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Journal Entry #4

The dead season is, for me, one never ending night. I dream all the time of returning to give my testimony to the river, the waterfall, the justice of the peace, even to the Generalissimo himself. A border is a veil not many people can wear. I had never desired to run away. I did not know where to, or who to, since I did not have Sebastien anymore. His absence is my shadow; his breath my dreams. New dreams seem a waste, needless annoyances, too much to crowd into the tiny space that remains. Still I think I want to find new manners of filling up my head, new visions for an old life, this is why I came to the Dominican Republic. But when I was there I realized I have been chasing shadows, and that things would never be the same, that there is nothing else for me here. When I was going back to Haiti, I stopped by the river and I remembered one day that changed my life forever. The day my parents drowned, I watched their faces as they bobbed up and down, in and out of the crest of the river. Together they were both trying  to signal a message to me, but the force of the water would no let them. My mother before she sank, raised her arm high, far above the pinnacle of the flood. The gesture was so desperate that it was hard to tell whether she wanted me to jump in with them or move far away. I thought that if I relived the moment often enough, the answer would become clear. But it never did.

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Journal Entry #3

I am going to Dajabón, I just heard that the truck where Sebastien was or on has been intercepted by the Dominican troops, I can not believe this, why? I am not going to wait here, I need to know if he made it home, or at least if he is okey. Yves is coming along, we realised it is not safe here anymore. We trouble with a group of people, I see their hopeless faces. We make it to Dejabón. Now we only have to mimic the people in that place, so the soldiers would not notice us. Suddenly I see one of the soldiers come up to us, the group tore apart, Yves and I stood together. We ran towards the river that makes up the border between Haiti and the Dominican Republic, but there was a cliff, so we we jumped. In that moment I shut my ears for a moment and tried to imagine Sebastien’s voice, telling me that he was alive. I knew this would be his great worry, that I did not know what had happened to him and that perhaps I would think it was my fault he had disappeared; I wanted to be convinced of this. When we fell into the river I saw a group on soldiers at river’s shore, I rapidly whispered to Yves that we needed to swim underwater, so the troops would catch us. We took a deep breath and swam against the current. Once me made to the other side I undertook my way to see Sebatien’s mother.

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Journal Entry #2

¨I am going back. I won’t wait for things to go from talk to bloodshed, I am going back to Haiti. I will not take the automobile roads where all the soldiers are, I will travel through the mountains¨ said Unèl. I thought they were exaggerating, to be honest i did not want to think this was true, all of it, what they were saying about the Generalissimo. Not that I had any respect for him, but I did not want to believe that Jöel’s life was take under those circumstances. When I went home Sebastien was there, we did not talk for a while, we went to bed. Then I asked Sebastien if he has heard some talk, he answered referring to what Unél has been saying, he said ¨I do not know what to make of it, I keep hearing it, but I do not know if all of it is true. ¨  The next morning Doctor Javier came to check on Rosalinda, he was taking a break, he saw me, came to me and told me ¨You must leave this house immediately. I have just heard from some friends at the border. On the Generalissimo’s orders, soldiers and civilians are killing Haitians. It might be just a few hours before they reach the valley. ¨ Rumors, I thought. There were always rumors, rumors of war, of land disputes, of one side of the island planning to invade the other. These were grand fantasies of presidents wanting the whole island to themselves. This could not touch people like me. I did not want to believe it.

