Celebrity Status

Here's one thing living in Korea has taught me:

I have no desire to become a celebrity.

Let me explain. As you know, Teaven and I live in a small city, where there are only about 70-100 foreigners. The population of the city is about equal to Killeen, so that gives you some idea of how small that number is.

In our town, foreigners are a spectacle, a sight to see or rather say, "Hello. Nice to meet you." (I could write a whole other blog on how many people have told me it was nice to meet me when they don't even know my name.) And, I think Teaven and I are the only white people who live in our apartment complex, which is not small by any means. We are practically celebrities here. Ok, maybe that's too strong of a word, but that's what I feel like sometimes. Everybody knows us. Everybody knows that we live on the fifth floor. Everybody knows that we have a beagle.

And, frankly, I'm tired of everybody involving themselves in my life. It's nice when they just say hello and keep walking. But when they decide it's their business to tell me what to do with my dog or what not to do with my dog, I get a little peeved. Last night, as I was taking Sader out, a lady started talking to me.

"Dog (points to Sader). Pee." Then she proceeds to make a motion like she's picking something up. Naturally, I was a little confused because nobody picks up pee. So, I just said "Neh." But she persisted, and I finally, in my broken Korean, told her that Sader was not going to poop outside. This seemed to satisfy her, and we both went on our way, me a little annoyed that she thought I needed to know I have to pick up after my dog. Then, Teaven comes in this morning after taking Sader out and said the same thing happened to him.

It's not the first time something like that has happened. People always ask if I'm going running with Sader or where we are going. Sometimes, we'll get in the elevator, and they will have already selected the fifth floor for us.

Another prime example is the other night, Teaven and I were at a pub not far from our school. We were there with some of our friends, and a man sent a note on a napkin to one of our Korean friends saying that he knew who we were and was wondering if he could talk to us. When he came over, he told us he knew we had a Beagle and what floor we lived on. I'm pretty sure he used us as an excuse to talk to our pretty Korean friend, but still it's pretty creepy.

It's also not unheard of for us to be out at a restaurant or something and see people with their phones out taking pictures of us. Yeah, we're just that cool.

Then again, sometimes I'm thankful when people remember me, but that's only usually when I go to order pizza or something that we regularly eat. And, I'm happy that I don't have to stumble over my Korean words while trying to order correctly.

I guess that's just Chungju for you. Here we are living the lives of rock stars.

Tidbits

To say that Teaven and I are ready to go home is a slight understatement. We are more than ready to hug all of our family and friends. To sit around and chat. To go to church and worship with other believers. To go to Walmart and blend in to the crowd, nobody caring who we are. To be able to communicate with a random stranger without a problem.

But in all that readiness, I don't want to forget that my time here is still important. We are down to the 6 month mark now, and it's easy to let my thoughts drift to what I will do and who I will see when I get back.

But I don't want to forget this place. I think once we leave, we will love and appreciate it even more than we do now. We will look back in fondness of the first home we made together, of the lessons we have learned.

I have no doubt that God brought us here for a reason, and one of those reasons is being able to focus on our marriage. There has been a lot that has happened back home that, if we were there, would naturally pull us in all kinds of different directions. Here, however, it's just us. No interference, no crazy schedules that cause us to barely see each other. Just me and him. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

Coming here, I was sure that living and working with my husband would cause some friction, some irritation of being with the same person day in and day out. I'm so thankful that isn't true. If anything, Teaven and I have learned that we can spend every single moment together and still enjoy being with each other. That's not to say there aren't times when we need some space, but it's nice reassurance knowing that we aren't sick of each other. That we still love every moment we have together. And I really think we will miss this time together when we get back to America and have crazy schedules.

God knew what he was doing, and I want to remember that every day I am here. Every moment I feel that discontent rising up in me. Every time I wish for the day I can go home instead of enjoying the here and now. I want to remember that where we are is where he wants us to be and where we go will be where he wants us to go.