Saturday, I traveled to the village of Kumba to see a traditional African wedding with my neighbor Felix and a group of Peace Corp friends. We piled under a white canopy at nightfall wearing our bright African garbs.

The father of the groom was a smiling, bouncing, hand-shaking ball of pride. He entered the canopy like a heavy breeze with a laugh that took over his entire body and bounced off his bulging belly. The groom was...in Sweden. Turns out he had a soccer game and could not com...