Ma Vie d'Amour

I was dating this one guy and it didn’t work out. . . and then I got a crush on this other guy but that didn’t work out, either . . . but man oh man, would you look at me now!

#1:

Summer 2013, ESL Registration night, 6:30 p.m.: A group of five swaggering, laughing Iraqi 20somethings takes the English placement test. Three go to higher-level classes; two are put in Level 1, the class I teach. My co-teacher and I spend the semester alternately admiring our two students’ incredibly stylish, not-bought-in-America wardrobe and lamenting their lack of consistent attendance and concentration the days they are there. Three weeks into the semester, they both drop out, presumably to do better things with their time. Their Level 4-5-6 friends stay on throughout most of the semester, and we exchange pleasantries in the hallway for the rest of the term. That fall, none of them return to class.

Fast-forward to a Saturday night a year later. I’m at a Middle Eastern café in Raleigh with some friends, sitting at an outdoor table on the crowded patio, sipping cardamom tea and savoring a piece of delicious knafeh. I keep thinking the guy’s face at the table next to mine looks awfully familiar, but it takes another hour before I can place him: the Level 4 student from last year whose friends were in my class. Before I leave, I go over to say hello and ask about my old students (apparently they got married). We talk for a few minutes (a bit stilted: Level 4 is conversational but not natural), exchange telephone numbers (ostensibly so he could find out about the next ESL registration dates) and say good night.

Monday night my phone rings:

“Hello?”
“Hello! This is L. How are you?”

“Oh, hi. I’m ok. How are you?”
“Good, good. What are you doing?”

“I’m about to go to bed. What are you doing?”

“Going to work.”
“I’m sorry. Are you celebrating Ramadan this year?”

“What?”
“Ramadan.”

“Oh! You know Ramadan?!”

“Yes, I know many people who keep it.”

“Oh! Excellent. Jaimie, I have question for you. But I am shy.”

(Pause.)

“What?”
“Do you have boyfriend?”

(Silence. Thought composition.)

“Well, I don’t have a boyfriend, but there is this guy I’ve gone on some dates with . . . ”

“No boyfriend?”
“Not . . . really . . . ”

“I am looking for serious. I want marry. I like you. I want wife.” (Well, at least he doesn't beat around the bush.) 

“But you don’t know me. I don’t know you."

“But I saw you last year in school. You are good. I am good.”

“Oh. Well . . . um . . . I don’t think I want to get married this year. Also, I’m not Muslim.”

“No Muslim, no problem! Last week I talked to my mother. She said, I want American wife, no problem. Christian OK.”

“Um . . . ”

Luckily, he had to go to work then, so our conversation was cut short. Perhaps it will be postponed indefinitely.

#2:

All of my students have my phone number so they can call if they’re going to be late or absent. Last Thursday I talk with Jose, a 26-year old from Honduras.

“Teacher, I sorry, I working a lot. No class tonight.”

“That’s OK. I’ll see you Monday. Good night!”

“Wait, teacher!” (switch to Spanish) “What are you doing on Friday night?”

(!?)

“I have plans.”

“And Saturday?”
“I'm sorry, Jose, we are not going to go on a date. I’ll see you on Monday." 

He calls again on Saturday.

“What are you doing?”
“About to go out with some friends.”

“Oh, OK. You like dancing?”

“I haven’t gone out dancing in four or five years . . . ”

“Let's go!”

“Sorry. . . ”

Next time he calls, I guess I just shouldn’t pick up the phone.

#3:

Would I really write something serious?!