Eating My History

       Being a first generation Canadian, I was constantly battling my mother about what we would have for dinner; Example: I always complained about how I hated rice because "its all we eat", and wasn't afraid to talk about my disdain for okra because, "who the hell eats that anyway?" I used to always talk to my friends about how I didn't like the food my mom made and always telling my mom to make 'normal' food which other kids were eating. I was so wrapped up in fitting in and eating what the other kids at school were eating, that I started to ignore my roots. I guess I forgot how lucky I was—and I am lucky for many reasons.

         My family is from Haiti--a country located on an island in the Caribbean. This means that my whole life, I have had Caribbean food at my disposal! Unfortunately, amongst my selfishness, I didn't realize the negative affects this had not only on myself, but also my mother. Since my sister and I didn't like eating Haitian food my mom stopped making it.  For years, she too ate the food we ate--spaghetti, chicken, potatoes or Shepherds pie. I guess I didn't realize that in a sense we were erasing her memories, and her culture. It wasn't after I entered university, and was self sufficient, that my mother started cooking exclusively for herself, and started making Haitian food on a regular basis. Eventually—due to my non existent cooking skills—I caught myself sticking my fingers in her food, grabbing a spoonful of rice and peas, or grabbing a chunk of 'Morue a Banane' (Salted Cod with Plaintaine)--I guess I could say, I forgot how good the stuff was!! I was so caught up in fitting into a cultural homogeneity, that I forgot about the awesome food I was missing out on. Not only was I missing out on the food, but I was also missing out on the history of the food; what it meant to my parents; what it meant to me; and possibly what it would mean to my future children. I forgot how interesting it was to learn the history of the food—for example, a lot of Haitian food derived from the days of colonialism, where slaves were stuck eating whatever they found, or whatever was available to them. At the time, pig was the animal that was mostly available to slaves, and that's why Haitians include a lot of pork into their meals. Learning this not only blows my minds to pieces, but it also shows me how my ancestors survived turmoil and political unrest, and  how—through food—they survived (or tried to survive), which is why I am here today.

        I am Canadian, and living in a place where there are hardly any other Haitians, so it's important for me to remember my roots. I now understand that through food, I am able to keep my culture alive and have the ability to pass that on, not only to my future children, but as well to those who are close to me. I hope that one day, I'll have the courage to cook Haitian food for friends (if they sign a waiver first), and show them part of my families history. I have learned that food is an important way of learning history and developing the future, and so I take it upon myself to learn the dishes which my mom cooks....

.....even though she says I am a hot mess in the kitchen.....

I only hope that my children will take advantage of the opportunity to eat their history, and will avoid being brats about food like I was!

                                                     Griot, with Riz A Pois & Banane Peze.