[quote]"Foutbòl" is my favorite sport and, come to think of it, Stade Sylvio Cator is one of the spots in Haiti that holds a very special place in my heart.
As a young boy (before I was allowed to wear long pants), my older brother would proudly battle to protect our position and to nudge me forward in the tight line-ups, every time the Lions of RCH (Racing Club Haitien) were scheduled to devour another prey at the stadium. We often made it to the big gate (bò simityè a).
<i>"Yeu: pate, pate, pate"… "Tou kale tou kale…"… "papita, papita, papita"… "Voye bagay la non monchè, dat sa a!" …"M voye l deja wi dirèk, apa l ap monte vin jwenn ou. Ba li l pou mwen tanpri asosye!"</i>
Under the brightest lights of our nation, are assembled 20,000 – 30,000 anxious, excited, noisy and happy Haitians. The foutbòl game will only start at seven but we came here early because, this
is not merely a rendez-vous between the Old Lion and a prey. Tonight, under the giant Pepsi sign where we religiously sit, third row from the top, we will also witness the performances of Mazora, Ti Gerino, Lòmsanzo, Kiki and Koplan.
Mazora will make sure you laugh your lungs out all evening with his outrageous nun and priest jokes, Ti Gerino and Lòmsanzo are exhibitionists: Ti Gerino and his friends will entertain you with the latest Bruce Lee and "Chawolin" moves on display at Ciné Lido, Olympia or El Dorado while Lòmsanzo will smoke a "Kòmilfo" with his toes- leg tangled around his neck. Kiki is RCH's number one fan. As he strides "chèlbèrement" along the full length of the stadium, you can't miss him because he is dressed in the Old Lion's colors (Yellow and Blue) from head to shining shoes, panama hat and walking cane included.
But my favorite entertainer was the one who, without effort, made you laugh and shake your head in amazement. In those jean-claudist days, "Koplan" was the firs
t and only Haitian "hippie" (with long Rasta-like dread locks) that I knew. The infamous Tonton Makout arrested him more than once and shaved his head, apparently because Jean-Claude wanted to be the Haitian with the tallest afro. Koplan never worked a day in his life yet he always dressed in the finest clothes, courtesy of his relatives in the U.S. And he swore that someday he would be the richest man in New-York. Koplan had a girlfriend but none of us had ever met her. She lived in the upper middle-class neighborhood of "Canapé Vert", far away from our populous Kafoufèy, so he liked to simply called her
Koplan who is a fan of "Violette Athletic Club", "The Old Tigre", thus RCH's greatest rival, would at times come and sit under the giant Pepsi sign (right in the Lion's den, so to speak). As soon as he showed up, THE Haitian Rasta became the center of attention.
Waving his dread locks right and left, he loudly greeted everyone in his usual manner, <i>"Alo, alo, alo… la
Bourgeoisie!"</i>. The laughter began. Koplan was unstoppable.
He would start telling you about <i>"Kanapevè" </i>'s insatiable appetite for his sexual prowess and then continue his bragging spree to one subject after another and, because of the entertaining value, everyone pretended to believe each and every story his crazy mind cooked up for us on that day.
One day, someone under the giant Pepsi sign grew tired of Koplan's annoying habit of constantly moving his bushy dread locks right and left, often obstructing the view to the "foubòl" field. The angry and unwise brother said: <i>"Sa masisi sa a genyen li bat kò l konsa a, hen?"</i> ….
Oooooh! Mezanmi! <i>ma.. ma.. kisa?</i> Everyone was waiting to see what would happen next because you simply don't call a Haitian man a homosexual and certainly not in public.
Koplan got up and took a good look at his opponent, from head to toe. He then sat down, shook his head and said in his peculiar mocking and trembling voice:
Mezanmi, gade gwosè on soulye krepsòl ki nan pye nèg la"</i>
In the midst of the laughter relief that followed this derogatory statement about his attacker's big ugly shoes Koplan extravagantly lifted, for all to admire, the brand new pair of boots he was wearing (borrowed from my brother who had yet to wear them at the time – a gift from another diaspora-based brother) and said: <i>"Mezanmi, men fèm kay yon malerèz!"</i> (Behold a poor woman's rent – referring to the expensive nature of "HIS" boots).
Ayiti is not a country. It is home, the home of a beautiful and funny family. My people...
N ap toujou sonje ou Koplan!
Lanmou pi fò pase lanmò![/quote]
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