Part 2 (Dezyèm): MISEDUCATION
Missionaries
“Whatever happened to those missionaries that disappeared last week?”, Kevin asks. “I can’t believe we didn’t have any rounds come through the house.” Tim interrupts him, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t stand up on the roof when people are shooting at each other!” Kevin gives him a “fair point” facial expression, before continuing, “That firefight went on for hours! Was it connected to the Americans disappearing?” Tim doesn’t respond, as he is gesturing emphatically at a police officer/soldier in combat gear and an Uzi. The armed man finally notices Tim’s press pass, and let’s them past the impromptu tolling station that just materialized in front of the blan Isuzu.
As they start moving again, Tim doesn’t respond so Kevin continues, “I mean, I get that the zenglando are basically just the next version of Macoute, but why do so many of these awful dechokaj events seem to target either the Catholic hierarchy or old-school American missionaries? You’ve been explaining that the only safe way to preach the gospel is by avoiding politics. Then why have so many Christians been caught up in this political conflict?”
Finally, Tim sighs and replies, “Kevin, no offense, but you don’t have enough Creole to understand what you’re hearing on the radio. I don’t know what you think you’re learning from the newspapers, you can barely read French. Of course…” Tim swerves to avoid a man pulling a wooden cart full of barrels out of an alley. “Of course it’s messy. Voodoo, Kevin. Demonic powers. This is spiritual warfare. We’ve been saying this for years, so of course they’re coming after the missionaries. This country deserves all its suffering until they let go of their superstitions, reject communism, and accept help from the US! And yeah, the Lavalas mobs went after the Archbishop. The Vatican is all that remains between Haiti and total anarchy!”
Kevin lights a cigarette and replies, “Well, that, the CIA and whatever else the US embassy is cooking up.”. Tim jerks in his seat and glances sharply at Kevin, then makes a show of waving away the cigarette smoke. Kevin continues, “Of course Haitian Catholicism absorbed some African folk spirituality into its Saints and Holidays. Doesn’t make it idolatry or whatever.” Tim suddenly jolts upright, “Are you trying to defend voodoo?!” Kevin sighs, “I’m not defending anything. I’m saying, it doesn’t seem that different than Christmas being in December with a Yule log and lots of fir trees. That’s not in the Bible either.” Still no response from Tim, so Kevin pushes more, “Those leftists you’re worried about? Are those the same that are running the Mother Teresa orphanage down the street from your house? Or the Fathers who are reminding everyone that Jesus was a brown-skinned, poor refugee, too?”
Now Tim pulls the Isuzu abruptly to the side of the road, angrily pulls the emergency brake, and turns his body toward Kevin. “You read a lot of books back home. Met a lot of exiles in DC.” He leans in, so close now that Kevin can smell the street-pork that Tim ate at the market. “You might think it’s all fun and games, but your name has already found its way to the Embassy. Your leftist church may think human rights are more important than law and order, but those of us who have been here more than a minute, no better.” He takes the cigarette from Kevin’s hand and throws it past his face out the passenger window before continuing, “This is a godforsaken place. Until Haiti bends the knee to God Almighty, they get all that they deserve. And you will too, if you’re not careful.”
Kevin breaths out slowly and stares into Tim’s eyes. Neither blinking. And then both snap out of it at the same time. Kevin replies, “Look. Here’s the thing. I’m still here to help. You’re not the first “customer” to shoot the messenger because he didn’t like the message. I may not have Creole yet or understand what all these foreigners are doing down here, but I know bullshit when I step in it.”
As they pass a Kok Kalite mural with fighting rooster above the phrase, “Ansamn, Ansamn, nou se Lavalas!”. Kevin gestures toward it, “Like the sign says, ‘Together we’re the avalanche!’, but who gets washed away? Before I came down here, I was told to assume every priest is progressive and every pastor is conservative until proven otherwise.” Kevin gestures toward the Bible on the seat between them. “It’s been a while since we talked about anything in there but Paul’s letters. Well, I was taught that the Bible may or may not be infallible, but you better not try to use it against the poor.”
Tim slowly restarts the Isuzu and gets back on the road. “I think it’s best we table this for now. It’s been a long day and you need to get back to your language classes. That’s still a condition of you getting access to any of the station’s vehicles. You can keep using the Yamaha for back/forth to wherever you go. I just don’t want to know about it.” He looks over at Kevin, “Kompran?” Kevin replies, “Tout sanble.”
They pull up to Tim’s gate, just as all the lights go out in his house. The gate opens to the sound of Tim’s wife and daughters, wailing that their TV/DVD just shut off. Kevin looks Tim in the eye and says, “I’m going to let you handle those batteries. It’s been a long day, and I need to practice my Creole phrases before my lesson tomorrow.”