FROM ENGLISHTOWN TO THE SEVENTH WARD | SUSAN HENRY

I was born in La Ceiba, a city on the Caribbean coast of Honduras. I lived in a neighborhood called Englishtown in a two-story house, by the ocean—the biggest in the neighborhood.  The view from my front porch was amazing. The ocean touched the sky. The scent was nice and fresh.  At night, the stars could be seen.  The neighbors were nice and there were always a lot of people outside, hanging out and drinking.  Uptown was where all the stores are. The smell of warm, fresh coconut bread, banana cake, and sugar cookies surrounded the streets. But my favorite were semitas, a sweet bread.  I didn’t think they sold them in New Orleans, but king cake is similar.  Semitas are just smaller with less colors.

In La Ceiba, my mother was a hairdresser and owned her own beauty salon on the first floor of our house.  She was always packed with clients.  Sometimes she would be working until 2 in the morning.  She would ask me to help her sometimes.  I would hold the combs, hairspray, bobby pins, and anything else she needed.  I would fall asleep watching her.  I learned many things, too.  I took out my beauty supplies and use them on my friends.  I even did it for free.  My mom got mad because I was using her things and taking her clients.

I remember being 12 years old when I first moved to Bruxelles in the Seventh Ward of New Orleans. That was like my first real home after leaving my grandmother’s house when I had just moved to the States.  Living with my grandmother was all right, but I wanted my own home.

Three years later we found a home in Bruxelles. I had my own privacy. I would write, draw, read, sew clothes, listen to music, and even talk on the phone with no one to disturb me. There was a beauty salon next to my house in Bruxelles. I would sit on my little spot on the front porch and just stare at the sign. I dreamed of working there when I turned 16, but Katrina happened and we had to move on.