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The boy in front of the fire was the only Haitian we had seen on the streets that
night. I kept going, hoping I would somehow figure it out. The Monitor did not
seem to know his way, either. Up ahead in the distance, I thought I saw lights. We
Two men were standing in front, playing guitars between two old amplifiers. A
drummer was behind them. They were laughing down at my Tonton Macoute,
who was dancing right below the truck. They watched him for a minute and then ...
Madame Jean-Jacques was sitting in front of a grill. I couldn't see her face behind
the smoke, but her body was substantial in its bright pink dress. A girl, a daughter,
was standing behind her, combing out her mother's hair and braiding it.
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The rainy season: Haiti since DuvalierUser Review - Not Available - Book Verdict
This welcome interpretation of Haiti provides many insights into a country that few North Americans understand. Wilentz, a journalist, captures the complex cultural ambience and mystery of domestic ... Read full review