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5991: RE: a poem, regarding Ayisyen and photographers (fwd)
I wanted to share this poem . It moves me deeply and seems appropriate to
share given some of the recent postings. I imagine many of you on the list
are familiar with it. If anyone wants the original Kreyol, email me and
i'll send it on.
I feel it to be an invitation to see anew. To realize the awareness of those
whose stories we tell, and begin to tell them differently. I am all for
telling the truth....but that is both the ugly and the beauty. For me, Haiti
is a place of paradox, teaching us to hold the whole. When I take/share
photos and tell my stories.I strive to tell the whole story, the story of the
strength and beauty that I've seen amidst the poverty and the hardship. I
look to show the dignity, and I hold the words of this poet, who I believe
speaks for many.
Enjoy your Thanksgiving,
Pa pran pòtre m, touris By Felix Maurisso Le Roy
Tourist, don’t take my portrait
Don’t take my portrait tourist,
I’m too ugly,
I’m too dirty
I’m too skinny
Don’t take my portrait white/foreigner (blan),
Mister Eastman won’t be happy
I’m too ugly
Your camera will break
I’m too dirty.
I’m too black.
Blan, your companion isn’t happy.
I’m too ugly,
I’ll explode your camera.
Don’t take my portrait, tourist.
Leave me in peace, blan.
Don’t take a picture of my donkey,
This donkey carries too much.
This donkey is too small.
This donkey doesn’t eat.
Don’t take a picture of my animal.
Tourist, don’t take a picture of this house.
My house is a straw house.
Don’t take a picture of my hut.
My hut is a house of earth.
The house is too broken.
Go take pictures of the palace
go take a picture of the Bisantnè (a renovated area of PaP).
Don’t take a picture of my garden
I don’t have a plow
I don’t have a car/truck
I don’t have a tractor
Tourist, my feet are on the earth,
My clothes are too torn.
I go, blacks don’t look at whites
but, the tourist looks at my hair.
Your camera isn’t accustomed to my hair (style)
Your hair stylists aren’t accustomed to my hair
Tourist don’t take my picture
You don’t understand my appearance
You don’t understand anything
of my affairs, tourist
‘gi mi fay sens" (give me 5 cents)
and go make your way, tourist.