The word heard most here means absence: sodade. There are more Cape Verdeans outside than in, and Cesária Évora sang it barefoot. Ten islands, nine inhabited. No two alike: Sal flattens into sand, Santo Antão raises its cane ribeiras, on Fogo the vines are planted in lava. Cachupa for breakfast, grogue at any hour, morna to close. And here sorrow is danced in pairs.
