Oh Noes! Trouble in Paradise!

In 1969 I fled des Etats Unis and marinated in the French Caribbean paradise of Guadeloupe. I lived in Pointe-a-Pitre with a lovely family on Rue De L'abbe Gregoire, then taught English in Baie-Mahault, a tiny seaside village where my hosts served me langouste every day. NOW LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!

Month-long protests over consumer prices and wages in the French Caribbean island of Guadeloupe turned deadly late on Tuesday night when a man was killed in the capital Pointe-a-Pitre.

“He was killed at a roadblock manned by youths,” Guadaloupe Prefect Nicolas Desforges told FRANCE 24, insisting that the casualty was not the result of “a clash with security forces.”

The victim, identified as Jacques Bino, was a union activist who was shot dead in his car after leaving a LKP (Collective Against Exploitation) meeting in Poite-a-Pitre. The LKP is a coalition of unions and leftist groups that launched the island’s general strike on January 20.

Bino’s car was near a roadblock manned by armed youths in the volatile Chanzy district when the youths opened fire, according to a local official. An inquiry into the incident is now underway.

Alerted at 12:18am on Wednesday (4:18am GMT), "police and firefighters faced numerous difficulties in getting to the place where the car and the wounded man were located. They arrived at 2:50am, and found the victim dead with a wound to the thorax," Desforges said.

Six members of the security forces were slightly injured during shoot-outs with armed youths, including three police officers who were hurt while trying to help emergency teams who rushed to Bino's aid, according to police officials.

Bino was the first victim of the escalating violence in Guadeloupe. Shortly after his death, the government in Paris appealed for calm and French Interior Minister Michele Alliot-Marie called same-day crisis talks on the deteriorating security situation.

French Prime Minister François Fillon issued a statement condemning the "extremely serious violence" that has erupted on the island. Fillon announced on Wednesday that France will dispatch four additional squadrons to Guadeloupe to help local authorities keep the peace.

Chaos on the streets

The general strike that began last month has paralysed the island and has threatened to spread to the other overseas French territories.

Guadeloupian protesters manned road barricades, sparked bonfires, looted shopping centres and destroyed businesses on Tuesday, with the island's main airport shutting down temporarily. Ary Chalus, mayor of the town of Baie-Mahault where three policemen were injured, has described the scene as "chaos".

Pointe-a-Pitre (French West Indies)

particular sounds have become familiar
markets, motorbikes, the clock tower
but at ten o'clock the street is too quiet
starving black dogs drift past in ragged files,
death messengers dispersed from the center of town
their tongues hang out; their eyes are
narrow, sickened
mothers carry garbage down to the gutter
across from the Palais de Justice dogs are
sleeping on the steps of St. Peter's Cathedral

you go into the street, stumble, look up
you catch a glimpse
you pass her room, brown cloth swatches
you recognize the eyes

earlier there were bats, flitting like swallows
through the half light, from the balcony
over the park, the dark comes quickly, over fishermen and secretaries
earlier the brothers were chanting paternosters
behind the high walls, down in the gardens
dogs and monks under the shadow of the cathedral,
waiting for visions and mysteries
aeons ago celestial warriors tore off a corner of Paradise,
flinging it to earth . . .

in the cafe at ten o'clock, the swarthy men
are playing at checkers
you go into the street and are alone
you step down, you are isolated, timeless
this is your own corner
ten o'clock, everyone is weeping
I want to be there, to go, to see, to ascend

we have all drawn crazy scenes as children
not that the pictures get any better
gutter noises; cockroaches scuttle over stones
this world has broken too many people

in your own glass the eyes look forgotten
in the center of the city the cathedral watches
like a mother over all her wandering sons

--Amos Stoltzfus