Since the beginning of this year my mind has constantly been drawn to the past. Memories of living in Haïti are catching up with my present; and I must admit that I have been repressing those feelings for nearly nine years- which is since my arrival to the USA to pursuie a higher education. You might naturally wonder the reason(s) of such repressions. Well, one must have lived in a foreign land and in distant places to better understand such complexed emotions.
One of the traditions of my family involved my father's early-morning-herbal-teas.
You had an ache, he had a relief answer. In the crack of dawn the household was filled with the intense aroma of natural herbal tea. Every morning, like clockwork, the silhouette of my father bringing a fuming cup of skillfully-made tea appeared on the doorstep of our bedrooms.
Needless to say that we did not look forward to it because some of them turned out to be quite bitter, but 'good-for-you' type concoctions. However, we drank this health promoting liquid with the promise that we will have homemade sweet confections by the end of the week- which promises were seldomly honored, but we fell for it every time.
Now, this once dreaded tradition has become imbeded in the very part of my being. Morning and night I must enjoy my cup of tea. It is part of my life and I will be sure to carry on this tradition.
Since the beginning of this year my mind has constantly been drawn to the past. Memories of living in Haïti are catching up with my present; and I must admit that I have been repressing those feelings for nearly nine years- which is since my arrival to the USA to pursuie a higher education. You might naturally wonder the reason(s) of such repressions. Well, one must have lived in a foreign land and in distant places to better understand such complexed emotions.
One of the traditions of my family involved my father's early-morning-herbal-teas.
You had an ache, he had a relief answer. In the crack of dawn the household was filled with the intense aroma of natural herbal tea. Every morning, like clockwork, the silhouette of my father bringing a fuming cup of skillfully-made tea appeared on the doorstep of our bedrooms.
Needless to say that we did not look forward to it because some of them turned out to be quite bitter, but 'good-for-you' type concoctions. However, we drank this health promoting liquid with the promise that we will have homemade sweet confections by the end of the week- which promises were seldomly honored, but we fell for it every time.
Now, this once dreaded tradition has become imbeded in the very part of my being. Morning and night I must enjoy my cup of tea. It is part of my life and I will be sure to carry on this tradition.
