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    Beatriz Aiffil

    Haiti again !

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    by , 11-10-2010 at 06:01 PM (5515 Views)

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    ¡Otra vez Haití!
    Beatriz Aiffil
    Publicado en Correo del Orinoco, Caracas, Venezuela (7 Nov 2010)

    Me hablas, Ayiti, en un creole de timbales y sonajeros. En un idioma que sólo da un repiqueteo entre conchas de mar. Supongo que dicen cosas serias los haitianos pero lo que se oye es música. Lo que escucho es canción. Y es canción de acentuación aguda de siglos reprimidos en la garganta profunda formada por tus mayúsculas penínsulas esdrújulas. Y ese canto deviene en grito que Jamaica no entiende y Cuba tampoco. Nadie te entiende, Ayiti.
    Que qué he hecho yo por Haití, pregunta Alí (1). Y yo confieso que no he hecho nada más que escribir sin saber por qué muero todos los días por Haití. Y pido perdón por este y todos los días en que moriré sin mover un dedo por ti, Haití. No sé qué más puedo hacer pues no te entiendo a ti, Ayiti, ni entiendo la saña del monstruo norteño que te quiere piltrafa.
    Vejada y ultrajada. Al Norte sin más compañía que un inmenso océano donde Poseidón y Yemayá apuestan quién mueve más las aguas infinitas como si yo no supiera que andan en otra cosa más sabrosa. Al Este, unos carajos menos negros y menos míseros te separan del mar que te separa de la Europa vencida tempranamente; se creen más que tú los pobres, pero qué va, es de otra manera la misma desgracia. Al Oeste, el mar Caribe o mar de las Antillas venteando en tu faz el aroma a mohito cubano y a yerba no-problem jamaiquina. Al Sur, vuelve el Caribe mar cargando serpentinas de colores latinoamericanos recogidas en islas hermanas, en las Guayanas, en Venezuela, en Colombia, en Centroamérica, para que te sientas menos triste en esa noche triste que es tu triste historia, mi triste y querida Haití.
    Ahora sufres de amor. Sí, de amor. Yo comprendí, gracias al Gabo (2), que los síntomas del amor son los mismos del cólera. Con tu esperanza de vida, no es para menos. Sufres esos síntomas horribles y la necesidad urgente de morir. Eres vieja, Ayiti, la más vieja de América Latina. Y te has enamorado con amor viejo que te arrodilla en los estertores de la muerte.
    Ahora deduzco que sí puedo hacer algo por ti, además de ejercitar el malsano oficio de escribir. Levanto mi dedo índice para acusar al gigante del Norte. Antes el Sida, ahora el cólera... Ése que una vez concibió la ruta del Virus de Inmunodeficiencia Humana con una línea África-Haití, es el mismo que hoy dibuja la del Vibrio Cholerae con una línea Asia-Haití, con su misma mano y con el mismo lápiz.
    Mismo destino: Haití. Otra vez Haití.
    Otra vez y otra y otra…
    ¡Ay, Ayiti…!!!

    (1) Alí Primera, el cantante de la Revolución venezolana
    (2) Gabriel García Máquez, escritor colombiano


    translate...

    Haiti again!
    Beatriz Aiffil
    Published in Correo del Orinoco, Caracas, Venezuela (Nov 7, 2010)

    You speak me, Ayiti, in a creole of kettledrums and rattles. In a language that only gives a drumming between shells of sea. I suppose that the Haitians say serious things but what it’s heard is music. What I listen is a song. And it’s a song of acute accentuation of centuries repressed in the deep throat formed by your long and prominent capes. And this singing turns into shout that Jamaica doesn’t understand and Cuba either. Nobody understands you, Ayiti.
    That what I have made for Haiti, Alí asks (1). And I confess that I haven’t done anything more that writing without knowing why I die every day for Haiti. And I ask for pardon for this one and every day in which I’ll die without moving a finger for you, Haiti. I don’t know what more I can make because I don’t neither understand to you, Ayiti, nor understand the brutality of the northern monster that wants you trash.
    Humiliated and violated. In the north without more company that an immense ocean where Poseidon and Yemaya compete to see who of the two moves more the infinite waters as if I didn’t know that they make another tastier thing. In the east, a less black and less wretched men separate you from the sea that separates you from the Europe defeated early; the poor men believe themselves they are more than you, but any way, is otherwise the same misfortune. In the west, the Caribbean sea blowing in your face the smell of Cuban mohito and no problem Jamaican herb. In the south, the Caribbean Sea come back loading serpentines of Latin American colors gathered in sister islands, in the Guayanas, in Venezuela, in Colombia, in Central America, in order that you feel less sad in this sad night that is your sad history, my sad and loved Haiti.
    Now you suffer of love. Yes, of love. I understood, thanks to the Gabo (2), that the symptoms of the love are the same of the cholera. With your life expectancy, it’s not for less. You suffer these horrible symptoms and the urgent need to die. You are old, Ayiti, the oldest of Latin America. And you have fallen in love with old love that make you kneel down in the stertors of the death.
    Now I think that yes I can do something for you, beyond exercising the harmful practice of writing. I raise my forefinger to accuse the giant of the North. Before it was the AIDS, now it’s the cholera... That one who once conceived the route of the Virus of Human Immunodeficiency with a line Africa – Haiti, is the same one that today draws the route of the Vibrio Cholerae from Asia to Haiti, with the same hand and the same pencil.
    The same destination: Haiti. Haiti again .
    Again and other one and other one…
    Ay, Ayiti …!!!

    (1) Alí Primera, the Venezuelan Revolution singer’s
    (2) Gabriel García Máquez, colombian writer

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    Comments

    1. edwins's Avatar
      greetings-

      i am speechless...

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    2. Beatriz Aiffil's Avatar
      do you know? a lot of years ago, a theatre's teacher taught me that the blacks don't do silence. up to this moment iwas feeling that my skin was black but i had not felt myself black. now i am active one convinced that neither the black man nor black woman do silence. we cannot.
      thank you friend, brother, comrade for expressing here.
      edwins, i send you my love

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    3. Im The Truth's Avatar
    4. Aragorn's Avatar
      Wonderful entry!

      And, once again, Beatriz Aiffil's equally wonderful country comes to Haiti(Ayiti)'s rescue:

      Venezuela Sends Aid to Haiti
      Venezuela Sends Aid to Haiti | venezuelanalysis.com

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    5. Beatriz Aiffil's Avatar
      dear "im the truth"...
      really i have been in the forum para hispano-hablantes and i have communicated with the sister keisa. interesting without doubt, i feel myself informed and updated from there in special about themes i do not handle very well.
      thank you brother and special thanks for your valuable friendship.

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    6. Beatriz Aiffil's Avatar
      my dearest arargon,
      happy to read you again. in addition you always located in the venezuelan reality. we are related in brotherhood with haiti, due to the fact that our president HUGO CHÁVEZ takes seriously the deal between petion and bolivar. nowadays we are in emergency for the rains in venezuela but it does not fall down our collaboration with haiti very especially after the earthquake of january. we will never leave them...
      a strong embrace for you brother

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    7. Aragorn's Avatar
      My thanks, Beatriz Aiffil. I have profound respect for your country and its president, Mr. Hugo Chavez. In addition to his profound respect for Mr. Petion and Simon Bolivar, he is there for the people of Venezuela, and recognizes that it is the same ENEMY that is trying to keep his country and people down that is also doing the same to Haiti(Ayiti) and its people-and he is standing up to it!

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