Taxi Time – 2

One thing about taking the taxi, you get a chance to meet some of the bold men in town. I told my family about the following encounters, all of which took place on the same day.

“Where do you work?” a man asked me on my way to the office. “In this district,” I answered vaguely. “I will follow you so I can see where you work.” “Mmm,” I replied, thinking, “If we were in the States, this would be stalking!” Fortunately, he got off at an earlier stop, but wasn’t quite ready to give up the connection. “See, that is where I work. You need to come see me.” “Maybe sometime,” was my next vague reply. “No! Not ‘sometime’! It must be today.”

Then on the way home, as I changed taxis, a man came up to my window. “Do you love me?” was his opening gambit. Perhaps he could tell I wasn’t sure he could be addressing me – it was partly this that delayed my response, and partly a thought process that went something like, “I’m in Africa because of the love of Christ, but I’m sure that’s not what you’re interested in” – for he repeated his application. “Obruni [white person],” he pressed, “Do you love me? Will you marry me?” “Not that much!” I laughed as the taxi drove off.

After the taxi dropped me off, yet a third man came up and kept pace with me from the taxi stop to my front door, full of questions and warm invitations to visit his – hmm, I’m not exactly sure what it was, but some place where they showcase traditional dress and dance. You may imagine I was relieved to get home that day. =)

Fortunately, Pastor Tirumbu has assured me that if any men get too aggressive, I need only refer them to my “African dad,” which he says will take care of everything. “And if anyone does come and ask to marry you, I will tell him the bride price is 300 cows, and then he will drop it.”

Just in case you ever wondered what I was worth. ;)