Month: July 2012

I know Marie Ketsia Theodore-Pharel by her works. She is a gifted and prolific writer. Her books and stories have been published widely. I am proud to say that my own work has appeared alongside Ketsia’s in two  anthologies of Haitian writers: The Butterfly’s Way (Soho Press) and Haiti Noir (Akachic Books), both edited by Edwidge Danticat. Ketsia’s latest story is published in So Spoke the Earth, an anthology edited by the M. J. Fievre. Ketsia’s bibliography includes many beautiful books for children. She is a mom; her youngest was born just a few weeks ago. So, join me in wishing her major congratulations! Get to know Marie Ketsia Theodore Pharel here on VoicesfromHaiti. She grants us an INNERview into the life of a stunning, intelligent, undeniably talented woman: herself.

 

“I was not supposed to be here right now,” says Olga Latorture of Winter Haven, Florida. Every word comes with a larger-than-life smile. She has a tendency to look skyward when she talks, as if there are unseen beings constantly keeping watch over her. “I survived for a reason. I cannot waste a single moment of my life. My children need me. I am here to take care of them.”

It’s been almost two years since the breast cancer diagnosis, painful treatments, and hellish days which tried but did not destroy Olga’s resilience and faith. “Here I am!” she exclaims, eyes beaming with quiet strength, gratitude, and grace. “When people hear the word cancer, they see death. They see funerals. I see survival. I see life.”

The adjectives resilient, tenacious, victorious fit Olga like a custom-tailored three-piece suit. Subtle spices lift off skin that glows from endless hours in the hot kitchen. Her name is on the sign that hangs above the entrance of her modest carry-out/restaurant. “Olga’s Restaurant is a family business,” she announces proudly. “My daughter and I cook the food we serve. When you come to our place, we treat you like family.”

The big Haitian flag billowing fiercely out front lets you know where Olga’s heart is, or was–once upon a time. Olga’s restaurant is closer to Walt Disney’s Cinderella’s Castle than it is to her native Cap Haitien. She misses her homeland terribly, but refuses to partake in the kind of paralyzing nostalgia that keeps one from moving forward. “The Haiti I knew no longer exists,” she says matter-of-factly. “There was a time when the country was the pearl of the Antilles. Yes, now, I have to be realistic.”

Olga Latorture has endured the kind of abysmal physical pain that makes one appreciate the moment. She’s too busy being ‘present’ to live in the past or some unseen future.

“Resilience means dealing with whatever comes at you wherever you are. It means having the strength to ignore certain things and overcome others. If Haitians were not a resilient people, we could not even live in the United States. We endure insult on top of insult. For example, when one Haitian person is sick, they think we’re all sick. When one commits a crime, they think we’re all guilty. It takes resilience to keep holding our heads up, but we do. That is how and who we are. We make the best of whatever we hold in our hands. That is who I am. That is who I have to be for my children.”    

Olga has lived in the US for seventeen years. She worked for twelve years as a cake decorator at Publix before opening her restaurant in 2009. “I wanted to work for myself, you know. That is part of the American dream, yes?”

Unlike those who secretly enjoy the benefits of living in the US yet drop criticism every two seconds, Olga is unabashedly grateful for the opportunities she says she would not have had in Cap Haitien.

Call the United States whatever you like, but if you have a dream and a plan, this is the place to set them in motion. If you show up early, timecard ready to punch in to the great corporation called Your Life, there’s no telling what you might do. There are no lunch breaks; the hours and weeks run into one another; there are no sick days, no holidays; no maternity/paternity leave, no vacation; you have to work like your future and your children’s great-grandchildren’s future depend on it, but the benefits are limitless.

Exercise your faith and know that you will achieve IT, whatever it is. Whatever happens, however, don’t let go of your end of the rope. That’s what we Haitians mean when we say: “Kenbe la.” Don’t lose sight of your goal.

“I want my children to have more than this,” Olga makes a sweeping motion with her arms. “Running a business is not easy. It takes time for it to grow. We’ll get there, though. People come to my restaurant for the food I love to cook for them. This is the place where I show off our beautiful Haitian culture.”

If you’re looking for white tablecloths, soft music, and a wait staff to take your order, go elsewhere. If your belly growls for good Haitian food, and you happen to be in Winter Haven, Florida, make your way to Olga’s place. If you want a side of inspiration to go with your fried plantain, sit and chat with Olga for a while. You won’t be dissapointed.

Kenbe la!

Olga’s Restaurant is located at 1846 N 1 Street ~ Winter Haven, Florida ~ 33881

Every year at the big award ceremonies there’s a special block of time reserved for stars whose blindingly brilliant lights have been extinguished. A larger-than-life screen usually hangs above the audience. Everyone looks skyward—to view the lineup of mind-blowing talent that once seemed so formidable, if not immortal. As audience members blink back tears, everyone secretly wonders when their turn will come to be “honored” in this fashion. Will their picture even make it to the sky-screen? Will someone accidentally forget to include them in the lineup? Who will mourn their passing? Will anyone beside close family members even remember their contribution? Will anyone–especially those outside of the ‘Academy’–really, really care?

“Haiti lost one of the greatest men who ever lived,” said Leslie H. of Professor Michel Rolph Trioullot who passed away July 6, 2012. “He is revered among anthropologists worldwide. His book, Silencing the Past, is like a sacred text on college campuses. . .”

