The Foreign Service Journal, October 2013

38 OCTOBER 2013 | THE FOREIGN SERVICE JOURNAL After a decade’s absence, this past March I returned to the country where my African saga began 43 years ago. Ewé, was still good enough for basic conversation. Even a few words brought smiles to the faces of the people I greeted. In Kpalimé, I told one old man that I had lived 40 years before in Agu-Nyogbo, at the foot of Mount Agu. As we talked, I could tell he was a bit senile, but he said one thing that intrigued me: “I am happy you knew Togo when it was still sweet.” He repeated this many times in a sing-song fashion, “When Togo was still sweet.” I knew what he meant. There is still some sweetness in Togo, but this visit was mostly bittersweet for me. Too many things stop in Africa when the original owner dies. Almost all the old bars and hotels I’d known were gone; Hotel Concordia, where I’d once stayed in Kpalimé, was aban- doned and in ruins. I was told it had closed after the owner’s death 20 years ago. And the world-famous Kennedy Bar is now a lottery office. And one of my favorite places, Chez Henri—a general store, bar and restaurant—had also disappeared. Still, a few of my old haunts were still around, and I explored some new establishments, as well. Over lunch at a new restaurant named “Happy Yourself,” I reflected that happiness was exactly what I needed. Back in the 1970s I had taken the train from Agu-Gare to Lomé many times—always an exciting experience. Twenty years after the last train ran, the station in Agu-Gare now houses goats and the tracks have been overgrown by the bush. As far as I can tell, Togo has become one of the few countries in the world without any rail service. I saw more people than ever before struggling to survive in Agu-Gare. Farmers used small hoes and machetes to eke The old U.S. embassy building in Lomé, as it looks today.