Let me tell you about the time I was a little bit famous. When I graduated with my shiny journalism degree in the late nineties, the world was in the middle of a massive transition from paper to electronic mass communication. For local papers, it meant people no longer paid for news that they could read for free on the never ending information stream known as the World Wide Web. Instead of hiring, newspapers were firing. What was in demand was native English speakers with a degree and the willingness to move across the globe.

So, I spent two years in the city of Kaifeng in the Henan Province of the People’s Republic of China. While you probably haven’t heard of the city, it has 2 million people. Its cultural high point was when it was a capital during the Song Dynasty over a thousand years ago. By the time I got there, it was a moderately interesting tourist stop halfway between Shanghai and Beijing.

There were hardly any foreigners that visited, let alone lived there, so new college teachers were the talk of the town. The first year, my colleague and I were invited citywide activities and I was asked to give a speech about friendship. People would stop us for photos. The young people gossiped about what other cities we visited and if we were dating anyone. They kept confusing me for another white, female teacher in a nearby city.

At first it was fun getting a lot of attention and invitations, but it became exhausting. People came by our apartment day and night with requests, and strangers on the street would yell random English phrases at us. Some people wanted money, a green card, or to have us participate in some promotional activity. One time a taxi driver took us wildly out of route to swing by his neighborhood to show us off to his friends and family—it was a light kidnapping. We were tricked into being featured on a provincial television show where we were expected to perform a Christmas song. It turned out slightly less cringey than the Russian language teachers who attempted to do a dance.

My second year marked my decline in popularity, as there were brand new teachers! I was still invited to some banquets, but shuffled to the back. I was last year’s news and didn’t mind it. Now, if people reached out it was because they were interested in getting to know me rather getting me to promote something or someone. I made real friendships and connections, and was grateful to return home to a life of relative obscurity.