Brian climbs for a coconut.

Sunday was another beach day. This time Priya Doshi joined the four of us on car trip east to Aneho, a small town that sits near the border of Togo and Benin.
    On our way to Aneho, we dropped by Auberge du Lac, a small resort on Lake Togo. It was peaceful and beautiful. The lake, however, was tepid and shallow. To swim, one merely pulled fist-fulls of mud at the lake's bottom. Not worth the effort.
    I sat with Priya while the others swam in the mud. Priya was fun to chat with: I found her lively and witty. It was easy to see why the Copes hold her so dear. Priya is an ethnic Indian born in Africa and British raised. Her tenure as French teacher at the British School of Lomé was ending soon and she was looking for another teaching position in Britian. I could empathize with her anxiety about her job search. Who likes to move to another continent without having secured a job?
    The beach at Aneho was shockingly beautiful. The water was the brilliant blue one only sees in ads for the Caribbean Islands. We dined on Priya's curry and avocado sandwhiches.
    Although the beach was empty of other tourists, local children never left us. First, there was the group of children who were "guarding" the car. Then there were three kids who hovered nearby our blanket on the beach.
    Brian decided to climb a short coconut tree. He took off his Teva sandals, scrambled up the tree, and knocked down a coconut. Brian paid one of the children to take the coconut to an adult who cut it with a machete. The water inside was musky and only desirable if there wasn't anything else to drink. Brian also paid for this escapade with scraped shins and feet which took forever to heal in the humidity.
    While the others napped, Brian and I walked around the cove and watched fishermen throw their nets. It looks like a very skilled and practiced gesture, honed through years of practice.
    Refreshed from naps and our walk, we drove down the street to the local pub for soft drinks. The atmosphere would have been nicer except the bar kept a monkey chained by its neck.

Artisans Revisit
When we returned to Lomé that afternoon, we were visited by two artisans. Earlier in the week we had ordered handpainted stationery from Nanfangue Hubert, the artist who painted the Copes' wedding invitations — over 100 of them. Hubert arrived on his arm-powered bicycle. Like other polio survivors we saw in Lomé, barrel-chested Hubert was mobile and independent, thanks to his ingenious 3-wheeled bicycle.
    I had fallen in love with the stationery pad he'd illuminated for Charlie. Each page had a unique illustration, painted in pure acryclic colors. Ever mindful of add-on sales, Hurbert brought additional cards and envelopes, which everyone bought.
    Mohammed Diko dropped by as well, on his way to visit another customer in Le Caisse. He showed us a giant box and jewelry case he was bringing his client — just in case we were interested! Today, he was nattily dressed in a black boubou with brilliant orange, blue, and yellow circles. People here are fearless about color!
    We ended the day with Scrabble. James won again, the pommy Brit. •