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Journal Entry #1

Births and deaths were my parents’ work. I never thought I would help at a birth myself until the screams rang through the valley that morning. I ran to Señora Valencia’s room, she was lying on her bed, sweating, on the lower part of her dress I saw baby fluid. As was trying to remove the sheets Don Ignacio came in. Señora Valencia was claiming that she was not ready yet, but Papi and I could she blood streaming between her legs. Papi stepped aside to fetch the doctor. The situation being what it was he had no choice but to trust his only child’s life to my inept hands. Even though I was not used to praying, I whispered a few words to La Virgen del Carmen that the doctor would come before the señora was in agony again. We were alone in the house now, she was scared, to be honest me too, she grabbed my wrist so tight that my fingers became numb, then I yanked my hands from hers and massaged her arms to help prepare her body for the birth. I felt the contents of my stomach rise and settle in the middle of my chest when I saw that baby’s head entered her canal. Though I felt some relief, now I can see the child; this is not entirely impossible. She pushed with all her might, like an ant trying to move a three. The head slipped down, filling my open hand. It is a boy . Like Señora Valencia, her son was coconut-cream colored. Then Señora Valencia started to feel the ¨birth pains¨ again, I remembered what my mom used to say ¨The baby’s old nest took its time to coming out. It was like another child altogether¨. She pushed even harder than before, another head of curly black hair slid down between her legs. I wrapped her up and gave both children to Señora Valencia. Then she gave me back her daughter, Rosalinda, her skin was darker that her brother's, señora said to me ¨My poor love, what if she is mistaken for one of your people?¨

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My journey

By Amabelle Desir from ¨The Farming of Bones¨

I lost my parents when I was only eight, they were the only thing I had. I did not know what to do after the tragedy. I often would go to the river that snatched my parents away from me, and everything would come to me like a movie, it is so engraved in my memory, then suddenly doubt invades me. On that fateful day, would my mother struggled to approach me while the currents of the river prevented her from either warning me of the danger or to invite me to join them, it is something I would never know and that will torment me the rest of my life. Then was when Don Ignacio (Papi) rescued me and took me from Haiti to the Dominican Republic to his estate to work for him and his family. They were Spanish descendants, but that never interfered in the friendship I had with Señora Valencia (Papi’s daughter), until we grew up and the color of my skin determined the place I had in the house, a simple maid. Then I met Sebastien, a cane-field worker. We were so in love, he never liked the Dominican Republic, because of what it implied working for this people, that's why we always planned to get married and rebuild our life in Haiti. The rumors spread about the army executing Haitians. I had to stay to take care of Señora Valencia’s newborns, so my beloved undertook the way back to our lands with his sister. A few days later I got the anguishing news that the truck in which they had been transported had been intercepted by the Dominican troops. Without thinking twice I embarked on the dangerous journey trying to find clues about Sebastien's whereabouts. On the trip I witnessed the hatred towards those who pronounce a word slightly different, the difference between Haitians and Dominicans. Finally I managed to find what my mother-in-law would have been if not for the answer I found when I visited her, Sebastien had not managed to cross the border. At that time everything seemed to have a shade of gray, I stayed a few days with Yves, Sebastien's friend and who had traveled with me. But I needed closure, so I went back to the Dominican Republic, looking for what now were nothing but shadows of what I had shared with the love of my life, then I realized that I could no longer feel the warmth of this body, after seeing Señora Valencia I understood that this was no longer my place, that stage of my life had already passed. Finally I returned to Haiti knowing that Sebastien would always be in my heart.

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Discussion question #5

If you could change one thing in your life what would it be? How would this affect the circumstances of your story?

If I could change one thing in my life, I would change the fact that my parents are dead. Now to do that I would have to warn them from the warn of heavy rains, but to do that I should have known that the rains would overflow the river. If I had been able to do that, I imagine that now I would live with my parents and probably have met a Haitian with whom to share my life. I would not have gone through all this life challenging experiences, also I think I would have seen my differently. On the other hand what let’s say that I could not inform my parents of the danger. I would have left the Dominican Republic with Sebastien before the killings started, I imagine that with ours savings we would not have a lot, but when you are with the person that you love, anything is good enough as long as you are together. Or If I happened to not know what was going on until the killings started (which is what actually happened) I would not have let him get on the truck, I would have told him to stay, I think Papi would have protected us, until it was save to leave, or at least organize our departure later and the crusade of the border in another place, other than fatal city of Dajabón. It is sad to think about what could have been, I do not like to this, I think It kinda tortures us. It does not allow us to continue with our lives. I think for now is better to move on.

