There is nothing like being an Ayitian-American (aka Haitian, pronounced "A-ee-syan"). Absolutely nothing can compare. It is a blessing to be known as a young Ayitian woman, and able to be identified as one. I am so proud to be a child of such a beautiful culture. Even as I write this, Google is trying to correct me and tell me "Did you mean: haitian". No, I don't mean "Haitian". I mean Ayitian. While there is no action hurt in the word "Haitian", "Haitian" is not who the people are; they are Ayitian. The people of Ayiti. A country where devastation, cruelty and hurt has happened, where the people are challenged daily with the ever evolving times, where the country has taken hit after hit and they made it! They are Ayitians, not "Haitians".
They are the people of the land, those who pass by and their cousins, Dominicans. They are the flowers and fruits of the soil. They are the sun and moon, and the stars blazing in their eyes. They are the fruit of their ancestors' labors and blood that watered the soil with their roots imbedded into the depths of the earth. They are the warriors of their revolution, the tillers of their time and the carvers of their history. With each layer of chocolate melanin on their skin, they grow old in their love and loyalty to their country. To be born Ayitian, is to be born wonderous and blessed.
Ayitian history is not only rich in it's lessons, but markers of what happens when a people once down-trotted and bulldozed by "colonizers" and "conquerors", by "allies", can and will come together as the unified people they are and overthrow their chains and become a true Ayitian nation once again. Although the native language has diminished some with few, if any knowing their true words, Ayitians have taken, not only their land and freedom, but their language as well. They made their Creole. Some have called it broken French or "Frenglish", because they simply did not understand the beauty and power of Creole (ashamedly, and admittedly as I did). Creole isn't a slang language. It's not a "commoner's" tongue. It is an ever-present symbol of the struggles and victories of the Ayitian people. Ayitians did what no other country has ever done. Without dependence on an other country, these people overthrew their conquerors and established a nation with an Ayitian president. Then proceeded to take what little of their language, the tongue of the natives, les Taino Arawakans, they remembered and transformed the languages, French, Spanish and English, mixed it with Arawakan and created the language Ayitian Creole. While they are most certainly not the first country to transform their language, their Creole is not one they ever shy from.
Ayiti is rich. We may not have American wealth, but we have history. We may not have a big island to boast about, but we have people, our people and our land. We may not be able to afford the nouveau riche five star Turkish bath and spa, but we don't need one. We have an ocean full of food that's so clear and the sun which warms the depths. We have food so good, what's a delicacy to you is our midday snack. We have music that moves the soul, your feet and your hormones all wrapped in one song. We have Karnival, lambi, cabrit, grios, pickles, Tres Royale, Haitian cakes, patties and bread. We have tablet of all kinds, we have papaya juice and our fish? To die for. We have our Nainaines and Parenns, tatis and uncles, our sisters and our brothers from all over the island. Our hearts beat like a drum in and above the earth, in and for each other. Ayiti is rich. Not because we have money dripping from our Versace purses and wallets or because we can buy a tub of KFC every day, but because despite all, we still have our people, our culture, our pride as Ayitians. Because despite all we are Ayitians.
