Haitian Poet Félix Morisseau-Leroy and Grandson

Editor's Note: This post about Félix Morisseau-Leroy appeared on Cappuccino Soul last Spring, but now is a good time to take another look at this Haitian writer who had great rhythm and spirit. To my surprise, the piece attracted the attention of Leroy's grandson, Albert Morrisseau-Leroy, who I've been in contact with via e-mails since last summer, occasionally. With this post I'm able to include an added treat -- a poem, written in French, by Albert.

One of my Haitian students W is very bright and scored 100 on one of the comprehension tests that we gave her, but she has been very timid about speaking in English. I thought maybe the poetic language of one of her homegrown poets would help to loosen her up a bit. W read the poem below by Haitian poet, Félix Morisseau-Leroy beautifully! Morrisseau-Leroy is credited with getting Creole recognized as one of Haiti's official languages.

I'm Taking a Little Trip to the Moon
by Félix Morisseau-Leroy

(Translated from Haitian Creole by Jack Hirschman and Boadiba)

I'm taking a little trip to the moon
I've had it with life down here
Around here everything's sure hard
I'm on my way to the moon
They tell me up there there's no such thing
As good and bad people
There's no stupid guys or wise guys
No city or mountain people
All people are people on the moon
All people speak one language
I can't hack it on earth anymore
Civilization's exhausting me
Civilization's scaring me
Wherever I turn I see
People killing people
Civilization was finished a long time age
People there have forgotten that awful time
I'm taking a little trip to the moon
They tell me there's no king there
No county sheriff
No justice of the peace
No bailiff
No monseignor
I just gotta make that voyage to the moon
They tell me it's beautiful there, just beautiful
Nights are clearer than daytime
There's no time for a guy to sleep
No days for work or for play
Nights you watch the earth aglow
Brighter than the sun
And stars as close as fireflies on trees
There's no heat
No cold
No misery
No mud
Everyone's forgotten about war
Forgotten about civilization
The way the old forget colic
Measles and teething
I'm gonna live on the moon
Evenings I'll tell the kids stories
I'll tell them that the whole time the earth turns
There's a huge woman
An immense female werewolf
They call civilization
Crushing young men like ants.

From Wikipedia:

Félix Morisseau-Leroy (also known as Feliks Moriso-Lewa) was born on March 13, 1912. He was a Haitian writer who wrote poetry and plays in Haitian Créole, the first significant writer to do so. By 1961 he succeeded in having Créole recognized as an official language of Haiti, after expanding its teaching in schools and use in creative literature. Morisseau also published works about Haitian Créole and Haitian French literature. He worked internationally, encouraging the development of national literature in post-colonial Ghana and Senegal. In 1981 he settled in Miami, Florida, where he was influential in uniting the Haitian community around Créole and encouraged its study in academia. He died on September 5, 1998.

mon Noir et mon Blanc
by Albert Morisseau-Leroy

Ma peau a la noirceur de mon blanc
mon cœur a la blancheur de mon noir
mon esprit s'élèvera toujours plus haut la haut ou tout est blanc
mon mental c'est mon noir qui l'a forgé dans du métal
elles adorent la douceur que m'offre mon blanc
mais la virilité de mon noir ne manque pas pour autant
mon corps a forcement des atouts de noir
pour mon blanc cela reste difficile a croire
mes anges gauche ne sont pas toujours d'accord avec ceux de droite
c'est mon noir et mon blanc qui se batte.
Sur le piano de ma vie
ma noir toujours a la bourre joue les notes rapide
ma blanche joue des accords pour rattraper et prendre de l'avance sur le temps
dans mes partitions de blues toujours plus de noirs que de blanc
je verrais toujours la vie en noir sur blanc
je ferais toujours mes rêves en blanc sur noir
hiver comme été toujours plus bronzé que mes blancs et plus clair que mes noirs
mon yin sans cesse a la recherche de mon yang
de jour comme de nuits brille ma peau miel caramel
je suis un arc en ciel culturel
quelque soit la couleur de l'ex ou de l'intérieur
je suis un équilibre de tes peurs.

Danny Glover Directs Toussaint L’ouverture’s Story

Editors Note: Cappuccino Soul published this article initially on February 14, 2007. I'm still waiting to hear when this film, about one of Haiti's finest sons, will be released.

Danny Glover makes his directorial debut with Toussaint, a film about the life of Haitian revolutionary leader Toussaint L’ouverture. Filming for the epic story is scheduled to start in late April or early May with a sizzling cast including Don Cheadle as Toussaint, Mos Def, Angela Bassett, Chiwetel Ejiofor and others. This film is scheduled to be released sometime in 2009.

Written by Vijay Balakrishnan and Glover’s producing partner, Joslyn Barnes, Toussaint will be shot in Mozambique and South Africa. The movie tells the story of the Haitian Revolution (1791–1804) and the life of L’ouverture, who established Haiti as the first independent black Republic by leading a successful slave uprising against the French, Spanish and British imperial armies. Although L’ouverture was eventually captured and imprisoned by the French, his name is still uttered with pride by many Haitians and other Africans in the diaspora.

In her play, For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf, Ntozake Shange puts these words in the mouth of Lady in Brown, a young girl who raves about her newfound hero, Toussaint L’ouverture.

(excerpt from For Colored Girls…)

Lady in Brown

i knew I wasn’t sposedta
but I ran inta the ADULT READING ROOM
& came across
TOUSSAINT ...

