Celebrating International Women’s Day

Sisters in deed and in factThere’s nothing like genuine sisterhood to bring out the best in a woman. I am fortunate to know a few ladies for whom I would do anything and go anywhere. These girlfriends and I look forward to growing old together, laughing at all the dumb things we did when we thought we had youth to spare.

We guard one another’s secrets, and will carry them to the afterworld. We trust, love, and are fiercely loyal. We stand with one another, eat, pray, and fight—when necessary—together.

With each passing year, we learn more about one another and grow closer. One of my friends who knows how shy I am, accompanies me when I have to stand in front of crowds to give a reading. I catch myself holding her hand, the way sisters might when one is scared. She’ll sit in the audience, holding me up with her protective gaze. When she cannot be there, I imagine her sitting in the front row, smiling and telling me “You’ve got this!”

A few years ago, one of my friends went through an insane separation from her partner. Children were involved. This guy was abusive, and an all-around jerk.  When she told me about it, I despised him instantly. I told my friend we would fix the situation. We devised a little scheme.

katia in Fort JacquesNow, I don’t know much about Vodou, but certain people will swear that being Haitian automatically makes me a witch. My girlfriend’s guy had always thought I knew a lot more about magic than I said. That was one time when stereotype worked in my favor.

I went to the backyard, scraped up a handful of dirt. I dug into the bottom of my purse, got three of the ugliest pennies I owned. I went to the grocery store to buy a few chicken feet. I put the items in a brown paper bag, and made sure the guy received them. Somehow we let him know the backyard dirt really came from a cemetery. The three penies were the price of his soul. And the chicken feet…well, who wants to receive chicken feet? He panicked.

The guy thought my precious gift would make his life very difficult, indeed.  He despised me now as much as I despised him. My girlfriend left him soon afterwards. He didn’t stop being a jerk, but the little voice in the back of his tiny brain made him think twice about his actions. Mister man is still a jerk and still a coward who trembles at the sight of chicken feet. I suppose this is one of the incidents my girlfriend and I will laugh about, when we’re speeding on the Verrazano Bridge fifty years from now. Ha!

KarineThere’s nothing like a good sister-friend to make life beautiful. And, based on the way things are going today, we need to band together more than ever—to prevent spermatogenesis from annihilating what is left of civilization.

“Tell Them I’m Still Here” – Maxo Simeon

Tell Them I'm Still Here“Tell them I’m still here. Tell my sisters, my cousins, their children–I’ve never met any of their children. But tell them anyway.  Tell them Maxo Simeon said he is still alive. Di yo m’fout la toujou.” Jean-Max Simeon

“I was taking my daughter to school.  She was getting out of the car, when the ground started to shake. I yelled at her to get back in. We drove fast. You see me here.  Ask me why I’m alive. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” Frank Simeon

SAM_0287“You realize your big house is useless. The furniture is nothing. You are afraid of your big house. The bigger it is, the faster it  kills you.” – Lucienne

“The walls stretched. They shook you. One minute I was here. Next minute I was upside down. The house was elastic. It was a miracle that we survived. ” – Nadia Simeon

large family tent“When you’re inside the tent, you feel like somebody set your skin on fire. You don’t move. You wait. You know if you live to see the next day, maybe you’ll see the one after it.” -Barbara Simeon

“After 49 years of back-breaking work in the United States, I was supposed to spend my remaining years in my own country.  Now they tell me my house collapsed.  I don’t want to hear that my life in America was for nothing.” -MyrtaSAM_0288

“I didn’t know what was happening. How was I supposed to know? I held my baby, and ran. I didn’t know where we would stop. I just ran.” Nicole

“There are so many ways it is described, this ‘Thing’ that manifested itself that January afternoon, leaving Haitians in such fear that even those whose houses are undamaged will not sleep inside. ” -Actress and poet Michele Voltaire Marcelin — from “The Thing”

“Caribbean Market fell. People were screaming.  The market kept falling. The roof. The walls. The air turned to dust.” -Stanley Simeon

“People in America knew more than we did. We didn’t have televisions to watch the news. We didn’t have a radio. People guessed. People repeated what they’d heard. We believed everything. We believed nothing.” – Hans Simeon

“I was sitting in my taptap, when it hit. Dozens of people tried to fit in the cab. They piled on the hood. They jumped on the roof. They wanted me to drive them away from the problem. But the problem was everywhere.” –Rodley Simeon

“Children asked what it was. We couldn’t tell them what it was. The children called it by the sound it made: Goudougoudou (goodoogoodoo.)  ‘Goudougoudou eats people,’ the children said. Every time the ground shook, the children cried out, ‘Goudougoudou is going to eat us too.’ ” Jenny

Mango - Papa Yiyi - February 2010
VoicesfromHaiti photo – February, 2010

“People came from everywhere. You didn’t know who they were. They had lost families and homes. They were hungry.  They asked if they could eat the green mangoes on our tree. We told them they could. We sat together and ate. Papa Yiyi planted the mango tree seven years ago. He died shortly afterwards. He would be pleased to know how many people the tree feeds now.” – Barbara Simeon

Still shot of Anaika Saint Louis from CNN video.
Still shot of Anaika Saint Louis from CNN video.