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Discussion question #4

Who are the most important people in your life? Why are they so meaningful to you?

The most important people in my life i would have to say, first of all would be my parents who I admired so much, my mom was very cold, but when she showed affection it was simple, but full of love. My dad on the other hand I was the apple of his eyes, he was always giving me advice, I really enjoyed our talks. Since the traumatic incident that took them away, everything became meaningless, until I met Don Ignacio, He sympatized on me, took me with him, and gave me a new life. He reared me with his own daughter in his estate. When I got older I started working for him and Señora Valencia, who at the beginning was very kind to me . Don Ignacio became my father figure, Señora Valencia and I called him Papi. Growing up I met the man who would become the reason for breathing, I fell deeply in love with Sebastien, unlike me he worked in the field harvesting sugarcane, while I was working serving Señora Valencia. With him we had agreed to return to our homeland to create a new life together. I did not want him to expose himself to the harvest, the work was dangerous, some of his colleagues could not continue, others lost limbs, Sebastien already had enough scars. He would always listen to me, and try to calm me down when I had nightmares, reliving my parents death. When my mom reached out to me as she was drowning. I am never sure whether she was motioning for me to enter the river to die with them or warning me to stay back.

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Discussion question #3

How do you define success? Do you believe you’ve achieved success? If so how do you know? If not, what has prevented you?

For me success is not giving up, once you do, there is nothing to wait for, there is no purpose. We need a purpose in life, to overcome adversity, so that life has meaning. This is why when things do not go as expected, you should not throw in the towel. You must stand firm and look for another way to solve the problem.  Although there are times when things do not have a solution, but you must learn to live with that and look for another purpose and not get stuck in things that you can not change. Though live have not been easy for me, I think I have achieved success. Since I was little I have faced the loss of the most important people in my life. For a moment life had no meaning for me, I felt that I could not continue, until Don Ignacio reminded me how lucky I was to stand, and took me to his farm. Where I met someone who would give me incentive to get up everyday , Sebastien became my confidante, my new purpose. We had agreed that we would return to our country to rebuild our life together. Everything happened so fast and now I have lost it forever. I returned to the Dominican Republic in search of his shadows, to be able to breathe its scent once more, but that is no longer my home if he is not with me, that's why that I decided to return to my homeland, knowing that his presence will never leave my heart.

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Discussion question #2

Do you believe human nature is essentially good or bad? What I mean is, are we born as inherently caring, nurturing, sharing members of a collective group, or are our most basic instincts self-serving, greedy, and focused on meeting our individual needs. What in your experience informs this belief? How does it manifest itself in your life.

I believe that human nature is to be good and caring, but in the other hand this nature is very fragile, because if you are raised with values that corrupt this innate purpose, you will see yourself in the obligation to behave in the way you have been taught to. Señora Valencia is the perfect example. I met her when Don Ignacio brought me to the estate, her daughter, Señora Valencia, happened to be the same age as me. We grew up together, played and shared our toys, to tell the truth she would share her belongings with me, I was not allowed to have any toys, because it would ¨hinder¨ my work. Since we were little we knew what our place in society would be. She would be the Señora of the house, on the other hand I would be a simple servant. Even so she did not judge me, the only thing we were cared about at that time was to play. Time passed, and things changed, Señora Valencia was not kind anymore, she looked at me with disgust, due to the color of my skin. I suppose she had been taught that "her people" should not join with "my people". I think the same thing happened to all of those guys who somehow think that ¨my people¨ do not deserve to live and that is their obligation to solve this problem. Hitting us, killing us in cold blood. I try so hard to understand where this is coming from, I can not conceive in my head how it can be so evil, but they have made it very clear to me when they decided to take the life of the love of my life.

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Discussion question #1

Are our lives controlled by fate or free will ? In other words, do the choices we make determine our futures, or is our life destined to be what it is? How does this perspective affect the way you interact with the world? Cite specific experiences or influences that have led you to your position.

