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He smiled. Another round of shots, another round of drinks at the photographers'
table. Then what sounded like machine-gun fire in the back of the hotel, over the
sound of someone playing a wistful Haitian ballad on the untuned piano.
He smiled again, more broadly. "Wait here," he said. I was soon joined by a man
about whom I remembered little for a long time other than enormous glasses and
a face like a bug, pop- eyed and watchful, a small, delicate man who looked ...
Also coming down around the mountainside was the art merchant, who smiled a
big smile in front of the black clouds and pointed to the painting that he carried
like a shield across his chest. I shook my head and turned back to the city. I
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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