Well it happened. Not at all in the way that I always thought it would, but I was proposed to. I was asked to marry a man in the same way that someone would ask if you wanted to buy bread. It happened on Saturday afternoon while I was in Fetteh getting some eggs & plantains. I was talking to Esther, the woman whose food stall I always visit on weekends. She had a visitor from up north sitting with her. He began asking me about what I was doing here, the usual questions. Then he said something about it being harder to go visit the states than it is for us to come here. He said that often you have to marry an American. He went on to talk about his brother that lived in Ohio. Then in the middle of the conversation he popped the question, "Could you and I get married?" It caught me quite off guard and I just stared for a second, then he said "Maybe I am too old for you, I am getting on to 50." It took me an awkward second to say that yes that wouldn't work. He then asked, "What do you think?" As if I hadn't just rejected him. I replied that I was not ready to get married. He said he was probably too old anyways, and that maybe I had a financee back in America anyway. He said next time he was in town he would bring me some plantains and yams and we could just be friends, and that he would ask for my phone number. I finished the conversation as quickly as I could and tried to make it away from the stand with a straight face. Wishing someone else had just witnessed this marriage proposal.
Back at home that evening I was doing something in the kitchen when I noticed the largest spider I have ever seen on the floor in the corner. Slightly unnerved I grabbed a nearby broom to do some damage. Unfortunately he saw me coming and made a run for it. He narrowly missed my blows each time. I was pretty sure I had struck a fatal blow, but then he dissapeared. Sadly, I have yet to find him. Beleive me I tried. I would rather not think about the fact that he is still loose somewhere in my house. He is not the first unwanted visitor in my house. A few weeks ago something was jumping up out of my shower drain. I never did quite figure out whether the something was a lizard or a snake. I went to get someone with a machete, and by the time I returned it too had disappeared. (back down the drain, not into my house thankfully)
Last night after church I was doing my usual evening tutoring when the electricity went out. Not that unusual around here. I finished the rest of my tutoring by using the light of my cell phone. Several girls had asked me to teach them multiplication. So I then went to their house and once again pulled out the cell phone to teach them the concept of multiplication and practice making groups with them. It all seemed quite normal to have 5 of us huddled around the light of the cell phone practicing multiplication on the steps of their house. That is, until I was walking home and realized how funny it is that teaching by light of a cell phone (or flashlight) now seems quite natural. In America we would call it a night if the lights went out, but the kids pull out any light sources they have, (including a light up frisbee one night) and continue on.