The Unanswered Question

As a single woman in her late-twenties I am often faced with the challenge of graciously answering a very stupid question. (Ok fine, I'm thirty. I mean "late-twenties" in the same way you might say "late-husband".)

Now, I'm a teacher, and like most teachers I have been known to say "there are no stupid questions". But there is an exception. I teach mainly adults, and I use that term loosely. Many of my students are teenagers, or in their early twenties. I have long suspected this period of maturity to be akin to toddlerhood. Most are still bottle-fed, over-indulged, whiny cry-babies, and in my line of work I get the broken sentences and sparse vocabulary to boot!.

Most of the students I have come from varying degrees of traditional cultures. In most of these cultures a thirty year old woman that's not yet married, engaged, or widowed is often viewed with varying degrees of curiosity, pity, or suspicion. The problematic question arises when students (or children), unaware of cultural taboo feels that my love-life (or lack thereof) is as easy for me to explain to them as grammar or pronunciation patterns.

So when a young, newlywed student, or honest-to-god toddler asks me "Teacher/G, why you no marry?" I have an appropriately flippant response prepared.

"Ahmed (or Mohamed, or Jin Su, or Juan, or little Johnny)," I say calmly "I'm not married because I have no room in my apartment to keep a husband." (If this question is posed by a real toddler, the topic is usually dropped. It makes as much sense as when their mommy tells them they can't have a pet elephant because there simply isn't enough room for one. )

But Ahmed (who may just have a pet elephant or two back home in Saudi Arabia for all I know) says "But teacher, you marry man. Coming to apartment new, big!"

"But Ahmed, I like my small apartment. Men are dirty like elephants." Ahmed thinks about this for a moment. Something doesn't make sense to him.

"Teacher, you have brother? Father?"

"Yes, Ahmed"

"Teacher, they are dirty?"

"I don't live with my father or brother, Ahmed. They live far away." The gears turn audibly.

"Teacher!" Ahmed is desperately trying to make sense of this strange culture where single women are permitted to roam free. "You no live with you father? Only you?"

"Yes, Ahmed. I like it."

"But teacher, you marry to husband you no work. You go shopping."

"But Ahmed, I don't need a husband if I work. "

"But children teacher! You must marry for children!"

"I don't want children." I tell him honestly. "I don't need a husband." This is where it all makes sense. Teacher doesn't want children. Teacher can be single. Teacher will go to hell for all eternity, but teacher does not need a husband. Poor silly western woman all alone in her tiny apartment.

The reason this question bothers me is not really because its so personal but because it really never has a sufficient answer. In traditional cultures, my preference to live childless is suffient reason to not have a husband. But in the west, this is no reason to live solo. Everyone expects to meet that perfect someone that will share the same goals and dreams and help you pay the rent, children or no. The question gets worse when its asked by a kid who doesn't stop at "no room in the inn", and is aware that culturally everyone is looking for their soulmate. Inevitably the real question arises.

"What's wrong with you?"

And I inevitably answer it just as flippantly with "I'm too tall. I'm afraid I will trip over him."

Which really, if I answered honestly, is not too far from the truth.

G.