We were quietly savouring a traditional Belizean lunch of spicy black beans and fresh salsa when the sudden knocking resumed. Looking up at the huge glass pane below the sloping roofline, I frowned and nearly dropped the warm tortilla, startled by the tell-tale robber mask and the sharp black eyes staring at us intently. He furiously tapped the insert again, insistent and loud to get our complete attention and then let out the elated, eponymous cry to let us know he really meant business.
“Qu’est-ce-qu’il-dit?” the bandit quickly cut to the chase and demanded in typical bold manner. This characteristic line is attributed by some to the sense of humour of the much maligned French, who heard in the ironic call, the perfect rhythm and musical words of their own baffled question perhaps then common in the multilingual West Indian colonies, which roughly translated to “What is he saying?”
