Sunday, March 22, 2009
For all the time I've lived in Haiti, I should be a better speaker of Haitian Creole. But my Creole is broken at best.
I was able to communicate with my son Luke, who was three-years-old when we spent seven months in Haiti awaiting the finalization of his adoption. And I am able to talk some with 30-year-old Heurese, who is currently living with us. I seem to be able to make myself understood to her, but it often takes me awhile to fully comprehend what she is saying. I say, "Mwen pa comprend" a lot.
I think Heurese understands and speaks more English then we realize. Between my limited Creole and John's fluent Creole, she isn't having to speak as much English as she would with most American families.
To our shame, Luke remembers none of his Creole; he can't even pronounce the words properly. I am hoping that with Heurese here, he will pick up a little of his native language.
Speaking of Heurese, John conducted an interview with her that is posted on his blog. It's very interesting and tells a lot about what life is like for poor Haitians.