Oloffson

I spent three-quarters of my life living in Kafoufèy. When I’m home, I can always tell when there’s something cooking at the Hotel Oloffson.

When I was a kid, I was always peeking inside whenever I passed by because it fascinated me so much. One day, my friends Sonsonn, Mako, and I sneaked in to explore the courtyard. The security guard didn’t see us when we entered, but he must have seen our backs once we were already inside. He called out to us, and right then we ran. He chased us, we ran around the courtyard to get back to the front. When he saw that we were heading toward the exit gate, he went to stand in front of it.

When we got to him, he jokingly said that before he’d let us leave, we had to buy back the food he had just eaten, because he’d spent his energy chasing after us. We told him we didn’t have any money. He told us to go home, that he’d be watching for us whenever we passed by again so we’d have to buy his food.

Every time we passed by, he’d say, “Hey boys, you didn’t forget me, did you?” And we’d answer, “Ah, next time, when we come back!”

When I grew up, I went to the Hotel Oloffson many times, to take photos, to eat and drink, to have fun, but I never saw that security guard again. He must’ve stopped working there. But every time I walk into that courtyard, I look around and remember his face, his thick mustache, the kind that could stop him from drinking sòs pwa properly, and his gentle eyes.

Another beautiful memory I have is when Lunise and Richard Morse from the famous Haitian root-rock band RAM welcomed me, even though I didn’t have an appointment, to show them a calendar I made in 2019 featuring several Vodou drawings. They loved it so much they bought four copies from me. As I was walking down the hill heading home afterward, I felt like shouting anmweyyyyyy! I was that happy.

I wanted to celebrate my connection with the Oloffson, because losing it, along with my entire neighborhood, my neighbors, Plas Jeremi, Plas Kal Bwa, Mache Salomon because of gang violence, has left an emptiness in my heart like no other. 💔

Printed as a museum-quality giclée on fine art paper with archival inks, it ensures exceptional depth, texture, and longevity, preserving the vivid spirit and symbolism of this sacred pair.