Carrefour
His orientation complete, Kevin is now splitting time between the FM station in Petionville and the main AM station and programming offices in Carrefour. The station’s reporting has confirmed that the January coup attempt was initiated by a group of Haitian generals, with the aim to prevent the elected Aristide government from ever getting into office. These generals disappeared after the dechokaj started and a provisional government has been installed to oversee the transition to Aristide’s inauguration next month.
Carrefour is growing rapidly as many Haitians from the provinces are forced into the Port-au-Prince urban sprawl. Haiti’s political conflict has disrupted the country’s fragile economic system, resulting in mass displacement and migration. Peasant and labor unions are targeted for political retribution by the old Duvalierist and Macoute death squads who are now operating with impunity. This displacement resulted in Carrefour being a crucial voting precinct, but there were many irregularities in the voting, which now require a run-off election. While Protestant Radio will not allow political ads on air, they did make the station available as a polling place in the previous general election.
One day while Kevin is working with a Haitian technician named Je, there is a commotion in the main studio office area. They decide to see what’s going on. When they enter the office area, Kevin sees a handful of Haitians arguing and negotiating with Tim. Tim is raising his voice and is speaking in English, “We agreed to have the station used for the general election only. It’s just not possible to open the station for another weekend. We only have a small team of weekend staff on hand.” The Haitians look at Tim silently for a long while, saying nothing. Finally, Tim continues, “I understand how important the run-off elections are and would love to help, but I just can’t see a way to do it.”
Kevin watches as the spokesman for the Haitians turns huddles up with the group. They all seem to be deferring to a man who’s standing toward the back of the group, dressed in olive colored fatigue pants, black boots, and dark green t-shirt. Their brief huddle complete, the spokesman turns back to Tim. Kevin notices the man in the green t-shirt step away from the group and slip outside before he can see his face clearly. The Haitian spokesman turns back to Tim, “We’re not representing any candidate, but are working with some Haitian pro-democracy groups in DC, to make sure there are election observers for any run-off elections.” He pulls out a bundle of documents and holds them so Tim can see, “The agreement you made with the Government of Haiti states that your station will be available for the general election AND run-offs. I understand it’s inconvenient, but it isn’t optional. If you don’t make the station available, someone will need to explain that and since you signed the agreement, that’s you.”
Tim doesn’t reply to this but says, “Well, if we need to get the Station lawyer involved, we can, but that won’t be until next week. I don’t know what else to say. I can’t just open the station to the public this weekend, without staff to make sure all our equipment doesn’t disappear.” Since the conversation seems to be at a stalemate, Kevin clears his throat and quietly says, “I could be here at the station this weekend to open/close and make sure nothing disappears.” The Haitian man’s mouth shows a brief smile, before he regains his composure and turns to Tim, “Sounds like we might have a solution.” Tim stares at Kevin, his face showing irritation and says, “Fine. But Kevin, I’m holding you accountable if anything disappears. And keep everyone out of my office!”.
On run-off election day, the DC group’s spokesman arrives to make sure the polling place is open. Since he’s not allowed to go inside the polling place without an observer, Kevin takes him inside and meets a few Haitian poll watchers. Everyone is focused on their work, so there’s not much time for small talk. But during a break, Kevin learns that one of the poll workers is related to his pirate radio friend, Gustave. While he expected his presence to be a formality, Kevin ends up having to actually be an observer. About halfway through the day, poll workers are swapping full ballot boxes for empty new ones, when workers find one of the ballot boxes is already filled with completed ballots. They remove the ballots and Kevin photographs them, before the ballots are gathered and locked in a briefcase by the official in charge of the polling place. Kevin reports this all to Tim the next week. But Tim’s only response is, “It’s all as waste of time. These people will never understand democracy as anything but a tribal conflict.”
Tim’s House, Delmas
It’s getting late in the afternoon, the tropical sun and ever-present dust cast a soft glow in the screened in porch where Tim and Kevin are enjoying a pot of French-roasted Haitian coffee (beans roasted and ground by Joel the Cook just this morning) mixed with thick, sweet, condensed milk.
Kevin leans in a bit as Tim wipes his mustache and continues, “So we really need you out in Cayes next week, so you can get your “blessing” from local leadership and get that noise silenced. Then get some real work done up on Mount Boeffe.” Tim pauses just long enough to see if Kevin will reply, but with no reaction continues, his voice rising slightly. “I would have sent you up there first, except you won’t get halfway there without security and Haitian muscle. Which I can’t get you, until you clean up this dustup between the local pastors and your NGO.”
Again, the careful pause, the almost eye contact, then straightening his back, begins to speak very forcefully, jabbing the air with his pen for emphasis, “Frankly, I’m beginning to question both motivation and ability of all involved!”. He quickly looks over his shoulder toward the living room where his daughters are practicing piano and violin, and lowers his voice to a more conversational tone, “But I know you’re a good guy. My kids like you.” Tim takes an almost fatherly tone, “But you are walking a dangerous line and need to decide who you serve. I need team players, not divas. Are we clear?”
Very slowly, as if taking care not to spill a drop of coffee from the empty cup, Kevin places the delicate, china cup and saucer onto the teak patio table. “I’m not sure we are. Clearly, our Boards should have sorted out their mission statements before I got here. You have me locked down here in Delmas, surrounded by Americans who can’t speak Creole and are afraid to venture downtown. Now you ask why I haven’t already gone out to the provinces to negotiate my way out of the crisis you created when you censored my mail and shared a bunch of out-of-context notes with the pastors.”
Kevin leans back, and carefully exhales, allowing some of the intensity to bleed from his voice. “The only social contact I have is with staff at the radio station in Carrefour, who only want to improve their English. Or whoever is in the car during the two-hour commute back and forth each day, or whoever is at the Delmas Church when I can hitch a ride there and back.”
Then very softly, so that Tim needs to lean in a bit toward Kevin to hear him, “I might have been born at night, but not last night. If you think this is the first time someone has set me up with no option but to fail, you didn’t read my file closely enough. You brought up your daughters. NOT me. But since we’re on that topic, I can’t imagine what you think is going to happen to them, if all your dire predictions about Aristide’s communist hordes play out as you imagine.”