Carrefour
Kevin begins to spend more of his time at the AM station in Carrefour. The area is growing rapidly as Haitians migrate into the Port-au-Prince urban sprawl. Economic conditions and Macoute attacks have driven farmers and laborers out of the provinces. The population of Carrefour was a crucial part of President Aristide’s election victory. But there were irregularities during the ballot counts and a run-off election is needed for a few down-ballot races. While Protestant Radio doesn’t allow political ads on air, they made the station available as a polling place during the general election.
One day while Kevin is working with a Haitian technician named Jè, there’s a commotion in the studio’s office area. They decide to see what’s going on. When they enter the office area, Kevin sees a handful of Haitians in the hallway negotiating with Tim. The lead negotiator is a young Haitian woman, who has excellent English and is speaking calmly and firmly. Kevin can’t hear everything she’s saying because Tim is raising his voice, “I’m sorry Ms. Baptiste, we made the station available for the general election only. It’s just not possible to open the station for another weekend. We don’t have enough staff on hand.” Ms. Baptiste looks 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 Ms. Baptiste confers with the group of Haitians. 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, Ms. Baptiste 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. Ms. Baptiste continues, “We’re not representing any candidate. But we are working with the international community to make sure there are observers for the run-offs.” She 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’s not 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 replies, “If we need to get the lawyers involved, we can, but that won’t be until next week. I don’t know what else to say. I can’t open the station to the public this weekend without staff to make sure our equipment doesn’t disappear.” Kevin glances at Jè, who’s been listening carefully to Tim. Jè just rolls his eyes at Kevin and shrugs. Since the conversation seems to be at a stalemate, Kevin clears his throat, “I could be at the station this weekend to make sure nothing disappears.” Ms. Baptiste’s mouth shows a brief smile before she regains her composure and turns to Tim, “Sounds like we might have a solution.” Tim stares at Kevin, his face showing irritation, “Fine. But Kevin, I’m holding you accountable if anything disappears. And keep everyone out of my office!”.
On run-off election day, Ms. Baptiste arrives to make sure the polling place is open. She’s not allowed inside without an observer, so Kevin walks her inside to meet 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, Gustavo. They share stories and laugh about some jokes he’s told them both.
While Kevin expected his presence to be a formality, he does need to perform his actual role as election observer. About halfway through the day, poll workers are swapping full ballot boxes for empty new ones when a worker finds that a new “empty” box is already filled with completed ballots. Kevin watches the workers call over the election judge, remove the fraudulent ballots, and fan them out across the floor. Kevin photographs them before the ballots are gathered and locked in a briefcase by the election judge. The election judge attaches a seal across the briefcase. The judge, poll workers sign as local Haitian witnesses and Kevin signs as official international observer. 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
It’s getting late in the afternoon. The tropical sun and ever-present dust cast a soft glow across the kitchen. Kevin is preparing a pot of coffee, while Nadine finishes the evening meal of rice, beans, and a delicious sauce. Kevin asks her, “What’s the recipe for that sauce?” Nadine chuckles, “Nice try. I’m not sharing that with you!”. Kevin laughs, “Well, it was worth another try. But I promise, I’d keep it a secret, just like your coffee technique!” They’re laughing as Martha joins them, “Nadine, shouldn’t you be on your way to pick up your kids? I’ll finish up here so you can get them before dark.” Nadine thanks Martha, gathers her things, and says to Kevin, “Don’t leave a mess in my kitchen after you’re finished with that coffee.” Kevin grins and walks her to the door, where he says quietly, “Thanks for everything. Take care of yourself!” Nadine looks at him with curiosity, “Going somewhere?” Kevin smiles, “It’s always possible!”
After Nadine leaves, Kevin returns to the kitchen and asks, “When does Nadine get to spend time with her family? Seems like she’s always here.” Martha pauses before replying carefully, “Nadine knows her kids are safe at school while she’s working, which is more than most Haitian mothers can say.” Kevin replies quickly, “I didn’t mean it as a criticism. I know the Mission provides a good education for the local kids. I guess it just seems unfair that Nadine has to make so many sacrifices to educate her children.” Martha looks at Kevin with a small smile, “There you go again… You’re right though. It’s not fair that Haiti doesn’t have a public education system. I can’t change that, but I do what I can to help Nadine. My priority is the safety of this family. I can’t solve Haiti’s problems but God helps those who help themselves.”
Kevin nods his head slowly, “I see your point…” Tim calls to Kevin from the front porch, “Where’s that coffee? Let’s finish this up!” Martha’s face breaks into a smile, “Sounds like you have some work to do out there.” Kevin joins Tim on the porch, pours coffee into their cups, and adds some condensed milk to his own. Tim takes a sip, wipes his mustache, and continues their conversation. “I really need you out in Ceyes next week to get your blessing from local leadership. Then you can 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, “I would have sent you up there already except you won’t get halfway without security and Haitian muscle. Which I can’t get until you fix this mess between the local board and your NGO.”
Again, the careful pause, the almost eye contact, then straightening his back, Tim begins to speak very forcefully, jabbing the air with his pen for emphasis, “Frankly, I’m beginning to question both the motivation and ability of all involved!”. He quickly looks over his shoulder toward the living room where his daughters are practicing piano and violin. Then he lowers his voice to a more conversational tone, “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. 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 porch table. “I’m not sure we are. I wish our boards would have sorted our their mission statements before I arrived. You have me locked down here in Delmas, surrounded by Americans who can’t speak Creole and are afraid to go 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 the station staff, 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 Mission Church when I can hitch a ride there and back.” Then very softly, Kevin adds “I might have been born at night, but not last night. If you think this is the first time I’ve been setup to fail, you didn’t read my file. 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 come true.”