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400 pages, Paperback
First published January 5, 2016
The dirt landing strip was carved into the fields of sugarcane and bananas like a scar. The Jeremie airport itself was a one-room cement hut. A sign reading BIENVENUE A JEREMIE. LA CITE DES POETES. Seeing that sign had been the first hint that I would love this place.The author not only understands the lure of faraway, but fully understands marriage as well:
"Just after Terry got the offer to come here, he got another offer," she said. "Head of security at a shopping mall in Tennessee. And I thought, Great, now he doesn't have to go to Haiti. We went up there to visit. I liked the way we could go out at night, the shopping, the music. It was a good salary, good hours for Terry, good for me, everything good. But Terry said he wasn't going. We had a big fight. He said, 'I don't want to spend my life defending The Gap and Zara,' and I said, 'Honey, those places are essential to my way of life.'
First stop was always the commissary, where a dozen National Police were lounging in the morning sun. They were playing dominoes and getting their shoes shined. Every now and again they would impound a stolen goat or pig, and these animals were tethered out front, munching on the dying crabgrass. When the animals got big enough, the National Police would barbeque the evidence.