Mother Mary of Our Eternal Peace
Since he’s arrived after 3 pm, Kevin is given a small cubicle with cot and wash basin for the night. Aside from a chair, table and ash tray, not a lot else. But in a safe place with God’s angels watching over him, Kevin sleeps like a baby. The next morning, Kevin joins the priests, nuns, and brothers/sisters for a cup of coffee and communal smoke. Kevin is carrying a tray of coffee mugs into the kitchen when an older Haitian priest steps into the dining area. His hair is cut close to his scalp and his short beard is flecked with gray. The priest scans the room until he sees Kevin and walks toward him with a smile. Kevin’s face brightens when he sees the priest, “Oh, oh! Father Vitor! I thought you were andeyo!”. One of the Haitian sisters smiles and takes away the tray while the two men embrace.
With a slap on Kevin’s back, Father Vitor breaks the embrace, “Glad to see Ashley got you here last night. She has a rare ability to gather wayward blan.” Kevin laughs and replies, “Well, thanks for connecting the dots for me. All this time, I thought Ashley was Gustavo’s tape recording source. But you’ve been pulling strings all the way to DC this whole time!” They laugh together while Fr. Vitor helps Kevin carry his footlocker and backpack upstairs to a large bunk room and shared living space. After inventorying his footlocker’s contents with the priest, Kevin receives a little ticket and his foot locker is safely secured.
Then Father Vitor asks Kevin, “Is there anything sensitive about your situation? Anything that could cause scrutiny by the authorities?” Kevin pauses and then replies that he can’t think of anything new. Then Fr. Vitor asks, “What about the Americans at the radio station. You’re quite exposed if you stay there. Are you sure it’s safe? The base communities could use your technical skills to get their radio network online. Maybe it’s time to get out from under those pastors.” Kevin looks thoughtful and then replies, “I think it’s worth the calculated risk. The station board can’t walk back those thank you letters from the Generals and US agencies. I’ve closed that whole discussion with the American station manager. He can explain his programming decisions to the Haitian pastors and I’ll stay focused on the transmitter outage. That’s all they really care about and it’s what I’m supposed to be doing down here anyway.” Father Vitor bursts into laughter, “You’ve already taken enough liberties with the station and your NGO!” Kevin laughs along, “Right?! Who knew it would be a bad idea to let me off my leash?” He pauses before continuing, “How about if we try both? I stay in my current role as necessary evil at the station but use my exile in the provinces to get connected with a base community in the south. Isn’t there one near Miragoane?”
Father Vitor takes a cigarette from Kevin’s pack on the table and chuckles. “I can’t believe you smoke these local things!” But he lights up anyway as Kevin shrugs, “It’s not a matter of taste. I just can’t afford to pay ten times as much for stale Marlboros.” Fr Vitor takes a deep drag and slowly exhales into the ceiling fan. “I like it. You’re hiding in plain sight and don’t worry; you won’t need to kiss the ring of those right-wing pastors in Cayes. We can get your gear up and down the mountain without their help. Maybe you can add a solar powered repeater for the base community at no cost to anyone.” Kevin’s face shows visible relief as he replies, “Honestly, the wrong people would follow me to the community right now. But if you give me a contact, I’ll stop by sometime when no one expects me anywhere else. I’m not leaving the country or going into hiding. But I definitely need some cover while I get myself settled and connected in Carrefour. Then we can start sending those recordings across the border to the brothers in DR.”
They finalize a few details before joining the rest of the house for a lunch of beans over mayin moulin. After the meal, everyone joins in to clean up the empty plates and serving trays. Kevin asks, “Why do you eat mayin moulin instead of rice? I thought rice is what goes with beans!” Father Vitor suppresses a grin and glances at one of the younger brothers. “Well, why is that?” The younger man smiles broadly and replies without hesitation, “Because rice needs to be imported. What we grow in the Artibonite is stolen by the Macoutes. But we can grow corn anywhere. And the upper classes refuse to eat mayin moulin because it’s peasant food. So there’s always enough for the rest of us!” With that, hugs and two-cheek kisses are exchanged, and Kevin leaves Mother Mary’s Eternal Peace with his backpack, a handheld tape recorder, a pocket full of gourdes, and a blessed mission from God.