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| Untitled ~ acrylic on paper |
I taught a class for a while in the community for elderly refugee immigrants from East Africa. I called it 'Eating Healthy in America", which I knew was kind of an oxymoron. I had interpreters in two languages: Somali and Oromo. We were making a couscous dish on the stove top with fresh ginger and sweet potatoes, and we began to taste test our concoction. The room lit up in approval of the dish, and, one of the men (the class was drawing about 19 men and 1 woman at that time) liked it so much that he asked me to marry him! I told him, "Ah, sorry, I'm already married." More chatter; laughter. When I could get the interpreters to translate the joke, it was this: Another gentleman said, "Why do you want to marry the teacher when you've got a good wife at home?" His reply, "I want her to marry me and come to my house, and teach my wife how to be a better cook!"
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