Dirk is Australian. He’s in his late twenties and is big. Not fat, just a large man with light brown hair pulled back into a shaggy combination of samurai bun and Cheech & Chong pony tail. He has a loud voice with a very obvious Aussie accent and is impossible to ignore. With all the anti-American energy around the country, he literally wears a vest with an Australian flag on the front and a hand written message in Creole on the back, roughly “I am not American. I am Australian.” But for Haitians, there’s most beautiful Haiti, (as the song lyrics emphasize, “Cherie, pi belle peyi, pase lot peyis!”), anywhere else and of course, Zeta Zuni, which might as well be the moon.
He’s also former Australian military of some sort and has been assigned to Mirogoane for “male energy” security. It endlessly irritates him that if the shit hits the fan for real, he’s going to need one of the damn Yanks to get him into the US Embassy because Australia doesn’t have one here! Well, really, he’ll need Kat to bat her lashes at the embassy Marines. She’s already gotten each of them to buy her drinks at the Montana Hotel. And Kevin’s not sure the guards would let him in the Embassy anyway. But there’s also a saying in Creole, “Tout blan sanble”. Ironic! Dirk needs to keep his head on a swivel like the rest of the Americans, because a dechokaj mob is unlikely to read the fine print.
When Kevin stumbled into the kitchen the night before, he recognized the young woman from Kat’s pickup truck. She was lighting the kerosene lanterns and setting out carafes of filtered water. Kat explains that Jocelyn stays in the NGO house and helps with cleaning and cooking. Kevin is still not comfortable with the class implications or how easily Americans become accustomed to “the help” they could never afford back home. But nevertheless, all the blan have Haitian maids, often live-in with separate quarters. The Haitians of all classes do as well. If an American doesn’t hire at least one maid, they are considered to be miserly and mean. Unless one’s project is to perform manual housekeeping in Haiti, it’s much more sensible for an American to hire domestic help. It’s also one of the few sources of income for many Haitians, other than the oldest professions. Or so Kevin will later explain to the bean counters back home, who seem to think he’s already gone rogue and is building either a plantation or a guerilla army. Kevin mutters to himself, “Thanks again, Tim!”
On the roof, Kevin asks, “How did Jocelyn end up living at the house? Did she work here when you moved in?” Kat hesitates before replying, “No, she wasn’t here when we arrived. It’s a long story, but she doesn’t really have other options. She’s a huge help, so she’s kind of a member of the team now.” Kevin’s nodding as Kat goes down the ladder to replenish supplies on the roof. While she’s downstairs Dirk adds, “Since Education NGO runs schools for Haitian kids, she’s able to get a free education. But even better, she’s a teacher’s assistant for the younger kids who are struggling with math. She has a safe place to stay, with only a few clueless blans to look after. Instead of trying to fend off the groping and raping that goes on behind the market stalls.” Kat is yelling up about the corkscrew now, Dirk replies with exaggerated accent, “Aye, Sheila. Got the corkscrew up here on the barbie!”
Kat returns to the roof with two more wine bottles and they chat idly while looking up at the sky. Throughout the night, they’ve paused conversation to listen to the occasional sound of gunfire. Kevin is debating caliber of round and rifle vs shotgun, when Dirk starts to talk about his Australian military service and his time in some police action Kevin’s never heard of. They drift briefly into the pacifism, non-violence, self-defense lane, but that all seems irrelevant with the boom and pop of weaponry at 4 am. It isn’t getting closer, so they doze and smoke and drink until the sun starts to rise and the neighborhood roosters demand that everyone get up and present themselves.
Jocelyn has already made coffee and has it waiting in the courtyard, along with some Laughing Cow cheese and fresh-baked croissant from the home bakery across the alley. But most importantly, ice cold jugs of purified water. Well, not ice cold, but much cooler than room temperature. As they recover from last night’s party and finish their coffee, it’s discovered that there’s no water coming out of the faucets because Someone, could have been anyone, bumped the fill line out of the barrel the night before while making drinks, and now there’s no running water in the house.
Kat listens to the report and says, “Well, time to get the 5-gallon buckets out.” Everyone except Kevin, immediately starts pulling heavy buckets of water from underneath counters and places one next to the toilet in the bathroom, another in the middle of the courtyard, and two by the kitchen sink. Kat says, “Obviously, none of this is drinkable, but it will keep the toilet flushing until the barrel refills. She grabs a sponge and dips it into the courtyard bucket, and begins to pull her thin t-shirt over her head and slip her loose skirt down over her hips. Kevin, Dirk, and Jocelyn each grab their own sponge, turn toward a different courtyard wall and wash the sweat, dust and smoke from last night off themselves. Each dries off while gazing at their wall, until Kat splashes her pail of water into the drain.
They grab some cleaner/dryer clothing and get dressed. Then each finds a quiet corner for their morning routines. A few hours later without any real command, they reconvene in the center of the courtyard. Kevin says, “I have a confession to make. I think I screwed up the water system. I sort of remember tripping over it, but didn’t think it mattered. Should have said something. That was sloppy.” Kat looks a bit surprised at the apology, and looks at Jocelyn with her eyebrows raised. Jocelyn hides a smile which comes into full view when Dirk quips loudly, “No worries, mate! As long as you didn’t let a crocodile into the outhouse! Besides, I’ll just drive the truck into a river later, so we can wash off properly and air dry in the sun!”