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February 2nd 2006 I feel like I can better describe my home to you now.
Home turf starts, after a long trip’s end and the deposition of myself from the taxi, at the carre-four between the goudron to Lokossa and the terre-rouge to Athieme. I am greeted by about ten zemidjan men, with twenty more on reserve, who all say, “Bon Arrivee!”
“Merci!”
“Athieme, non?”
“Oui, Athieme. 200F.”
“Non, Ma
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