Haitian Women Are Goddesses

The first time I saw Marianne Casimir, I fell in love with her. The five-foot-eleven, busty and big-bottomed, dark-skinned Haitian beauty was bending over to tie her shoe. And I was glad I wasn't driving because I might have had an accident. I practically walked into a wall when I saw her...but it's hard to be upset because she's so hot. My name is Stephen Montpelier. A Haitian-American stud from Boston, Massachusetts, who found his future wife in the whitest country outside of Europe, the Confederation of Canada.

I was visiting the City of Montreal in the summer of 2009. I didn't think much of Canada, to tell you the truth. All I knew about Canada is that it's cold, white and boring. Sounds a lot like Alaska, land of Sarah Palin, another place I don't like. However, I was blown away by the Haitian presence in the City of Montreal. The Canadian province of Quebec is home to close to two hundred thousand Haitians. And most of them live in the City of Montreal. Man, that Canadian City started to feel like home as I walked into Haitian restaurants, Haitian barbershops and Haitian churches. It's a lot like Boston!

My parents, Louis and Stephanie Montpelier have lived in Boston ever since the late 1980s. I was born and raised in the Dorchester neighbourhood of Boston. My dad is a police officer and my mom is a schoolteacher. My older brother Jose is a lawyer who shocked everyone in the family when he married Susan O'Malley, a white female jockey he met in Dallas. My younger sister Ariel is engaged to Antonio Cabral, a Hispanic dude who claims he's a D.J. but might really be a hustler. It seems that I'm the only person in my family who still believes in Black Love.

I'm a young Black man who loves Black women. Yet I couldn't seem to attract them. I'm six feet two inches tall and weigh two hundred and sixty pounds. I'm average-looking in the face department. In spite of my size, I suck at sports. I'm a big nerd. Ask anyone in the Computer Science Department at Northeastern University. Black nerds aren't popular with pretty young Black women. Only the thugs and the athletes seem to get the love from the Black ladies these days. I was beginning to despair because I saw so many Black chicks with Black thugs. And those Black chicks who didn't date thuggish Black guys seemed only interested in white men or Hispanic men. What's a decent brother got to do in order to get some love from a pretty Black lady?

I was kind of depressed about my lack of progress in the romance department. Seriously. In the eyes of the world, I seemed to be doing okay. I was studying computer science at Northeastern University on a full academic scholarship. Half the time, I get mistaken for a jock on campus. Folks quickly wise up once they realize I can't run fast or throw a ball to save my life. There are quite a few Black students at Northeastern University, part of the school's efforts to diversify a bit. However, Black guys and Black chicks on campus didn't really get along. Many of the young Black men went out with white ladies and Hispanic ladies. And some of the same young Black women who frowned when spotting white female/Black male couples were now dating white men. How about that?

Yeah, life kind of sucked for me. Only on one front, though. I graduated from Dorchester High School in 2008. I started college right after. Academically I was successful but my social life sucked. I was almost twenty and could count the number of lovers I've had on one hand. The first gal I ever slept with, a beautiful Jamaican chick named Rachel, eventually dumped me for a roughneck Haitian dude named Timothy Martin. Did I mention that Timothy Martin is a thug with four brats by three different women? It seems young Black women only like the bad guys. Or the white guys. Never the good Black men. What gives? I was pretty depressed by the time the summer of 2009 came. My parents thought it would do me some good to get out of town. So they sent me to my uncle and aunt's place in the City of Montreal, all the way in the Confederation of Canada. How about that?

It's in the City of Montreal that I met Marianne Casimir, the gorgeous Haitian goddess who changed everything. The first time I laid eyes on her, I was smitten. Like any red-blooded Haitian male, I've got a thing for curvy, beautifully dark-skinned and big-bottomed Haitian women. My old high school in Dorchester was full of them. They never wanted to give me the time of day, though. Well, Marianne was a Black Canadian chick of Haitian descent. She carried herself like a princess without being stuck up. There are lots of regal Haitian women in the City of Montreal. Yet she stood apart. In part because she noticed me, liked what she saw and didn't mind letting me know. Did I luck out or what?

As it turns out, the gorgeous Haitian gal who took my breath away was connected to me in some ways. Marianne is the daughter of Erica Casimir, a registered nurse in North Montreal and the best friend of my aunt Cecilia Montpelier, my father's sister. My aunt was best friends with Marianne's mother. I took that as a sign. Marianne's father is a Corrections Officer in the City of Montreal. He's very protective of his only daughter. The old Haitian dude gave me the evil eye when he caught me looking at Marianne so I had to win him over. I liked Marianne, and I definitely let her know. It's not every day that I meet a gorgeous young Black woman who actually likes me. Usually, gorgeous young Black women prefer Black thugs, along with white guys, to nice Black guys like me. That's just the way of the world. Well, Marianne liked me. I asked her out and we began going out together.

I learned a lot about my gorgeous Haitian princess. Marianne Casimir was born and raised in the City of Montreal, province of Quebec. She was fully bilingual and attended Concordia University, where she studied business administration. She visited Boston every summer, mainly because her uncle Alfred Casimir, her father's older brother, lived in South Boston. Wow. A Boston guy with family in Montreal meets a Montreal gal with family in Boston. It's almost as if we were made for each other. I was smitten with Marianne. Actually, no. More than smitten. I was actually in love with her.

I know it's a weird thing for a young man to say but I believe in fate. I wanted Marianne to be my wife. So I asked her. And she said yes. To say that our parents were stunned would be an understatement. They fiercely opposed the idea of marriage. Especially since Marianne was a year older than me. Well, we took off. Yes, two well-behaved and well-educated brats from conservative Haitian families defied their parents in the name of love. Marianne and I eloped and we moved in together. I opted to study at Concordia University for a year, and my academic advisors at Northeastern University had no objections. It was actually an easy transfer. I got a work permit and worked part-time to support my new bride and myself.

Love makes you do crazy things. I like Montreal and I love my Marianne. She's got a year left in the business program at Concordia University. Next year we're moving to Boston together. I will finish my senior year at Northeastern University, that way I will have my degree and be capable of fully supporting my lady and myself. Marianne and I plan to reconnect with our families eventually. Especially since we plan on starting a family of our own. Not now obviously. We're still in school. Our love has grown stronger over time and we're sticking together. It's not always easy. However, I am very patient and worship the ground that my Haitian goddess walks on. And she loves me dearly. What can I say, folks? We're happy together. Whoever told you Black Love is dead clearly never met us!