On my friend Emily's 15-minute walk to meet me this morning, five men confessed their love and one proposed marriage. I was not surprised.
Relationships are hard enough without the cultural and language barriers one encounters living in another country. Over two years abroad in three different countries, I've had my fair share of awkward, frustrating and liberating experiences.
In a moment of weakness, I made the mistake of giving my number to a nice boy I met on the beach. Soon I was barraged by text messages: "Good evening, Laraine! How are you? I don't know what to do because I always think of our meeting. It is a miracle ... I tried to contact you but you did not answer. Why? Please call me. I need to hear your voice ... Laraine when we were on the beach, everyone asked who is this girl, but I didn't know how to answer that question. It is only you who can answer ... Laraine, tell me if I have done wrong by you. I beg your forgiveness ..."
Twenty unanswered phone calls and five days later, I sent a text: "You need to stop texting me. Leave me alone." So much for nice boys on the beach.
Mahefa was interesting. A lengthy conversation over grilled meat and a bottle of beer covered questions of culture and power. Dirty old white men flirted with their young Malagasy girlfriends on the beachside boulevard beside us even as we disparaged the practice of sex tourism. I told him about life in the United States, about my studies, my boyfriend.
Then he tried to kiss me.
"I'm not going to kiss you," I said.
"Why?"
"I have a boyfriend."
"So? I have a girlfriend. You've never kissed a Malagasy man."
"No, and I don't plan to. I think it's time for me to go."
"I am a bad boy," he said in English.
"Too bad for you. I am a good girl."
The next morning, I receive a text: "Hey, sorry again 4 last eve. Ive no excuse. C u!" Good riddance, I thought. The next day, another text: "So, u want to go 4 brouchettes 2nite?" They don't give up easily.
I found essential words like "kiss," "sex" and "condom," were left out of my French education. I've always held that it is best to be explicit when discussing where a relationship is going, but this proves difficult when basic vocabulary is lacking. It is relatively easy to demonstrate physically what you want, but when you want to set barriers, this becomes a problem.
Forming a romantic relationship with a Madagascar native is an excellent method of cross-cultural exchange, but problems arise when expectations differ between cultures. In Madagascar, simply giving someone your number implies much more than in the U.S. Couples are likely to get hitched after dating for only several months. A friend of mine who found a boyfriend in Senegal last year is already married to him.
Besides difficulties in communication and expectations, there are always lingering doubts about the motives of one's romantic interest. For many men in less developed countries like Senegal and Madagascar, marrying an American woman and moving to the United States is perceived as an escape from a hard life in their native country. Many men have told me that we would be good together because the mixture of my white skin and their dark skin would produce beautiful babies. They didn't realize that harboring a parasite in my uterus for nine months is my greatest fear.
For many of us holding on to a love an ocean away, the distance proves fatal. Every problem is magnified by the extra stress of adapting to a new culture. Time differences and technological challenges can make a simple phone call an ordeal. Long-term physical separation makes dalliances more tempting. Relationships that survive require patience, understanding and forbearance. When I was in Senegal, I watched as my friends' relationships fell apart like so many leaves to be picked up by a charming native. In Madagascar, my friends have so far hung on to their beaus back home.
You can reach this columnist at thescene@theeagleonline.com.
