Franklin remains on guard, despite the accommodating atmosphere. Without warning, a swarm of kids gathered around him, begging for a coin. Urgent moment. The temptation to distribute small change comes to his mind, but he recovers. It is neither desirable nor recommended to instigate a small riot. As he rushes into the taxi, the first melodies of Compas reach him from the background. The start is chaotic. Navigating through this conglomerate is no small feat. The driver tries to cross the blockade with loud blasts of the two-tone horn. Undeterred, the tenacious bang on the hood of the old Chevrolet with a vengeance. As usual, the gendarmes are overwhelmed. It’s a rat race up to the roundabout. The avenue is now clear, but not for long. We must zigzag, avoid holes, spare stray dogs, vendors on the side of the streets, distracted drivers, and vehicle wrecks. Gaily painted tap-taps enhance with colors the route. The traffic jam worsened at the entrance to Delmas, a popular district. Bottleneck. Gridlock. Dog bed. No traffic lights. The few remaining ones hang like bats from pylons. A cop moves like a disjointed semaphore. Drivers ignore him. Run for your life. The law of the strongest or most reckless prevails as the vital principle—a permanent miracle.
From “The Student” by Jean Genève Schubert (translated from French by Louis Villalba)
Franklin left as a youngster to study abroad and now returns to Haiti as a successful doctor. The idea of changing his country into a promised land haunts him. But first, he must confront the reality of a degraded nation in the hands of corrupt politicians. From the author’s detailed descriptions, one can learn much about the island’s misery. This snippet recounts Franklin’s arrival at the airport in Port-au-Prince, “Bottleneck. Gridlock. Dog bed. No traffic lights. The few remaining ones hang like bats from pylons. A cop moves like a disjointed semaphore. Drivers ignore him. Run for your life. The law of the strongest or most reckless prevails as the vital principle—a permanent miracle.
Original:
Franklin reste sur ses gardes, malgré l’atmosphère accommodante. Sans crier gare, une nuée de gosses s’est agglutinée autour de lui, quémandant une obole. Moment pressant. La tentation de distribuer menues monnaies lui vient à l’esprit, mais il se reprend. Il n’est ni souhaitable, ni recommandé d’engendrer une petite émeute. En s’engouffrant dans le taxi, les premières mélodies d’un Compas direct lui parviennent en fond musical. Le démarrage est chaotique. Se frayer un chemin dans ce conglomérat relève de l’exploit. Le chauffeur tente de franchir le blocus à grands coups de klaxon deux tons. Guère effrayés, les téméraires, par dépit, cognent sur le capot de la Chevrolet hors d’âge. Les gendarmes sont dépassés comme d’habitude. Jusqu’au rond-point, c’est la foire d’empoigne. L’avenue est maintenant dégagée, pas pour longtemps. Il faut zigzaguer, éviter les trous, épargner les chiens errants, les marchandes au bord des rues, les conducteurs inconscients, les épaves de véhicules. La rue est colorée de tap-taps bigarrés. L’embouteillage se confirme à l’entrée de Delmas, quartier populaire. Goulot d’étranglement. Bouchon infranchissable. Chienlit. Aucune signalisation lumineuse. Les rares feux restants pendent comme des chauves-souris aux pylônes. L’agent de la circulation s’agite comme un sémaphore désarticulé. Les automobilistes l’ignorent. Sauve qui peut. La loi du plus fort ou du plus téméraire est érigée en principe vital. Miracle permanent.
Extrait de “L’etudiant” de Jean Genève Schubert
