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The String Bean
Papa Fritzner Georges was a Houngan Asogwe, with a large house, a rollicking attitude and a huge voice. He sang for our Kanzo with gusto, led merry chases around the Poto Mitan and fingered my long red hair with an approving nod to my husband every day.
I first encounter Papa Fritzner on the Internet of all places - there is a write up about him on the Burning Man site. A couple folks got their kanzo from him, and he appears in that narrative with the same enthusiam that he brought to our ceremonies.
He arrived daily on his motorbike, delighting in me greeting him with my halting kreyol. He danced every night with me and put me at his side for all the various working that were happening each day. I was glad for the company and desired to please him with my progress. He gave insights to our work that were unexpected. Advising us to stay calm the night of the brule zin, he quelled our fears over the heat, the noise and the crowd with a loving word and a calm attitude.
 We were hoping to do our Kanzo this year wtih him, but his illness overtook him and he succumbed as all Haitians do to their ills - lack of medicine, clean facilities and a long protracted bought of fevers brought down a great houngan.
Papa’s nick-name was “Po Pwa” - String Bean - an allusion to his height and thin frame. But inside that lanky body was a huge spirit. He was Dantor’s child and into her arms he went when his time came. I keep the paket he made for me close and his picture with it. The man they called a string bean was the best spiritual father I could have hoped for. I keep his light lit for all the world to see.
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