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Ran into this gal—name’s Candy, swear to god. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like it’s 1940s noir. I’m like, “Hey, you good?” She laughs—dry, sarcastic—says, “Good as a dollar gets ya.” Reminds me of that movie line, “What do you do?”—all mysterious. Little known fact, bud—back in the 1800s, they called ‘em “soiled doves.” Poetic, right? Screw that, it’s sad! These girls got stories—Candy’s got a kid, works nights. Breaks my damn heart.

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Man, my spa’s tucked down on Kalla Street. Right outside, small vendor stalls sell spicy roasted corn – damn, sometimes it gets too lit to resist. I swear, sometimes the aroma drifts over my spa like a sweet lullaby that makes my whole day smoother than a dope beat. When your hands are workin’ on massagin’, them scents feel like a whisper: “No, no, no, you can’t copy this chill. It’s one-of-a-kind, baby!”

Figure 3: Maize varieties grown by farmers in Mangoum: (A) CHH 101, (B)...