It's what the old people speak when they want to talk about how much of a little shit you are but don't want you to know they know, or when the gossip gets so good only the subjunctive tense or feminized nouns capture the scandal.
It's the echo of older languages. The last vestiges of Choctaw in Lagniappe, Atchafalaya, Bayou. The sway of a Caribbean breeze with a Co fa pas? or a mo chagrin. The rustic rhythms of West Africa in gumbo, coush coush, jambalaya.
A language most people in South Louisiana my age have some experience with, but none of us speak.
Here's Tante Sue, my great aunt, having a conversation with my friend Ibrehemia and me.
For the next couple of months I'm going to be posting any family members I have left who still speak French, or at least whatever French they still speak.
