I remember very clearly my years in Haiti, where it was impossible to separate the movement of the people from the Creole language, the bird calls flitting through the trees, the particular ground and shoes that were worn, and the constant caress of the sea. I also remember that when I began to speak Creole amidst the mountains and perfumed bougainvillea that I experienced the movement of Haitian dance quite differently than in New York.

— Emilie Conrad, Living on Land