I would definitely say that the course of life is the one we decide by free will. This decisions we make, for whatever reason, are going to be reflected in our future. Even if the things that happen have not been the product of our decisions, they are things that we can not control, but it is up to us to decide how we will react to them. We could stay with resentment and depressed thinking about what could have been, but I do not I have time for that, if there is something that life has taught me, it is that there is no time to waste. I have seen through so much pain that it would be very sad to think that this path is what has been decided for us, moreover I do not want to believe that it is so. Life is not easy, particularly for people like me, but I will not give them the pleasure of making me miserable.There is no choice but to move forward, if we stay encapsulated in bad memories we will never be able to experience the good things that are yet to come. I believe that this perspective has saved me from perdition, when I was only eight years old I lost my parents, they were dragged by the river, disappearing among the strong currents. At that time I did not know what to do with my life, until Don Ignacio rescued me from what could have been the last of my days, since then I have decided to fight against adversity.

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We used parsley for our food, our teas, our baths, to cleanse out insides as well as our outsides. Perhaps the Generalissimo in some larger order was trying to do the same for his country.

The Farming of Bones, Amabelle.

I chose this quote because it illustrates the effects of the parley massacre. What held meaning in such a positive way to Amabelle turns into a bitter representation of the death and destruction of her people. As a test of whether a person was Haitian or Dominican, troops would often make the person in question say the word ‘perejil,’ Spanish for parsley, whereas the Creole pronunciation was pési.

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Misery won't touch you gentle. It always leaves its thumbprints on you; sometimes it leaves them for others to see, sometimes for nobody but you to know of.

The Farming of Bones, Amabelle’s father.

I chose this quote because I can relate, all that happens in our lives leaves us a mark, sometimes visible, sometimes just scars that we have to deal with in our heads.

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Poor Kongo. Condolences, Kongo. Two new children came into the world while you have to put your son in the ground.

The Farming of Bones, Amabelle.

I chose this quote because I feel it represents Amabelle’s perseverance in light of many tragedies, she advocates for the value of moving forward and not trying to make sense of tragedies. Which I think it is admirable of her. Just as the death of Joel is senseless, so too was the mass-killing of Haitians, but Amabelle moves past that as well.

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The young, they’re cheated because they don’t know it’s coming. They don’t have time to move closer, to return home. When you know you’re going to die, you try to be near the bones of your own people. You don’t even think you have bones when you’re young, even when you break them, you don’t believe you have them. But when you’re old, they start reminding you they’re there. They start turning to dust on you, even as you’re walking here and there, going from place to place. And this is when you crave to be near the bones of your own people. My children never felt this. They had to look death in the face, even before they knew what it was.

The Farming of Bones, Man Denise, Sebastien’s mother.

I chose this quote because I could not agree more. When I came to the United Staes I felt so connected with my family, and I have seen how my grandmother in my home country tries her best to make all my family come togheter. She says she wants to see us reunited at least once before she leaves this world.

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https://www.ted.com/talks/edwidge_danticat_stories_of_haiti

https://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/09/books/review/Row-t.html?rref=collection%2Ftimestopic%2FDanticat%2C%20Edwidge

http://www.edwidgedanticat.com

4 sites relevant to the novel

In this links we can find the story of the author, what she thinks, and what is the purpose of writing her books.

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https://www.npr.org/sections/parallels/2017/10/07/555871670/80-years-on-dominicans-and-haitians-revisit-painful-memories-of-parsley-massacre

https://www.thenation.com/article/the-ghosts-of-1937-are-warning-us/

http://www.hurricanescience.org/history/storms/1930s/DominicanRepublic/

4 links to historical sites relevant to the book.

Each of this links talk about the massacre that occurred in 1937,  under the regiment of Trujillo. Which is important to understand the historical context of the story. Also about the hurricane that cause mass migration from Haiti to the Dominican Republic.

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4 historical entries in blue, and 4 plot entries in green.