Actually, it was just a pleasant evening, sitting on the grass (grass!) idly chatting, drinking beer, watching kids run around. There was tug-of-war and three-legged races and pseudo hot dogs (bratwursts) and baked beans and potato salad that unfortunately I ordered before realizing it was contaminated by hard-boiled eggs, ick. The American Club is in a compound near the new bridge, a pretty place but surrounded by cement walls - as always in such places, I find myself wondering what the non-US people working in/around think of it. (If they spare it any thought at all - perhaps I am succumbing to - not egocentricity, patriecentricity? Something like that.)
Afterwards went searching for kora music - didn't find any, but did find superlative alloco, aka plantaines frites. Clearly made with properly ripe plantains, the slices were crunchily caramelized on the outside and lusciously soft on the inside - exquisite with piment and some mustard.
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