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.