“Anaika Saint Louis was just 11 years old. She wanted to live. But the world flew too far away for her arms to reach. She ran in her sleep.  Six years ago today, Anaika Saint Louis started her journey to Paradise. Every tear her innocent eyes shed was a waterfall to me. Even though Anaika and I never met, I feel as if I knew her. I remember her voice. I can still her screaming. Rest in Paradise, little angel.” – Rachelle Coriolan

Their Eyes Were Watching God

It tDesktop1ook Zora Neale Hurston seven weeks to pen one of the most important works in literature, Their Eyes Were Watching God, in Haiti.  That country just fills you with inspiration. Spend a few days or weeks there. And who knows? The next great work may come from you. Get to know Zora!

 

Haiti Everywhere

Pumpkin Soup Collage - Katia D. UlysseI went to the grocery store last night, in search of a particular item. The place was packed with people shopping for New Year’s parties. The lines were endless. The shelves were almost empty; people were stocking up—in case some unexpected event forced them to barricade themselves inside their homes for all of 2016. I can’t blame them; the world is full of crazy surprises nowadays.

I decided to try my luck at a nearby 7-Eleven. I asked the cashier if they carried the item I needed. He said, “sure.”

“Fantastic!”

The guy said: “I detect an accent. You’re not from here, are you?” You know I welcome every opportunity to say “I’m from Haiti.”

Catherine Flon, Dessaline's goddaughter- sews Blue and Red to create an independent Haiti's first (and current) flag
Catherine Flon, Dessaline’s goddaughter- sews Blue and Red to create an independent Haiti’s first (and current) flag)

The man’s eyes widened. “Sak pase? Nap boule!” he said. Now, it was my eyes that popped open. “You speak Creole,” I asked, with the excitement of a kid on Christmas Eve.

“Of course, I do.”

“How did you learn to speak my language?” I wanted to know.

“I lived in Haiti for many years. I taught English at a school there. I was in Saint Marc.”

haiticoatofarmsA line of shoppers formed at the checkout counter. We both looked at the people, and returned to our conversation. He needed to get back to his post. I went with him. As he worked, we talked in Creole. “I’m so happy to meet you,” he said. “I don’t have anybody to practice Creole with.”

“Neither do I,” I wanted to say but didn’t.

“Where in Haiti are you from?” he asked.

“Petion-Ville.”

“I know Petion-Ville very well. Where in Petion-Ville?”

“I went to Anne Marie Javouhey,” I began.

“Oh yes, that’s right next to Lycee Petion.”

“Yes!”

Do you know Eglise Saint Pierre?”

kdu photo, taken near a pile of post-quake rubble.“Of course. It’s a beautiful church. I used to go to the park across the street all the time. It was peaceful there. I want to go back someday, Incha Allah.”

“You have an accent, too. Where are you from?”

“Ethiopia.”

“Now, that’s a place I want to visit one of these days.”

The man continued: “You will, Incha Allah. God first. Everything comes after that. People say Haiti is horrible, but that’s not true. It has a lot of problems. The government needs to figure itself out, but Haiti is a beautiful place. The people are genuine and generous. Forget about the food.”

“Ah, you ate too much griyo?”

“No griyo for me. I’m Muslim.” He reached for my hand to shake it. “My sister, you made my day.”

“Mine too.” We’re both smiling like diplomats.

“You have to come back to visit, Incha Allah. I’m here every day.”

SAM_0540“I will.” And I was not fibbing. I had to go. We shook hands again. I walked out, thinking how wonderful it would be if all of us in this crazy world could let people believe in whatever they choose. What a world it would be, if we could just shake hands and let one another live in peace.

It’s amazing how our side of the island tends to bring people of all races and nationalities together. I love that about Haiti. Happy Independence Day, my dear!

Nou Bèl. Nou La! T-shirts Get the T-shirt. Spread the message.
Nou Bèl. Nou La! T-shirts
Get the T-shirt. Spread the message.