Haitian-Born Author Dady Chery Discusses ‘We have Dared to Be Free’ With Anita Stewart – Part I

The following interview was originally broadcast on Wise Women Media on August 5, 2015 and later rebroadcast as a three-part series on Challenging the Rhetoric, on August 26-28. For the audio for the first part of the series, scroll to … Continue reading →

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

Par Dady Chery, Haiti Chery. 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.

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Francois Duvalier Interview in English, 1968

By Alan Whicker and Frank Pocklington, BBC, ITV, Yorkshire Television | Commentary by Dady Chery, Haiti Chery. Selected scenes of 1968 Haiti, plus a remarkably extensive and candid interview, in English, between a quite fearless British reporting team and Francois Duvalier.

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Haitian Hot Cocoa

By Dady Chery, Haiti Chery. In Haiti, a freshly baked roll with a cup of hot cocoa is a typical dinner. We have the Aztecs and Mayans to thank for the elaborate process for manufacturing chocolate from the seeds of Theobroma cacao: “food of the gods.”

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Wilson Bigaud: Everyday Haitian Life ‘Bathed in a Golden Light’

By Wilson Bigaud | Commentary by Dady Chery, Haiti Chery. Although Bigaud spent most of his life about 40 miles southwest of the capital in the village of Vialet, near the town of Petit-Goâve. He liked to walk in the countryside, hike little trails, talk to villagers, and return home to paint his day.

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Three Poems By Rene Depestre | Trois poèmes de René Depestre

By Rene Depestre. The Poet, The Final Degree of Exile, Consciences in Bloom: three offerings from the poetry collection In a State of Poetry (En Etat de Poesie, Les Editeurs Francais Reunis, Paris, 1980). (French, with English | French bio)

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Poem From My Mother | Poème de ma mère

“Le baiser d’une mère” | Commentary by Dady Chery, Haiti Chery. Before I could speak or even breathe, my mother, with a broad smile, read this poem to me. I copy it here from a version she wrote from memory. Based on the style, some of the phrases, and her fondness for Oswald Durand, I think it is his. (French | English)

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