My Chauffeur and His Hamburger

Today was an interesting day. Meetings at work, and car hunting. Right now since I don’t have my car, my family provides a “chauffeur” for me. No, I’m not some rich snobby chick. The chauffeur is driving the family-owned 1982 Toyota truck that has no AC. Whenever I tell my friends in the U.S that I have a chauffeur, they imagine a man in a black tux picking me up in a Mercedes. Well my friends, this is not the case. Anyhoo, I  have a new chauffeur this year, his name is Mira and he’s such a quirky, funny dude. I like him. Everyday when I get out from my job I wait outside the gate for Mira, he’s always on time.  It’s funny ‘cuz there’s this hill before you get to my job and you can always hear when he’s coming because of the old engine on that Toyota put puttin’ up the hill, and the first thing you see is Mira’s head with that huge white smile bouncing around in the car (the roads are so bumpy it’s hard to sit still). He has dark beautiful skin and a huge smile revealing all of his teeth with a clear view of his gums all of the time, I appreciate him expressing happiness 24/7. Most people in my family are not pleased with him because quirky in this country equals dumb, unconfident, and so on and so forth (upper class Haitians are very judgmental).  But his quirky-ness cracks me up and although our communication is very limited (language barrier) he comes off as a nice dude to me.

Now what’s messed up about this country is the different classes of people.  I’m a higher class than most—not because I’m educated, not because of the amount of money I have in my bank account ($50.00 lol), but simply because of my skin color. You’ll rarely (really never, but you never know) see a light skinned chauffer. Unfortunately, this is the way it is. It’s sad and beyond messed up. Anyway, I get the jist that Mira feels like he works for me, he goes the extra mile to roll down the windows for me when it’s hot, open the door, put down the visor when the sun is hitting my face. I want him to feel comfortable, so everytime he does something I’m like “SAVA MIRA!!” that means “IT’s FINE!” or I tell him “I have two hands too”. I know he works for my family, but I feel awkward having him do extra stuff, just pick me up and lemme roll down my own window when I’m hot lol.

So after taking me around today I was STARVING and asked him to take me to this spot Buchara. As I was getting out of the car, he smiled at me, and I asked “ou grangou?” (you hungry?) I knew he was but asked anyway, he said he was fine. I told him to come with me. (you gotta remember, these people are almost always hungry and will never turn down food. After he leaves us, he probably sleeps in a tent city where food is limited). I never seen Mira roll up the windows and hop out of the car so fast. So here I am in this restaurant with all of these Grimels (light skinned Haitians), Mira and I take a seat. “Kisa ou vle” (what do u want?), he looks at the menu and shrugs, so I say “mwen vle the hamburger” (I want.. and I dunno how to say hamburger in creole lol) so he smiles. The waitress comes and I order the hamburger with fries, Mira orders the same thing, she asks me what I want to drink, I say water, Mira pauses, and says water too, knowing damn well he wanted some juice. When she walks away I say, “ou vle juice huh? Ou pa vle de l’eau” (u want juice huh? You don’t want water!) I keep telling him to get juice, and he’s like “no ca va ca va”. Okay fine. We sit in silence, Obama is on CNN on the TV to our left, he asks me if I voted for Obama, I said yes but every president is a liar. He laughs.  Awkward silence for 30 minutes until our food comes.

If you know me, you know it takes me no more than 30 seconds to eat a hamburger and fries. I’m already half way into my burger and ate most of my fries, I look over to see Mira on his second fry. He’s savoring each bite. I’m  like “damn!” I enjoy eating my food fast, but I slow down. 25 minutes later, this dude hasn’t even eaten the burger yet. I can’t help it, my burger is screaming, “EAT MEEE”.  I finish the burger in 3 bites, I look over and Mira’s burger is gone! I was like, “daaaaang this dude was frontin’ the whole time! I knew nobody ate that slow!”  So I push my plate to the side and continue talking to friends on BBM, but I notice something fishy. Mira is over there doing something.

The poor thing had the burger on his lap, and everytime I looked away he’d quickly take a huge bite and swallow.  I felt so bad. Why is he doing this? Is It because he felt he had to finish his food the same time I did? Did he think that when I was done I was going to rush him to finish his food so he could drive me to the next destination? I immediately felt so bad for eating all of my food, I should have waited for him to finish his plate, but he’s such a slow eater! As I’m telling him to slow down and it’s okay, he’s looking at me then looks behind him at the waitress who is coming to pick up my plate, looks at me, looks at the oncoming waitress, looks at me, and to my surprise he quickly stuffs the rest of the burger into his mouth as the waitress asks me “ou fini madame?” I say yes, and through a mouth full of a hamburger Mira manages to get out “Mwen Fini, TOO!!” (im finished too!)

It was comical, cute, and sad all at the same time. I paid the bill, he said “thank you so much” I said “no problem” he said “no it is a problem” or I think that’s what he said in creole, but It was an awkward response so I just let it go.

Why’d I write about this? Who knows? To me, it’s a sad story, but I’ll always remember Mira and that burger at Buchara.

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