Courtesy of Huy Phan

I stumbled into the pharmacy. The door made an uncomfortably loud sound and the sweat was already forming on my forehead. I had just dropped off my son at his golf lesson and now had to pick up my daughter from her K-pop class. I decided I’d get some hangover medicine from the doctor on the way. “Sukchwiga itgo hal iri manaseo yak pilyohamnida (I have a hangover and a lot of work so can you give me some medicine please),” I said to the woman in the white coat. To be fair, the doctor was familiar with both my Korean and my weekend consumption habits so she quickly prepared the drink, the tablets, and a space on the counter for me to down them while she scanned my card.

I moved swiftly, twisting the caps, ripping the packets, and then shoved it all down me, hoping to clear my head. As I turned with the vitamin drink in my hand, I saw three elderly grandmothers sat together on the bench. I had not seen them when I walked in but now here they were. Silent. Eyes wide open. Dressed in outrageous flower-print clothes and looking at me very intently.

I put the bottle down on the counter, smiled, and said politely, “oegugindeuldo sukchwiga itseumnida (foreigners get hangovers, too).” There was a pause. Almost a beat too long for a comedy routine. It was uncomfortable and I wasn’t sure whether they had understood me or perhaps they were just somewhat perturbed by the sight of a somewhat reddish and tired-looking foreigner in their local pharmacy. And then it began.

They berated me loudly........

© The Korea Times