21262: RE: 21354; (Hermantin)Sun-Sentinel-Marine from Miami becomes a bridge between Ha (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

From: leonie hermantin <lhermantin@hotmail.com>

Marine from Miami becomes a bridge between Haitians, U.S. military

By Sandra Hernandez
Staff writer
Posted April 16 2004

Port-au-Prince, Haiti · Growing up on Miami's streets, James J. Beauvais
never thought about teaching for a living. But that changed in February when
the U.S. Marines sent him to Haiti.

"I grew up speaking Creole at home but I never thought I would be teaching
it to anyone," says Beauvais, stationed in Port-au-Prince and who
volunteered to teach Creole to other Marines sent to Haiti after President
Jean-Bertrand Aristide fled the nation.

"Open the door. We are not here to hurt you. Do you speak English?" says
Beauvais, in a booming voice, as a group of about 60 soldiers sits on
concrete bleachers, taking notes and practicing the Creole phrases that
could save their lives.

The language classes are part of Beauvais' new life as member of an
international military force that arrived in February after Aristide fled
under pressure from rebel leaders and anti-government opposition groups.

About 2,000 U.S. soldiers are deployed alongside French, Canadian, and
Chilean troops. They are slated to remain until June 1 when the United
Nations is expected to send in peacekeeping forces.

But for Beauvais, 26, this mission holds a special significance: It is his
first trip back to the place where he was born.

"I never thought to come back before this. My parents told me stories about
how poor it was, how things were so difficult but until I got here I had no
idea [of] the level of poverty," he says, standing in a former cigarette
factory's soccer field that now doubles as his makeshift classroom.

Beauvais is among the 20 Haitian-Americans serving in this Caribbean nation
of 8 million. For some, it is a chance to discover a place that only existed
as a blurry childhood memory.

"I really don't remember very much about the place. It is almost like going
to Japan in that I really didn't know anything about either one," he says.

In 1983, when he was 5, Beauvais and his mother moved from Port-au-Prince to
Miami to join his father. His family, including two brothers, a sister and
grandmother, still live in South Florida.

The family spoke Creole at home and even though Beauvais often spoke
English, his close relationship to his grandmother helped him remain fluent.
"I guess I never realized how much I maintained my Creole," he says.

A radio operator, Beauvais joined the military six years ago. Now his
special language skills have changed his military role in Haiti. In addition
to teaching bi-weekly Creole classes, he recently joined a unit sent into
one of the capital city's most dangerous slums to conduct a disarmament
sweep.

"My job was to go in front of the raid and tell those inside to come
outside," he says. "I've never done anything like that but I was attached to
the unit because of my language skills."

So far, he has only assisted in one such operation. The raid took place last
month at a house in Cite Soleil, a poor neighborhood that is among the most
heavily armed in Port-au-Prince.

"I told the people inside the house they had a five-minute grace period to
come out. If they had any children they should send them out. Then I told
them the grace period was up and we were coming inside," he says.

The raid turned up little and while no one was hurt it was a tense time for
Beauvais. Such sweeps are rare for Marines, who are caught between their
role as peacekeepers and locals' demands that they disarm thugs and gangs,
some of whom are Aristide loyalists. The sweeps, and other actions, have
turned up only about 100 weapons, authorities say.

U.S. officials insist their role in disarming Haitians is limited to
confiscating illegal weapons and acting on intelligence to locate weapon
caches and assisting Haiti's National Police.

While Haiti produces no guns, many residents are heavily armed, some with
antique weapons, others with modern automatic rifles used during the most
recent outbreak of violence and death.

Beauvais says many Haitians are surprised when they hear him speak Creole.
"For the most part they smile and says nice things," he says, downplaying
the gunfire and anger some soldiers faced when they arrived last month.

His students joke that Beauvais is a strict teacher.

"He's good but some of the phrases are tough," says Sgt. Liborio Rivera, 29,
of New York City. "The one that is really tough to pronounce is: `We are not
here to hurt you.' "

Beauvais says some soldiers come to him after class for a little extra help
while others are eager to learn additional phrases such as "You are
beautiful?" or "How much is that?"

Time here has changed this Haitian-American, who says it has awakened a
desire to know a part of himself he had nearly written off.

"Believe it or not, I never had any interest in coming to Haiti," says
Beauvais, walking back to his open-air classroom for another round of
lessons. "My parents told me how poor it was. But now, after stepping foot
on the island, it has changed my perspective. I want to come back and see my
roots."

Sandra Hernandez can be reached at shernandez@sun-sentinel.com or
954-356-4514.      Email story
  Print story
PHOTO










Copyright © 2004, South Florida Sun-Sentinel

_________________________________________________________________
Get rid of annoying pop-up ads with the new MSN Toolbar – FREE!
http://toolbar.msn.com/go/onm00200414ave/direct/01/