M.C. said: “What bothers me about Prof. Trouillot’s passing is that I never had a chance to tell him in person how his writings changed my life. I should have told him that, you know. But I didn’t want to bother him. Iwanted to have something important to say when I approached him. Everyone who knew Prof. Trouillot says he was as generous and giving as he was brilliant. I should have told him that his writing changed the course of my entire life.”

Sabine B. said, “My heart breaks now because Haiti has lost a giant among thinkers. I mourn, also, because there are so many people out there who don’t even know they should be mourning. They don’t even know the real significance of this loss.”

On the other side of the ocean, the island from which Dr. Michel Rolph Trouillot came is busy being reconstructed. Everyone is figuring out ways to harvest fruit from all the trees that have yet to be planted. While all the super-sizing of Haiti continues without a break, while investors rush to scrape the gold mines clean, let us heed Dr. Trouillot’s words and remember not to silence the past. Let us use the ropes of the past to ring the bell of Haiti’s real future.

Remember, also, that Haiti’s greatest treasures reside not in the mines but in the minds of our thinkers, especially our elders. The gold they possess in abundance is available, if we would only ask.  First, however, we must recognize, honor, and respect our elders. Respekte grandmoun yo! The treasures they carry inside their heads are priceless. Acknowledge, appreciate, and celebrate our elders now, lest– against their own will–they take all the gold with them.

Rest in perfect peace, Dr. Trouillot. VoicesfromHaiti celebrates your immeasurable contributions to Haiti and the world. We send our sincere condolences to those who have only begun to feel the sting of your passing.

(c) VoicesfromHaiti

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Selected works of Dr. Michel-Rolph Trouillot:

• 1977 Ti difé boulé sou Istoua Ayiti. New York: Koléksion Lakansièl.
• 1988 Peasants and Capital: Dominica in the World Economy. Johns Hopkins University Press.
• 1990 Haiti: State against Nation. The Origins and Legacy of Duvalierism. Monthly Review Press.
• 1995 Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History. Beacon Press.
• 2003 Global Transformations: Anthropology and the Modern World. Palgrave

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I did not know Dr. Trouillot personally, but I had the good fortune of having my writing appear alongside his in an anthology called Mozayik, edited by another great mind who passed away earlier this year: Roger Savain.

Please visit the following links for more on this national treasure.

Bob Corbett reviewed Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History in 1996

Nadève Ménard and Régine Michelle Jean-Charles’s invite tributes, recollections, and words you might wish to share about Dr. Trouillot on http://tandenou2.blogspot.com/

Anthropology Report: http://anthropologyreport.com/in-memoriam-michel-rolph-trouillot-1949-2012/

 

Dozens of family members had gathered at the sprawling Orange Lakes resort for a chance to create a little Magic Kingdom of our own. Rain fell for several days, but it did not dampen our spirit. As soon as the sun came out of hiding, we rushed to the resort’s “Fun Zone.” It was there that our big, fat Haitian vacation turned small and lean in less than one second. Yet, we considered ourselves extremely lucky.

The panoramic views were breathtaking: Majestic pines thrived alongside palm trees; wild fern sprouted right on their bark. The lakes were serenity defined. There were  friendly cranes, graceful swans, and the echoing cackle of enchanted children.  So much happiness, as you know, carries a steep price. My husband and I paid so much for our vacation that now our daughter keeps asking: “Why did that girl in the pink and white bathing suit have to die?”

As Disney World’s nightly fireworks boomed in the background, our family would gather in a villa for late dinners and lively conversation. One cousin’s fettuccine Alfredo was divine, but the R&B (rice and beans) was a thousand times better. The villa next door was home to the New York branch of the family tree. They’ve always made the best Macaroni au gratin this side of the Caribbean Sea; they did not disappoint. Two days into the vacation, our lively conversations became mostly sighs. My husband and daughter had witnessed the unimaginable.

Our daughter had made herself at home in the two-bedroom suite with a waterpark for a backyard. She planned to bounce herself silly on the Bungee Trampoline apparatus; the afternoon was reserved for miniature golf. As  waited in line to try the trampoline, my husband heard a cry for help a few feet beyond in the miniature golf area. Instinctively, he rushed toward the disembodied voice. Three people were already there: A girl had been pulled out of one of shallow ponds. A man on the other side of the fence was now shouting for my husband to help him over the fence: “I’m a Paramedic. I can help,” he cried out.

The paramedic began CPR. Three individuals were on the phone with 911 operators. My husband tried, but there was no shielding our daughter from the tragedy unfolding.

The Fun Zone was soon shut down. Most of the people in the pool area–a hundred yards or so away–had not heard about the “incident,” so there was still plenty of fun to be had.

As the sun went down, we learned from the Evening News Lady that the girl from the miniature golf pond had gone to heaven. They said her name was Ashton Jojo. She was from New York. She and her family had come to the resort to celebrate her 11th birthday.

The remainder of our time at the serene resort was not particularly serene. We know well that it could have been one of our own children. We could not stop thinking about Ashton Jojo and her family. 

It’s been a day since we left the resort; my heart continues to break. My husband is still stunned. Our daughter remains in shock. After all, miniature golf was next on her must-do list.

There are no words at times like these. We do not claim to know your pain, but VoicesfromHaiti sends love and Haitian-made resilience to Ashton Jojo’s family. We are beyond sorry for your loss.