Part 3: REBELLION
Networks
Delmas Highway
Kevin opens the camper shell and heaves his footlocker up into the truck’s bed. He walks to the passenger side with his backpack and climbs in. A young Haitian woman slides across to the middle of the bench seat to make room. She’s holding a notebook and large Algebra textbook in her lap. Kevin says to her, “Komo o ye? Mwen se Kevin.” Her mouth twitches into a smile and she replies in perfect English, “Hi Kevin, my name is Jocelyn. How are you?” Kevin’s eyebrows jump in surprise before he starts to laughs, “Your English is perfect! I’ll stop torturing you with my horrible Creole!” Jocelyn raises an eyebrow before replying with a smile, “It’s not so bad.” Ashley tries to stifle a chuckle and they all laugh together.
Jocelyn returns to the formulas in her notebook as Ashley backs the rig into an impossible three-point turn. She avoids a few street urchins who go to great lengths to pantomime how close they came to death due to her reckless driving. In response, Ashley rolls down the window and starts bantering with them in rapid Creole that Kevin can’t quite follow. But before long, everyone is laughing and the kids are in the truck bed and on top of the camper shell. They shout and wave at surprised pedestrians who can’t quite fit together what they’re seeing. Ashley casually maneuvers the over-sized truck through the scrum and onto Delmas, holding a stately pace as she drives her traveling circus down the mountain toward the Big Top.
When they’re merged with traffic Ashley asks, “So, did they fire you for thought crimes?” Kevin chuckles, “Kind of difficult, when they don’t pay me in the first place.” Ashley snaps back, “Colonizers. Am I right?!” They roar in laughter as the Haitian kids lean in the little window between camper shell and driver cab to see what’s going on. Jocelyn smiles at the joke but continues working in her notebook. Ashley points at Kevin and says something like “gro neg” and “kay” and the laughter erupts again. Kevin laughs along, sprinkling in a few Creole phrases in an exaggerated cowboy drawl.
Ashley catches her breath from laughing, closes the window to the kids in the truck bed, and gives Jocelyn a soft nudge. She flashes a quick hand signal to Jocelyn and then points at Kevin. Kevin looks away but watches from the corner of his eye as Jocelyn gives a quick nod in response. Ashley asks Kevin, “OK, seriously. What’s your play here? You’re welcome to crash at our guest house but that’s not a long-term plan.” Kevin exhales slowly, “What did I step into here? It’s escalated much faster than expected… I’m amazed our mutual friends received that coded message I sent over open air, and got you here on time!” Ashley laughs, “I think you’re referring to MY friends but you might make the team!” Kevin chuckles, “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I was voted off an island.” He thinks for a moment more, then sits up a it straighter in his seat. “How about this? Drop me off at Mother Mary’s guest house near the Cathedral. I’ll stow my stuff, explain the situation to the priests, then make my way to Miragoane by tap-tap and find your place. Can’t be that difficult to find a house full of blan!”
As she wedges the Toyota into the left-turn lane, Ashley is quiet until the horns stop blaring. “Not a bad plan. When you get to Miragoane, just go to the police / Telco station and ask where the blan live. They all know!” She glances over at Kevin, “But you’re going to get out there by tap-tap, with your Creole?!” Just then, a garishly decorated camion nearly takes off the driver-side mirror. Kevin shifts in his seat nervously, “Well, OK, good point. But I can read a map. From downtown Port-au-Prince, it’s just due west through Carrefour. Worst case, I can hand-signal my way there but really? Show up at the police station and hope for the best? I barely survived watching “Do The Right Thing” at the Cinema last week. Even though the crowd couldn’t read the French subtitles, they understood enough English to get the point. I stuck out like some sort of mal leve!”
Ashley grins, “OK, settle down. It’s Miragoane, not Port-au-Prince. Our police are basically just a local club or fraternity. They don’t care what anyone does as long as it doesn’t interfere with the cartel trade. Our port is only built for fishing boats.” She makes air quotes, “The Government of Haiti ignores the whole Southern province unless there’s an uprising. But no plans for that right now!” They grin and spontaneously sing as if in a choir, “Because THAT would be wrong!”, then laugh uncontrollably for a few seconds. Ashley continues, “How about one tweak. I drop you in the vicinity of the Cathedral and then forget where that Mother Mary safe house is. Then I have plausible deniability. How do I know what you did after I dropped you off? I assumed you were going to get some Dominican fried chicken.”
Kevin smiles, “I read all the LeCarre novels and World War 2 resistance manuals. What were you reading?!” Without skipping a beat Ashley replies, “Banned books of course!” Kevin breaks into a huge grin, “You mean like 1984, Politics of Jesus, and War Against the Poor?!” With a sly grin Ashley replies, “Sure. That’s a good start. Plus some Chomsky and Sun Tzu. But if you connect with those liberation theology base communities? Get some real language fluency and some useful skills from those guys? You’ll be in the REAL game!”
Ashley pulls the Land Cruiser to a stop in front of the gleaming National Cathedral. Kevin steps out of the truck with his backpack while the gaggle of street kids clamor down from the pickup bed. They’re joined by another swarm of kids from the Cathedral Park. There’s a bit of shouting and turf-explaining until everyone decides to see if the blan will hand over some cash. Ashley’s way ahead of this game. She’s already pulling away from the scene as Kevin is surrounded by a sea of dirty faces asking for ti kob. But Kevin has one good Creole phrase that never fails. It acknowledges the kids but also sets a fair boundary. He can’t pretend that he CANNOT help because of course he could. But neither can he help all of them. “M pa gen anye pou ou.” Delivered correctly, it stops any further discussion. Then he begins dragging his footlocker up the hill toward Mother Mary’s safe house.