She Said Yes!

Overlooking a waterfall in the Drakensberg Mountains, I asked Lea to be my wife.

As every 24 year old male knows, there is a conspiracy afoot amongst all married people. Whether their only intention is to spread the good news of matrimony, I don’t know, but they are deft and relentless pushers of the and-two-become-one story.

In the course of three weeks before Lea and I left for Joburg I participated in one wedding and two of my best friends announced their engagements. Yet another fraternity brother announced the expected arrival of his first-born. They were laying it on thick.

I was mostly unfazed by their pressure, and only a little impatient. Months before we moved, I had a ring, bought and paid for on the sly. And I had plans to visit her parents for permission. I waited only for the right moment, after we had settled into this new place together. Best not to mix engagement pressure with culture shock, I thought.

As our loyal readers also know, it took me a while longer than expected to find a job here and make myself useful. In the meantime I was antsy and in no position to think happily about my future. Then a job came, things settled down, and I was able to live in Johannesburg as if it were my home and not some foreign city that I was visiting.

With the help of a friend, I planned a trip to the legendary Drakensberg Mountains. The mountain range is home to the important memories of more than a few cultures. The San people living there, whose millennium-old rock art is still visible in the mountains, were pushed out by other westward-moving African tribes. The Voortrekkers crossed the mountains on two separate occasions, fleeing British colonizers and African pressure.

In our four day stint, I was going to make those mountains the site of our own important memory.

When I awoke at 5:30 on the first morning of the trip I knew the time was right. I had intended to wait until the last day—to wear Lea down, perhaps—but looking out at the clear sky and the mystical scenery, it was clear to me that there would never be a better day than that one.

While Lea slept I packed a bag full of food and in-case-of-emergency items. Blankets, sandwiches, water and, in the side pocket, a small maroon box full of the ring I had confidently decided was perfect for my future wife.

She awoke and we headed off on the Canyon Trial—13km of soft-sloped green mountains, waterfalls, herd animals and thin mountain air. The first 2km were steep and we went slowly, choosing our steps. After that, the trail flattened and we turned our eyes up at the overwhelmingly beautiful background.

We walked on to arrive at the canyon. As promised, it was a cathedral-like hall of lichen-covered rock where the Lotheni River cut its way through the mountain. Across the canyon from where we stood, a small tributary stream tumbled over the edge in a magnificent waterfall. Before and behind us the mountain range spread out like the armored tail of an enormous green dragon. Together, we sat in the grass and ate the perfect lunch for such an occasion—peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

While we ate and rested I silently rehearsed my lines. Confidently, I asked Lea to sit on a rock nearby, kneeling in front of her seated figure.

 

When I looked into her eyes and spoke the first words of my proposal, we both fell apart. I lost my steely-eyed intentionality and communicated my feelings through the body language of intense familiarity, rather than the words I eventually spoke. Who knows exactly what I said? (She and I don’t.) What I practiced was this:

Lea, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.

I wouldn’t be here in South Africa if not for your brilliant intellect that got you the Fulbright, and your strong character that kept you out of the New York firms.

I wouldn’t be in this relationship if not for your taking some initiative and asking me out.

And I wouldn’t be the man I am today and am constantly becoming if not for your positive energy, encouragement and example.

Now it’s time for me to do something. I want to be your lover forever.

Lea, will you marry me?

Somewhere in there, I remember Lea saying to me, “Can I say yes yet?” She kindly waited until I was done talking and we had both caught our breath to tell me that, of course, she would be my wife. I slipped my ring onto her finger.

We took a few pictures together and celebrated our excitement in the vast solitude. I only wish our families could have stood across the canyon to witness the memorable moment.

We are both overjoyed and a little overwhelmed. Our love goes out to all of you who have influenced us and prepared us for this adventure. We are forever grateful.