Chercher Chercher Chercher

Fiddles, accordions. step-one two. Triangle to keep the beat. Who's ya daddy? You're a Huval, yeah? Yeah, I am a Huval. Niece of Brazos and the other brothers. Them from Breaux Bridge, children of Doc and Irma Huval. Where ya from? Where am I from, where do I call home? I have never lived in Louisiana until just over a year ago. I was born in Lake Charles. My mom grew up in Parks, my father in Breaux Bridge. My family has always lived away-Illinois, Wisconsin, Texas. Yeah, we'd visit for Christmas and the Crawfish Festival every year. But was that home? Could I say that I was from there if I didn't know the town, if I didn't grow up there? I never know how to answer that simple question of 'Where are you from?' I was always a no-where child. Lost myself- my identity every time we moved. I knew I was Cajun, my heart and my eyes told me that. That olive complexion, that nose of my grandfather, those big bones of my agricultural ancestors. My pop and mom always cooked. Chicken fricassee, jambalaya, gumbo, crawfish etouffee. The standards. I learned how to make corn bread when I was nine and I started making rice on the stove as soon as I could see over the top of the pot. Cats were always menew to me and cake was gateau, my parents asked the kids if they were ready to go do-do and if they didn't want us to be where we were they'd yell "Passe toi!" We understood and always had a sense that the community surrounding us did too. It wasn't until I was a little bit older that I realized that no one other than our family had any idea as to what we were saying. It's a cultural thing. Even though I didn't grow up entirely immersed in my culture, I wasn't far from it. The little bit that I heard and learned is more than nothing and I'm grateful for that little bit. I moved to Lafayette, Louisiana to go to college. I was a legacy student because of my father's attendance, it was an easy in for me. Little did I know that my life would change. I met some of the most beautiful people. Inside and out. Culturally in tune. The environment-landscape. Wetlands, cheniers, prairies, pines, bayous, rivers. These people are passionate about their home. There is a certain respect for the land that they live on, that they belong to. This land has given them a source of life with the crop sown and the crawfish cages thrown. And these people are as much about preservation as they are living. They live the culture- dancing, playing music, drinking, and good company. Suppers to share, coffee to talk-make a pass. Bring ya fiddle and let's jam. I am a cajun girl reclaiming my culture.

I have found my home.
Viens Me Chercher.