Tet Chaje

Audrene is one of the housekeepers here at the hotel, I like her a lot. She works from early in the morning until quite late. We don’t talk that much, in part because I have a fear of speaking, not sure whether Creole or French will escape my mouth and worried about how badly I’m going to butcher a language. Today I was on the empty terrace (the restaurant) making tea when she stopped me. “Michelle, you work in the health domain?” She asked me in french.

“Yes.”

“On what exactly?”

I hesitated. “With children under the age of 18 months.” The word I used for child was the creole “timoun” – literally it means little man. Petit moun.

“But for everything, all children?”

“Well, some of the research is for children with HIV.” I’m careful because I don’t want anyone to assume that I am speaking to someone because they have HIV.

“And do you give medicine – is it available for everyone with HIV? Or do they have to be sick?”

“It’s available to everyone under the age of two years… so it’s important to diagnose and start them on treatment right away. After two years, it depends on the level of the illness, whether or not they will receive medicine”

“And they can live with HIV?”

“Yes, people can live like normal if they get medicine early.”

“But Michelle,” she pressed. “Even in the United States isn’t it possible for them to be cured of HIV?”

“No. It doesn’t exist.”

“Even for the richest people in the United states?”

“No! Even if you are rich, HIV cannot be cured.”

Audrene shook her head at me. “Tet chaje.” This phrase is an important one in creole… meaning “charged head” – when someone tells you something crazy and it is overwhelming to your brain. “Thank you. This is good information to have.”

I smiled at Audrene, picked up my tea and went back to work.