What Wesley brings to the morning market
The market in Ambalavao is running from first light. By seven in the morning the stalls are already up and the smell of ripe fruit mingles with the charcoal from the cooking fires. Wesley shops fast. Fruit — mango when there is any, banana when there isn't —, bread, something salty. The regular vendor already knows what he wants and sets it aside before he arrives. Wesley pays the exact amount, no conversation, and walks toward the mairie with the shopping in one hand and the rigid folder under his arm.
What Wesley carries every day says a lot about how he thinks. Nothing is extra. Everything has a place and a reason. The rigid folder protects the files from dust and moisture on the way — in Ambalavao, the rainy season turns the unpaved streets to mud and documents need physical protection, not metaphorical. The pen is clipped to the folder. The goat-hair brush is inside the folder, wrapped in a cloth. And the paper tape goes in the coat pocket, because sometimes he needs to mark something before he reaches the office.
A tote bag handles that kind of load. It isn't a luxury bag — it's a bag that does the job. Sturdy cotton, reinforced seams, enough room for what you need to put in and take out during the day. Good for groceries? Yes. For books? Too. For a laptop? Depends on the size, but a thirteen-inch model with a sleeve fits.
