I know nothing

It becomes very clear when I step out of my comfortable and relatively English friendly routine to try to operate in Korean society.

I'm losing my voice. So after work today I went to the doctor to see if I can stop the loss before it's gone and I'm screwed for a week like in September.

First I wasn't even sure if where I was was indeed the doctor's office I wanted. Then the rosy cheeked receptionist giggled incessantly at my approach. She spoke to me in Korean and I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. She could at least have tried some hand motions or something. At a loss, she ran across to the pharmacy to fetch an English speaker.

"Do you speak Korean?" She asked me. What do you think, honey? She asked for my Korean name. Umm... Je-shi-ka is pretty much how it's pronounced, though I suppose I could have given her the name my kids gave me earlier this week: Kim Mi Hyon.

When I got into the examination room, which is really just down a short hall in full view of the waiting room, a gaggle of elementary aged girls just about followed me in and sat on nearby chairs watching me. Give me a little space, please. I just had a bad day with my dumb elementary school kids. I actually hate this new boy I have.

The doctor speaks a fair bit of English and asked me about my symptoms, and then proceeded to prod me with metal and spray strange sprays into my nose and throat. "You will experience mild discomfort". Noo! I think he might have spread Tiger Balm on my throat. He sucked out the contents of my nose. Then he told me to rest my voice and gave me a prescription for who knows what that comes in a crazy-like package. Mini packets of a variety of about six pills to take three times daily.

The doctor's visit cost me three dollars and the drugs cost me four. If another coworker wasn't already taking the day off tomorrow for a genuine reason I would stay home and really try to rest this sucker. Instead I'll see how teaching without talking goes.