1937

My next assignment is based upon the book Krik? Krak! By: Edwidge Danticat. Like my first assignment, this one will also require background research on the author to unveil some of the mystery surrounding her writing. Certain things come to mind when I think of Haiti: slightly ignorant voodoo practices, lawlessness and corruption within the country and government, Papa Doc/Baby Doc, and Wyclef Jean recently running for president - let's see if there is any of that in here....

          The story 1937 begins with the storyteller revealing that her mom is in prison in Port-au-Prince. She was dreading the very thoughts of having to make another visit. I find this to be somewhat strange considering the fact that she is reluctant to see her mother. Hmmm. Next I see “The roads to the city were covered with sharp pebbles only half buried in the thick dust.” I take the combination of her reluctant feelings, a city in shambles, and my knowledge of the significance of the year 1937 to the Haitians to surmise the condition of this brutal war-torn area. She carries a Madonna statue with her to meet her mother. The statue is known to shed tears and plays an important symbol in the story. It provides hope and meaning and consolation to her mother. “At times, she seemed happier to see the Madonna than she was to see me,” she remarks as she hands the statue to her mother. She immediately begins to break down and sob after taking possession of the statue, obviously linking some profound meaning to this statue. Her mother, along with the other prisoners, are all there for the same reasons. “They were said to have been seen at night rising from the ground like birds on fire. A loved one, a friend, or a neighbor had accused them of causing the death of a child.” Through this wacky accusation, the reader can see how prevalent voodoo was in the Haitian culture. Her mother was labeled as a witch and sent to prison.

            The narrator then reflects back on a pilgrimage her and her mother took when she was five years old to the Massacre River. Here her mother prays and tells her daughter that this was where the both of them escaped Trujillo in 1937 when he ordered the killing of 20,000 Haitian men, women, and children on the Dominican side of the river. The mother of the narrator’s mother was killed there. The surviving women became known as daughters of the river. “At least I gave birth to my daughter on the night that my mother was take from me….you came out at the right moment to take my mother’s place.”

            The story begins to conclude with the narrator meeting another ‘daughter of the river.’ She comes to reveal the death of Manman. This adds slight mystery because her prediction is right. They go to prison to watch the burning of the bodies. Her new friend says, “Sister, life is never lost, another one always comes up to replace the last.” This provides much needed hope in a world that is so bleak. She clutches the Madonna statue close to her and she can smell the scent of her mother. The Madonna is an important symbol because it represents a sign of hope. Just as the narrator’s mother had the narrator as a replacement, the statue now serves as a similar purpose. It is also interesting that it is a ‘Madonna’ statue considering its Christian roots and having much to do with the voodoo practiced in Haiti. This writing certainly is steeped in Haiti's history.

          The passing of these atrocities committed BY humanity TO humanity is DEFINATELY imperative to prevent it from happening again. The years have been cruel and wicked to the Haitians and they have clearly suffered. Raising awareness and exposing the inhumanities in Haiti is a step in the right direction. Up until the recent earthquake in Haiti, I didn't know any Haitian history. Then I read this article about 'Baby Doc' and how he had been exhiled after a failed and corrupt rule as president of Haiti. After the earthquake that left Haiti in ruin and despair, Baby Doc, decides that now is the appropriate time to return (for what? steal power back? what makes him think he will be welcomed?). Finding all this very strange I researched further and found some information on Papa and Baby Doc that was almost impossible to believe. Here are two examples:

"Duvalier's (Papa Doc) leadership becomes more extreme. He fosters a personality cult, exploiting his reputation as a sorcerer and portraying himself as semidivine, the embodiment of the Haitian nation, a voodoo Jesus Christ."

"Jean-Claude (Baby Doc) leaves behind an impoverished and ruined country. Well over half of Haiti's workers are unemployed. Over 80% of Haitians are illiterate. Almost a third of Haitian children die before their fifth birthday. Life expectancy is 53 years. Per capita income is US$300 a year."

(There is much more. Look for yourself)

More Poetry

Poetry is like my Achilles heal!

