Umbrellas from the British School of Lomé dry in the courtyard.

The morning began with a terrific thunderstorm which stopped around 8:45. I shared breakfast with the Copes before James went to work. Charlotta was feeling sick and stayed home today. She suspected her illness came from unfiltered water she recently drank at work.
    At 10:30, Brian and I went to see James teach his geography class at the British School of Lomé. The boarding school is for African students who are preparing for university in North America or Britain. His class had 14 students — 5 girls and 9 boys — from all over Africa and North America (including 1 Canadian and a 1/2 American). The students were working on maps showing population density. When we arrived, they were charming and asked questions about Chicago. Do the Chicago Red Sox play there? (It's the White Sox.) Is so-and-so still playing for the Bulls? Who won the homerun race — Mark McGuire or Sammy Sosa?
    The children were incredulous that Brian and I chose Lomé for our vacation. One boy said, "You came here for vacation? You have made a great mistake!"

Back to the Market
Brian and I dared to go back to the market, this time for sandals and crafts. We stepped out of our taxi and sat next to the Hôtel Palm Beach when a throng of children and men approached us. Toys and bicycles made from wire and aluminum cans were thrust into our faces. A boy showed me the soda can cut his arm, a wound for art. We soon bought ourselves a bicycle, an auto, and a motorcycle.
    Merchant Tossoli Manasse introduced himself and tried to be our personal shopper. After buying some necklaces from Tossoli and his little brother Dit Marcelin, Brian and I extracted ourselves and set out to le Rue des Artisans
    We located the alley with the artisans and made a note to return after we found sandals. The largest sandal selection could be found across from the Cathedral. Barboza Messanh popped up again. He said that he looked for us every day at the market! I caused a near riot simply by expressing interest in sandals. Six men "helped" me choose a pair. I eventually found a black pair that I liked and I had to bargain vigorously for a fair price.
    Why was there so much desperation and ferocity at the market? Charlotta says that Togo used to be a hot vacation spot in the 80's. Artisans used to do very well selling to eager tourists. Political unrest has made the country less attractive and tourism is almost non-existant. Charlie says most Africans in Togo do not buy African crafts; the artisans absolutely rely on tourists.
    We felt marked. For a merchant who hasn't sold anything days, one has to strike while the iron is hot.

la Rue des Artisans
We returned to le Rue des Artisans, an alley off la Rue de Commerce. We were amazed by how peaceful it was, compared to the frantic main market. One doesn't simply march through the alley; there are no crowds so everyone can see YOU and you must greet them! Bonjour. . .bonjour. . .bonjour! I bought a bright, cheerful appliqué supposedly from Benin. It was actually from China. (That's a panda!) Word must have spread; before you knew it, Tossoli Manasse popped up again, this time with some authentic Beninoise appliqué.
    Shopping in the alley was an in-your-face kind of customer service. As soon as you were seen buying, let's say, a green elephant, everyone starts hawking green elephants. I observed that every merchant knew what the other was selling. "Si vous voulez un bracelet en cuir ou en cuivre, je les cherches!" ("If you want a leather or brass bracelet, I'll find them!") And they do.
    We stopped to chat with Ismaïla Fousseni, one of the young merchants in the alley. While we spoke, he casually played with a pair of telena, a simple percussion instrument made of large nuts connected by a string with sand inside to make sound. Ismaïla and his friends got a kick out of teaching Brian how to play. Brian bought a couple; they were irresistable objects.
    While Brian was taking his telena lesson, Ismaïla flirted and asked if I was happy with my husband. I didn't understand him at first and he laughed and laughed until I got his meaning. Oh yes! Very, very happy thank you!
    A man asked me if I was Canadian or American. I said Canadians loathe being confused for U.S. citizens. He responded, "But aren't you all Americanos?"

Evening
Robert the mechanic temporarily dropped off the Copes' newly painted car. The old Toyota Tercel was now bright red! Although the car was not quite finished, Robert left the car so that the Copes could go grocery shopping that night. He would pick up the car tomorrow.
    I know the freedom of having a car. Back home, it means you can buy milk and 50 lbs of cat litter on the same day. For the Copes, having the car means buying crate after crate of Coke, Sport Actif, and beer. All absolutely essential.
    Brian and James ended the evening with a viewing of a best-of-cricket video. by the time Brian came to bed, I think he actually understood the game! •