I'm taken.

"Ghana Maybe Time", it's the name we affectionately call Ghana's time zone, GMT. I don't know if I've mentioned it before...but Ghanaians are NEVER in a hurry. We Americans around campus are so easy to spot, not just because of our pale skin and awkward apparel, but because we are always running. I feel like I should pass over a baton to the exchange students I'm running past on my way to class. I'm getting used to waiting on the slower-paced, laid-back Ghanaians. When you order food in a restaurant, you should expect to wait at least 2 hours, if not more. Today I was supposed to take my piano exam. I was told to be there at 9. Then 12:30. Then 2:30. Now 4:30. So in 20 minutes I'm going to walk down to the music department AGAIN and hopefully be able to play my Bach and Chopin pieces in front of a jury.

Earlier (after leaving the music department at 2:30 without having taken my test), I was approached by a Ghanaian guy.

"Hello...hello?" he said as he tried to catch up to me. I was walking like an obruni. I glanced slightly to my left as he introduced himself. He was wearing a very nice blue suit and shiny, polished black shoes.

"Please, are you going to the International Hostel?" he asked. "I'm trying to find the place and I don't know where it is. I'm working for the parliament here in Accra."

Wait, oh--he isn't trying to get my number. I glance up at his face this time, allowing eye-contact, which is rare. Oh no--he is trying to get my number. He has that obnoxious look on his face. I point him the direction of ISH and keep on walking.

"Please madam, I have grown fond of your face so soon," he says.

I laugh. "I want to take you," he says, and by this he means that he wants to marry me, of course. I flash my left-hand ring and tell him that I'm already "taken."

"Ooohh--but that doesn't mean anything," he says. I tell him that it does.

"Ehh, it is not your place to say that. I am proposing to you," he says.

"And I am declining your proposal," I said, still walking at my obruni pace (if not a little faster).

"Ehhh, but I have grown so fond of your face," he says again. At this I have had it, but I'm in a more amused mood than usual and so I decide to continue our conversation further.

I throw my hands into the air..."Do you honest-to-goodness think that this pathetic attempt is going to work?? Do you really think that I'm going to say 'Oh YES...please marry me! Take me home with you right this minute!"

He looks shocked. The Ghanaian men I've met haven't been very good at taking rejection. "But this opportunity doesn't just come along every day, and your fiance isn't right for you," he informs me.

"I will take you."

"No you won't."

"Yes, I will."

"No...you won't."

More childish, sibling-like bickering continued until he ran into one of his friends. My escape route finally. He turns to introduce me...but I'm gone like the wind baby. Hiding in the night market and purchasing some boiled yams and cabbage stew. The cabbage stew had a little sardine surprise in it by the way. It's a good day.