Being an Immigrant

If there’s anyone who knows what it feels like to be an alien, it would be an immigrant.  I mean an immigrant immigrant; the one who landed here first generation on a plane, not a descendant of immigrants. Imagine the feeling of being on the harsh end of a xenophobe’s insults, or the worse: being asked “innocent” questions about your homeland.

Wyclef Jean? President?

When I heard the news that Wyclef Jean joined the race for presidency in Haiti, I said, “Kisa? N’ap tout mouri! (What? We’re all going to die!)”

Not that I have anything against Wyclef.  As a matter of fact, I enjoy his music, and I think he has become a superhero of Haiti, a tad bit like what Bob Marley did for Jamaica.