In my second approach to analyze the hidden meanings of poetry, I tried a different method from the first. Here is what my Rosetta stone reveals in my attempts to decode this particular poem:

For Mohammed on the Mountain

By: Naomi Shihab Nye

I found this poem to be most interesting considering the fact that she has never met or even spoken to her reclusive uncle. He is somewhat an enigma to the family. Nye takes what little she does know about her uncle and slowly pieces together a puzzle that delicately fits into the context of her own life. Uncle Mohammed is very important to Nye and she feels the need to communicate with him, even if this is the only way. The mysteriousness of her uncle speaks to her at night and asks if she can “See?” in an “I told you so” sort of way. She can see and she can feel all the pain, hurt, and suffering in the world. She can also see why her uncle has made his certain choices. Her uncle represents the roots she has in her native land; she fights to hold on to these roots. He didn’t flee his homeland in 1948 and upon principle, never would. “And when he stirs the thick coffee and grinds the cardamom see you think he feels like an American?” She pleads for her uncle’s understanding and stresses that her father will never lose his Middle Eastern identity. He simply had to seek refuge for the sake of a better future for his family. Her uncle chose a different path and retreated from the entire world; a world that was chaotic and whose principles had been compromised. He retreated to a more simple, devout lifestyle in the mountains. “I have made myself a quiet place in the swirl. I think you would like it,” she tells him. Nye wants her uncle to know that she has managed to live by her own virtuous, wholesome, and pious code; untarnished by the evil and wickedness so easily found in this world. She has learned how to open her heart completely and live life for the right reasons. Just as Mohammed had climbed his own mountain, Nye, and her friends alike, also climb their own respective mountains; seeking refuge to simple and humble lives. She expects that someday, through and because of their core values and principles, they will be united at the end of their journeys.

February 3

Ok. First things first. I need to understand the poet and find out exactly what stimulated and inspired her to write her poetry. What made her tick? So I read the Intro and did a little research in the library; hands on, the good old-fashioned way. We talked about it a little in class but that’s not going to be nearly enough. I need to dig it up myself. Keeping my research in mind I took one particular intriguing poem head-on and begged it to let me inside. I wanted to unlock this poem. This is how I have to read poetry or else it makes no sense to me. I need to pick it apart word for word. So if nothing else, I thought maybe this would offer some interesting insight from the unique perspective that is my own. Here is how the poem spoke to me personally:

Two Countries

By: Naomi Shihab Nye

(This is what it feels like to be a part of two countries; being uprooted from the land of my descendants and brought somewhere else. It leaves an empty feeling. I’m just an external skin and there is hollowness and a void inside of me that can’t be filled.)

Skin remembers vividly the tenderness of being touched.  It’s cohesion with other human beings. It is one of our most basic and fundamental needs. The girl remembers painfully how it feels not being touched for so long; a week easily feels like a year. “A gray tunnel of singleness,” is lonely because there is nothing and no one else here. She is a beautiful and unique feather; a piece that became separated from her great breed of species and mistakenly swept away. She was swept away by people who didn’t realize what they were doing because she is not measly dust. She was a very unique type of feather and would have contributed a great deal to the bird as a whole if it were able to stay attached.

The skin continued, however, to eat and walk and sleep by itself. It was still able to carry on its existence to a certain degree. It even began to learn how to wave and “raise a see-you-later hand” to the country that she has been extracted from and say, “It’s better this way. See you later and good riddance.”

But skin felt it was never seen because it was just skin; superficial. There is no depth to just an exterior skin. It is not whole or complete with something missing inside. Never known in its entirety like fully mapped out land. “Nose like a city. Hip like a city.” They are like cities. Cities are important trademarks of broad and defined areas. There are some resemblances she inherited and she is somewhat unique to her homeland, such as her nose and her hip. She has partial connections. She longs for a full connection, both inside and out; beautiful on the outside like the gleaming dome of a mosque and rich on the inside like corridors filled with cinnamon and rope.

The skin alone had hope, though. Inherent among humans is the ability for hope. Hope helps heal places that are scarred and makes a road/establishes a path that helps you get away from the hurt. “Love means you breathe in two countries.” Her family took that road and got away from the hurt. To seek future love and happiness meant that they dislocate themselves and breath air from a second country.

 Humans remember, though, also inherently, poignant specific pleasantries like the soft touch of silk and uncommon spiny grass. She carries with her these specifics and knows how she should feel. She doesn’t connect with it from the inside of her like she should; instead they are carried with her like postcards externally in her secret pocket.

Even now when she is not alone (because she has a new country and a new culture to embrace and be a part) she remembers the feeling of being alone and how awful it feels. She is grateful that her only disconnect is only as small as it is and not any bigger. She also thanks God or something “larger” that travelers such as her father uprooted himself from his native land and everything he loved for better opportunity for his family.

 

There is no Frigate like a Book

 

To take us Lands away

 

Nor any Coursers like a Page

 

Of prancing Poetry

 

This Traverse may the poorest take

 

Without oppress of Toll

 

How frugal is the Chariot

 

That bears the Human Soul

 

           -Emily Dickinson

 

*Before I discovered this was a poem, I saw the first couple of lines, "There is no Frigate like a Book to take us Lands away," used as a quote somewhere. I really enjoyed and more importantly, wholeheartedly agreed with the delightful statement. I wrote it down in a pocket notebook I keep just in case I could use it again at some point down the road. I'm glad I did.