MUMBO JUMBO
Tall palm trees swayed in the soft Haitian breeze. The dance floor under the stars was filled with natives who barely danced. Partners were held close as they swayed like the trees. Their hips ground. Shoeless feet hardly moved. Donny and I sat on our very uncomfortable woven chairs that filled a small corner with mostly American tourists. Bongo drums beat out the rhythm for the dancers. It was exciting, daring, so natural for these people. Stage spotlights came on. Eyes sparkled, looked somewhat ghostly. Young girls, skinny, fat, tall, short appeared in colorful, full skirts, down to their ankles.No two were alike. They all wore large bandanas on theirs head, no two tied exactly the same. Donny bet me each tie signified a group, a tribe, from some place in Haiti. I turned down his bet as I felt sure he would win.
I was enjoying myself, drinking a pina collada, when one of the girls screamed and fell on the dance floor. Her writhing, contortions called for a doctor. None came. Was this part of the show aimed at the Americans? One tall man, definitely American or English, started to rise, put one foot on the dance floor and was escorted out by two dark skinned natives carrying machetes.
The stage floods dimmed. Those dancers still on the floor trickled out. It was time for Donny and me to put our plan into action. On the blue cobblestone street a long line of falling apart black cars waited for fares. We knew where we wanted to go and approached the first car. Our French was pathetic. I pointed to myself, moved my arms as if I were driving, pretended to be chopping off my own head. 'Mon mari et moi, Voo Doo, real Voo Doo.' As bad as my presentation was, the driver knew what I meant, shook his head 'no' so hard, I thought he'd lose it. Donny tried the next car. 'Mais non, madam,' Believe me, we tried ten cars, offered American money which amounted to $25, more than these wretches earned in a month. There were no takers. Every tourist was gone. The dancing area, stage were empty and dark. A lonely car, its wheels wobbling, appeared. We were glad someone would at least get us back to the Hilton. 'Je suis, Francois,' he said. His English no better than our French. We made out from his motions that he would take us into the hills to see real voodoo. He was a smart ass, charged us $75, from where we were to the voodoo place and back to our hotel. No argument. Francois shifted gears and we headed off onto a dirt road with no street lights, candles burning in hut windows.
We stopped. Francois told me, pointing at my white blouse, 'votre chemise blanc, OFF, Off.' He must be insane. I refused to take off my blouse . Showing me a large knife, he came close to me, feigned slitting my throat if I disobey. I moved close to Donny, unbuttoned my blouse and handed it to him. 'Merci,' the driver said and motioned for us stay low, very low, and follow him. Whispering as softly as I could with fear running from my tongue, I let Donny and the driver know I was ready to go back to the hotel.
I didn't go anywhere. A shriek, loud, piercing , scared the devil out of me. Chickens cackled. Through thorny bushes we could see women all wearing white dresses, turning, singing, making large crosses in the air. In the middle a large circle, one fat lady stomped the dirt. Dust flew. She took a live chicken, spun it around until she could no longer stand straight and bit off the head of the chicken. The other participants went wild, sang, drank the chicken's blood. I vomited as quietly as I could.
Francois pulled me by the hand, made Donny and me almost crawl back to the car. He pushed me into the back, made me lie on the floor. He didn't start the motor. 'Monsieur, you steer car, 'Non?' Donny guided the silent car down the dirt road as Francois sweated and pushed from the rear. The sounds from the voo doo area died away. Francois started the motor and delivered us to the concierge at the Hilton. Donnie gave him $100, thanked him for the interesting, exciting show.
Francois laughed, really roared, handed me my chemise blanc and in perfect English, said, 'Good night, Monsieur. Tell your friends to find me. I will be happy to take them to see our natives perform.'
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