TOUSSAINT waz a blk man a Negro like mama say
who refused to be a slave
& he spoke French
& didn’t low no white man to tell him nothing
not napolean
not maximillien
not robespierre

TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE
waz the beginning uv reality for me
in the summer contest for
who colored child can read
15 books in three weeks
i won & raved abt TOUSSAINT L’OUVERTURE
at the afternoon ceremony

waz disqualified
cuz Toussaint
belonged in the ADULT READING ROOM
& I cried
& carried dead Toussaint home in the book
he was dead & livin to me
cuz TOUSSAINT & them
they held the citadel gainst the French
wid the spirits of ol dead Africans from outta the ground

Haiti: Feeding Our Children the Sun

In honor of the resilient and brave people of Haiti, here's a poem by a master poet and lover of her people everywhere, Ntozake Shange.

Bocas: A Daughter's Geography
by Ntozake Shange

i have a daughter/ mozambique
i have a son/ angola
our twins
salvador & johannesburg/ cannot speak
the same language
but we fight the same old men/ in the new world

we are so hungry for the morning
we're trying to feed our children the sun
but a long time ago/ we boarded ships/ locked in
depths of seas our spirits/ kisst the earth
on the atlantic side of nicaragua costa rica
our lips traced the edges of cuba puerto rico
charleston & savannah/ in haiti
we embraced &
made children of the new world
but old men spit on us/ shackled our limbs
but for a minute
our cries are the panama canal/ the yucatan
we poured thru more sea/ more ships/ to manila
ah ha we're back again
everybody in manila awready speaks spanish

the old men sent for the archbishop of canterbury
"can whole continents be excommunicated?"
"what wd happen to the children?"
"wd their allegiance slip over the edge?"
"don't worry bout lumumba/ don't even think bout
ho chi minh/ the dead cant procreate"
so say the old men
but I have a daughter/ la habana
I have a son/ guyana
our twins
santiago & brixton/ cannot speak
the same language
yet we fight the same old men

the ones who think helicopters rhyme with hunger
who think patrol boats can confiscate a people
the ones whose dreams are full of none of our
children
they see mae west & harlow in whittled white cafes
near managua/ listening to primitive rhythms in
jungles near pétionville
with bejeweled benign natives
ice skating in abidjan
unaware of the rest of us in chicago
all the dark urchins
rounding out the globe/ primitively whispering
the earth is not flat old men

there is no edge
no end to the new world
cuz I have a daughter/ trinidad
I have a son/ san juan
our twins
capetown & palestine/ cannot speak the same
language/ but we fight the same old men
the same men who thought the earth waz flat
go on over the edge/ go on over the edge old men
you'll see us in luanda, or the rest of us
in chicago
rounding out the morning/
we are feeding our children the sun

From A DAUGHTER'S GEOGRAPHY (St. Martin's Press, 1983)

Please click here to see photos of Haiti and the aftermath of the earthquake. Also, click on the links that show "how to help."

No Health Insurance Declaration

My friend Annette came up with a clever idea for people, like me, who don't have health insurance. She said, in lieu of presenting a health insurance card to providers when we need medical attention and can't afford to pay, we should present a "No Health Insurance Declaration" card that says:

Although I do not have health insurance,
I hope that you will still remain humane.

I think it's an excellent idea and may try it.

Gigi the Snow Angel

Gigi enjoyed all the snow she found in Delaware!

Plantains: A Taste of Ghana in My Kitchen

One of my students from Ghana recently reminded me that plantains, a nutritious and delicious treat, can be cooked in a variety of ways. She likes to boil her plantains, but I like to fry mine. I prefer to wait until the plantains are very soft and almost black before I cut them in circular pieces and fry them until they are dark brown and slightly crispy. (Yummy!) My student, B, likes to boil her plantains when they are greenish yellow. But I do know another woman from Ghana who cuts her plantains in large pieces and fries them. I guess the phrase "to each, his own" applies to the ways people like to eat this exotic banana.

My friend Annette, who is from Jamaica, taught me how to make porridge with very green bananas when my daughter was still an infant. It was one of the few things Gigi would eat when she was very young. To make the porridge, you peel a very green plantain and cut it into pieces. Blend the slices in a blender, along with a bit of water. Pour the pureed liquid in a pot and add sweetened condense milk, a touch of vanilla, and a bit of nutmeg (first test to see if your child's stomach can handle the nutmeg.) Bring the ingredients to a slow boil on your stovetop, stirring occasionally. When the liquid thickens, remove the pot from the heat. Place the plantain porridge in a bowl for your child and serve when it has cooled a bit. I'm sure your baby will love this concoction as much as Gigi did. It's a great way to give your child the necessary iron and potassium he or she needs. (I ate a lot of it myself and was quite satisfied!)

Plantains are very popular in various parts of Africa, Asia, India and Latin American countries. They are close relatives of bananas, but are longer, have thicker skins, and are typically eaten cooked instead of raw. The skin of plantains ranges in color from green and yellow to brownish black, while their flesh varies from cream to salmon-colored. South American Indians boiled the plantain peels and drank this liquid as a remedy for colds.

Pick up a few the next time you go to your grocery store (or the nearest International food store.) The sweet, exotic taste of this delicious fruit is sure to grow on you!

Despite Harsh Conditions

Every being that lives, grows.
Each will grow despite harsh
conditions and beautify its
surroundings.

Like a tundra bloom,
the most striking and beautiful
flower is the one that blossoms
despite frigid, brutal conditions.

-- Judith Garrett Garrison and
Scott Sheperd

Gigi on a Saturday

Respect Your Hair

"Trust the universe and respect your hair." -- Bob Marley

Hair Braiders at Work

Two school boys plait the hair of a school girl in Kijabe, Kenya.

This shot is priceless! Oh, to see this scene on an American playground or park with African-American girls and boys. We not only need to pass down this African tradition of hair braiding to our girls, let's teach our boys to do it too! Think of the value this would add to the lives of little girls who would have the privilege of getting their hair braided (plaited) by their brothers and fathers.

Talk about the love of a brother!

Photo Source: Africa Knows