I'M PROUD TO BE A CAJUN! Johnny Janot really says it All... I'm Proud To Be A Cajun! Yes, I'm proud to be a Cajun because of the way I was raised; and it's a very important part of my life. It is a way of life that is a blend of mystery, love, pride, and tradition.  Trying to explain it to someone who knows nothing of the Cajun culture would be difficult. So much of it is carried in one's heart and mind; and it's so hard to put into words.  But perhaps a few of these things might help to explain; and it will certainly bring a picture to mind to anyone who has been raised the way I have. It's watching my grandmother rock in the evenings while the black rosary beards slip through her work-worn hands. It's the sight of acres and acres of lush green rice; and it's the smell of chopped green onions, parsley, and bell pepper in a pot of gumbo simmering.  It's watching my mama make the sign of the cross and saying prayers over a sprained ankle or snake bite. They call it treating, and I've seen it work.  It's the sound of tires crunching on a gravel road. It's the soft melody of my parents conversing in the age old dialect. It's seeing Nan and Peecat sitting on their front porch and knowing that they will always be there. But one day, they're not; and you realize that something precious is slipping away. It's a wedding dance where money is pinned to the bride's veil and the groom's suit for the privilege of dancing with them. And it's staying up all night at the funeral home because you don't leave the dead by themselves. This is the last thing you can do for them.  And it's grown men and women calling their parents mama and daddy and not being ashamed of it. And it's a gigantic feast at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter.  The men eat first so they can nap and the women eat last so they can talk before putting everything away. And it's the sweet sea smell of boiling crawfish and crabs. And it's watching my grandfather, straight and tall, going to the French dances. It's the solemn sound of the big church bell tolling once for every year of life of the loved one passed away.  It's watching mama and Aunt Willie stuff long casings with a rich boudin mixture; and it's the sweet smell of strong brewed coffee and homemade bread. It's my daddy working all day in the garden with his back straight as he hoes row after row. It's tombstones shadowed by moss covered oaks, all white-washed and ready for All Saints Day. It's the wonderful sound of Soodie, "will you be my baby's Nanny?" Yeah, it's kind of hard to explain; but, again, it's a pride and love that I carry in my mind and heart. It's a wonderful race of people, and it makes me sad to see so much of it fading away.  I just hope I can preserve enough of it to pass on to my own children; and they, like me, will be proud to be a Cajun; 'cause, after all, Cajuns are tough. We're made of good stuff. Life may be rough; but we're gonna make it, sure enough! © 1991 Swallow Records THIS WAS RECORDED BY: JOHNNY JONOT, he has been gone from us a long time now....so it is up to us to not let this fade away. alice