Michelle & Michel

Señora, la Presidente …

I was fortunate enough, a few weeks ago, to be asked to be Michelle Bachelet’s press attachée during her very packed two days in Canada. Madame Bachelet, the former President of Chile and recently named Head of of U.N. Women, was coming to the Maple Leaf to receive well- deserved honours from the University Of Ottawa, from Québec’s National assembly and most importantly from Reporters Without Borders who were awarding her with their “Prix International du Courage Féminin” in Montréal .

From the instant I met Michelle Bachelet, I was smitten. She’s petite with a sense of style. She’s warm and funny. But it’s her intelligence and her generosity that made me want to run to to the closest tattoo parlor to have the words “Forever Bachelet” inked on my body.

During our tri-city trip, I saw her grace during countless media interviews that weren’t always easy. I teared-up every time she encountered fans of Chilean origin whom she hugged and took pictures with just like any other Rock star would do. Madame Bachelet left the Presidency with an 84% approval rate and I now understand why. Even my beloved President Obama won’t get such numbers once he leaves 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

I find we don’t celebrate extraordinary women enough. Or we do so when it’s too late, posthumously. I’m excited to see what Madame Bachelet will do at U.N Women. And truth be told, I would go work for her in a New York minute.

L’Enfant Terrible …

At 16, during a family vacation in Haïti, I attended a party where the musical guest was Sweet Micky. He was fresh on the scene and had been all people were talking about over the Christmas holiday. The party was simply amazing.  Never mind that the bartender was serving this under-aged diaspora Barbancourt, the best rum on the planet.  I remember barely ever leaving the dance floor and being konpa-fied. Since then, Sweet Micky has been a staple. First in my Walkman, then in my Discman and eventually on my i-Pod.

20 years later, I was asked to be Sweet Micky’s press attachée in Canada. Alot had happened to Haïti in those 20 years. And now, Sweet Micky had taken back his birth name – Michel Joseph Martelly – and was/is vying to be the next President of Haïti.  I took the gig and decided to not judge the man by his CD covers.

We first met in August when he came to Montréal for a his first press conference as  a candidate. As a politician, it was his first contact with a local diaspora who until then, thought they had seen it all.

I greeted him one hour after his flight landed. He had me at “Ah!, finally we meet, Martine”.  His wife Sophia, had me at our first handshake.  There’s a new breed of politicians’ wives, and she’s one of them.  You’ve got company, Michelle Obama.

Michel Martelly pleasantly surprised me.  His love for Haïti is contagious. His ambition is perhaps a bit naïve, but that’s what I liked. His intentions are honest and daring.  He’s been knee-deep in charitable work in Haïti for over 20 years, before the country became the “cause-du-jour“.  I like Martelly the fed-up citizen, the man, the husband, the father.

Martelly is close to the people. He looks people in the eyes, asks for their first name & actually remembers the names once the cameras stop rolling.  Bachelet & him have that in common.   I know both will continue making differences in the world & I feel lucky to have a front seat.

Photo Michelle Bachelet: Victor Diaz Lamich

Photo Michel Martelly: Bernard Brault, La Presse