As I rounded the corner, I saw an oasis of girls gliding down the lane. They were an African postcard image, 4 girls, different heights but all long and thin carrying a variety of bowls, bags and baskets on their heads. They were young and wearing dusty clothes with shiny smiles which only seemed to grow as the road between us shortened.
The sandy path we shared didn't allow for much more than 2 people to pass. As they shifted into single file, one of the girls looked up at me, her smile growing so wide and so bright I began to wonder if I had something on my face. I'd come from painting and had washed my hands well, but I hadn't even looked in the mirror. They greeted me with choruses of "Bonjour Tantie" and just as I was imagining streaks of blue and orange running jagged across my chin, the little girl with a smile that made her eyes dance exploded into giggles. "Tu est jolie-deh," she said, clearly unable to keep her thoughts inside.
The group moved past quickly, talking and laughing among themselves. I didn't even get a chance to say I'd been thinking the same thing about them.
