I am part Cajun French.  I get the Cajun French from my mama's side of the family.  I think that sets me apart from a lot of my friends at school because where I live, there's not many Cajun people around.

I love being part Cajun.  Mama was born in Louisiana, and she passed the love for the Bayou State on to me.  She still has the Cajun accent she had as a youth, although it's been tempered a bit by living in Minnesota.  She moved to Minnesota after she married dad, and us kids were born there. 

I know she misses Louisiana:  she hears a Cajun song or thinks of her friends back in the Bayou State, and her eyes tear up fast.  I know she has to have her Cajun crawfish, sausage, and such sent to her via mail because it is very hard to find things like crawfish, boudin, andouille (Cajun sausages), and jambalaya mix in most of the stores here in St. Paul.  What they have here isn't real Cajun, she says; they don't know what Cajun cookin' is truly about.

Mama loves magnolia-scented soap, perfume, or powder.  Me, I think it smells too sweet, but she likes it, so I put up with it.  She says they had a big magnolia tree in their yard, and she remembers playing in it as a child.

Mama has passed the love of Cajun music on to me.  While most of my friends have never heard of bands like Beausoleil, The Cajun Troubadours, or Feufollet, or singers like Belton Richard, Jimmy C. Newman, Wayne Toups, or Warren Storm, to me they are like familiar friends:  I grew up hearing their music, and I have learned to show a deep appreciation for them and their songs.  I have seen all of them in Louisiana, and I wish they'd come up north more often than they do.

Mama looks Cajun with her long, wavy, dark hair, dark, snapping eyes, and her tanned skin; most people think she's Mexican or something, but she's not.  She's pure Cajun French with maybe a hint of Native American Indian in her (which explains for her dark hair, eyes, and skin).  Besides, she doesn't even speak (or understand) Spanish excapt maybe a few words.

People think my mama is cool because she can talk of things like crawfish bisque, jambalaya, etoufee', or gumbo, and I know exactly what they are because I have had them more than once.  They think she's speaking a foreign language.  She is, but she's also speaking English, and I understand what she means.

Sometimes when mad, mama will pepper her speech with Cajun French, which freaks my friends out.  I know what she means when she utters phrases like "un bete cabage", "il est tres chaud!", "oh, ye' yaie!", or "hey la bas!".  I speak enough Cajun French to converse with her; mama sometimes talks in Cajun French when she doesn't want our daddy or the little ones to kow what she is talking about.  I can hold a decent conversation with her; that's how good I've gotten in my French.

I am definitely a Cajun girl.  I have a Cajun heart, a Cajun mind, a Cajun soul.  I am proud of my Louisiana heritage, even though I was born in Minnesota.  I always look forward to visiting my cousins or aunts and uncles in Louisiana:  to me it's almost like a homecoming or a family reunion with much laughter, music, and love. 

And I owe my love for "all things Louisiana" to my Cajun mama.  God bless her, and God bless the Cajun people!!  :)  Aaiiieee!!  :D