I picked up my friend Tatiana this morning on the way to school, and even her grandma told me—while I was speed-kissing the rest of Tatiana’s family—to tell Mom that she was praying for her. I’d run in to use the bathroom, and when I walked past the kitchen, there sat Tatiana’s parents, great-aunt, and a pair of grandparents. Do you know the most efficient way to greet a roomful of Haitians without offending anyone? Three words: pucker and pat. The first time I’d ever come over, Tatiana had warned me that her relatives were really snippy about manners and wouldn’t like me if I just waved at them like yon ti ameriken. I followed her suggestion to kiss the air and give each of her relatives’ cheeks a little bump. In Tatiana’s words: you too would find a way to be as efficient as possible after years of having to greet every adult you run into after church.
It’s weird. Everyone groups me and Tatiana together at school because we’re the only two Haitian American girls in our grade, but our life experiences are way different. Sure, I speak Creole, but I can’t mimic a Haitian accent the way she can. She’s the only girl of five children. She’s on a scholarship and I’m not. She goes to church like it’s her job, while I can count the number of times I’ve been to a Haitian church on one hand that’s had the pinkie cut off.
If I’m being honest, there are times when I don’t feel as Haitian as Tatiana. Would my Zoe card be revoked if anyone found out that I’d been pretending to know who Tonton Bicha was? And that I’d never seen I Love You Anne? There’ve been so many times when I’ve felt left out of the Culture and I think it’s because it’s been me and Dad for most of my life. And whenever I go to Tatiana’s house and see her with all those cousins and brothers and relatives, I can’t help but wish I had that too.
Can you imagine a house filled with two to three variations of me, your favorite niece? Heaven, I know. But in all seriousness, it would’ve been great to have grown up with someone who knew all my secrets. Someone to pass the time with when Dad dozed off in front of the TV after taking another shift at work and Mom missed a third scheduled phone call in a week because of another breaking news story. That’s not to say that I don’t appreciate the moments we get to chat, Tati. It’s just that you’re so far away and Mom’s always so busy. And sometimes I want someone besides Dad to talk to over dinner. Don’t tell him I said that.
You know what’s funny though? I shared all of this with Tatiana when we got in the car and she revealed how she was jealous of me for living in such a big house with only my “chill dad who is always working.” And then after eating a mysterious fortune cookie one Friday night, we switched bodies, spent the next few days learning to love what we had, and turned back to our old selves wiser than we were before.
Oops—Señora Ortega viene a tomar mi teléfono.
Bye!
Alaine
P.S. ThankyouforthepeanutsDadsmakingabrittle—
Saturday, November 21
From: Estelle Dubois
To: Alaine Beauparlant
Subject: Re: ¿Cómo Estás Tía?
Chérie,
I hope that emailing me in class does not become a habit. You should be focused on your lessons, young lady. Although you should never feel that you aren’t Haitian enough. It’s in your blood.
But to answer your questions, things at PATRON PAL are wonderful. Thank you for asking. We’re getting our affairs in order to pitch to a few investors for a new round of funding. We just confirmed that we will have a new intern from Stanford joining our ranks for the spring semester. We’re also working on an upcoming feature with a major media outlet that will highlight all the money we’ve been able to raise through the app to benefit the children of Haiti.
In regards to your mother, yes, we are all allowed to have “brain farts” as you say. However, it’s understandable for people to be concerned. She is admired by so many; they will notice any change in her behavior. Have you spoken with Celeste about how you’re feeling? Also, you might be onto something when you mention the family curse. I know your mom doesn’t like discussing it, but I think she should. Bring it up to her. Sooner than later.
I’m happy you enjoyed the peanuts I sent. Tony Juste’s pistach are the best. I’ve probably paid a year’s tuition worth of school for each of his kids with the amount I buy.
Also, don’t worry. I won’t tell Jules a thing.
Bisous,
E
——
Estelle Dubois
Haitian Minister of Tourism
CEO of PATRON PAL
L’Union Fait La Force
Tuesday, November 24
The Life and Times of Alaine Beauparlant
Dad was going to kill me.
A decent number of days had gone by since I’d declared that the Beauparlant household would be absent from Career Day. At first, Dad was a little mopey, but he eventually made a full recovery.
But I was on the phone with Mom tonight enduring our third awkward silence in a twelve-minute span after she, yet again, stopped me from reading out the best (and worst) online viewer comments from Sunday’s episode. I didn’t know how she stayed above all that. I told her that if I were in her shoes, I’d probably spend a third of each show just responding to everyone who flattered or angered me enough. She said I “had a lot of growing up to do,” which is always fun to hear.
I thought about bringing up the family curse like my aunt had suggested to give us something to talk about, but I knew there was no point. Tati Estelle had been blathering on about this curse for as long as I could remember. But she never got further than saying that we had one, because my mom insisted that she not fill my head with such nonsense.
Anyway, I didn’t know what else to discuss, so I threw out the following just to say something:
“Um, did I mention there’s a Career Day at school coming up?”
“Really? I didn’t know they did those in high school.” She jumped on my conversational life raft and didn’t let go. “When is it? I’ll have to check my schedule, but we can certainly make this work—”
“Oh. Don’t worry about it. I know you’re busy. Plus, the event is extra credit and won’t affect my grade,” I said as the thoughtful person that I am.
She paused.
“Do you not want me there?”
Jeez, not this again. She got offended if I didn’t invite her to something and then felt guilty when she couldn’t make it. I didn’t hold it against her, but I would rather just avoid the whole routine.
“I told Dad he didn’t need to come either. Seriously, it’s fine. I’d love for you to do it, but I don’t want to inconvenience you...”