Haitian People: Let Us Recover Our Dignity

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By Michel-Ange Cadet Haiti Chery Translated from the French by Dady Chery for Haiti Chery Several Haitian cities rose up under strong tension in December 2010. The sky was black with smoke. The burning tires, the deafening noise of protesters in … Continue reading

Peuple Haitien: Retrouvons Notre Dignité

BlueSkyzStudios-HaitianWoman

Par Michel-Ange Cadet Haiti Chery Plusieurs villes de la République d’Haïti se levaient sous fortes tensions en décembre 2010. Le ciel de certaines villes était noir de fumée. Des pneus brûlaient, des bruits assourdissants de manifestants dans un commun refrain de protestations … Continue reading

Humanitarian Imperialism: Aid as a Trojan Horse
Dady Chery

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By Dady Chery Haiti Chery We lived sustainably, with color and panache Long before the word sustainable became fashionable, before Scott and Helen Nearing experimented with non-establishment living in the 1930s and concluded that their project had failed because it … Continue reading

Le festin des dieux: Lien du Vodou à l’agriculture d’Haïti et aux ancêtres
Dady Chery

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Par Dady Chery, Haiti Chery | News Junkie Post. La religion et la culture haïtienne sont intimement liées à l’agriculture locale, à tel point que les cérémonies de Vaudou sont habituellement appelées manje lwa: festin des dieux. Nos lwa (dieux, esprits, divinités) doivent être nourris.

Food for the Gods: Link of Vodou to Haiti’s Agriculture, a Legacy of the Ancestors
Dady Chery

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By Dady Chery Haiti Chery Haitian religion and culture are so linked to local agriculture that Vodou ceremonies are routinely called manje lwa: food for the gods. Our lwa (gods, spirits, deities) must be fed. They are not eternal and … Continue reading

Homage to My Mothers: Restavek, Vodou, and Haiti’s Stolen Children
Dady Chery

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  By Dady Chery Haiti Chery “There are no orphans in Haiti!” After a long silence at the other end of the line, my friend Jordan murmurs: “Come again?” He must be thinking I lost my senses. I realize how … Continue reading