Our Two Husbands

Marriage has been on my mind a lot recently. Can you blame me? I get about 3 proposals each day from Senegalese suitors looking for "American woman."

Bug spray & boyfriends-- two important deterrents.

Sara is obviously the smarter one of the two of us. Before leaving the States, she read in some Lonely Planet book that it was a good idea for female travelers to invent a fake husband who would be arriving "tomorrow" --Johnny Depp was suggested-- to fend off unwanted advances.  We talked about how this would be a good thing for us to do, given that we didn't want to attract any unnecessary suspicions since we would be traveling in conservative countries.  Without pause Sara yelled out, "I call Jon Paine!", a mutual (and spoken for) friend. The two of them cuddled up on the couch together and snapped a photo; one that, when not folded up in Sara's passport, is perfectly positioned on the nightstand for any visitors to note.

Let me call you sweetheart...

I, on the other hand, struggled to find a man at first. I felt like goldilocks: he's too "just not that into me", he's too "er, related", and he's too "unconvincing".

At first (like 15 mins), it didn't matter that I wasn't "married".   As long as one of us was married, no one would suspect that we are a couple.

But now, I'm realizing I'm just an idiot. When Sara gets asked, etes-vous marriee?, she promptly replies "oui!". When I get asked, I stupidly tell the truth.  "You can marry me and be happy," says every cab driver. To be honest, these Senegalese men are not bad with their pick-up lines:

1. I loave you.
2. I am baarrahko baama number two.
3. Why not?

The ring fits perfectly.  It's clearly just for me.

Now, after the 50th proposal, I'm finally beginning to out wit the witted:

1. You want to find an American woman? Go to America, there are beaucoup de women there who, too, won't understand what you're saying.
2. No, I'm not looking for a Senegalese man. Why not? Because it's a big world and Senegal is a small country, tu comprends?
3. I don't do sister wives.
4. Après.
Note: for some unknown reason, "après" is the magic word of all magic words. A street vendor selling "raybands" will follow you for 25 blocks with "non mercis", but give him one "après" and he peels off like a Blue Angel at an air show. They don't ask "after" what, and they don't ask how I will find them again "after" I've finished doing whatever I'm going to do.

Just think Sara wasted $10 on the fake wedding ring she bought at Dulles Airport. "Honey, if you're looking for fakes, I've got some nice ones in this case over heeer."