One weekend in December, we were privileged to be invited by one of Kathy's co-workers to the celebration of her twentieth wedding anniversary. It began in the local Catholic church, where many of the women, or bo-'m'e (boh-MAY), wore traditional blankets, or linkhobo (deen-KHOH-boh, where the "kh" is pronounced as in khutzpah) and head scarves. There was also a great deal of singing, and even a procession of dancing around the church in which we all participated.
The party then moved to the happy couple's home, where tents had been erected and lavishly decorated for the occasion.
Songs were sung and speeches were given, including one by my wife. And much food was eaten. But for me, the highlight of the day came when I got to shake the hand of the man in the right hand side of this picture, which was taken from my seat (just so you know how close I was).
You see, that man is King Letsie III, the King of Lesotho. So now, thanks to Kathy, I have shaken hands with a king. This is incontrovertible evidence that marrying Kathy has made me much, much cooler than I was before.
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