is part of the excitement.