W.Y.W.A: From Tap Tap to Takeoff: How Haitian Food, Skits, and Travel Are Fueling My Vision

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Chido.4K

There’s a certain kind of magic in a plate of griot. The crispy pork, perfectly seasoned, nestled next to fried plantains and pikliz that hits like a melody you didn’t know you needed. That’s how I felt when I first met the owner of Tap Tap Cuisine, a Haitian restaurant that doesn’t just serve food—it serves stories, history, and a vibe so strong it lingers like the best kind of ghost. I walked in hungry and walked out inspired. Funny how that works.

The owner, a larger-than-life figure with a smile that could part storm clouds, told me his story: a tale of migration, resilience, and a dream built from scratch. He spoke about his beginnings in Haiti, the hustle to make it in the States, and how food became his passport to connection. Listening to him, I couldn’t help but see parallels in my own life—a vision that felt scattered, dreams still finding their shape. That conversation lit a fire.

Back to the Drawing Board

That fire didn’t stay contained. Me and my friends, sitting around a table piled high with empty plates, started trading jokes about life, love, and the ridiculousness of it all. Somewhere between the punchlines and the laughter, we decided to write them down. That’s how the first skit was born—on the back of a greasy whiteboard. One spark led to another, and soon those whiteboard sketches evolved into something more substantial: the heartbeat of House of Friends.

We’re building something that feels like a love letter to everyone who’s ever felt overlooked, misunderstood, or just plain tired of cookie-cutter comedy. It’s funny, it’s real, and most importantly, it’s ours.

The Importance of Leaving

But here’s the thing about growth: sometimes it demands distance. I’m from a place where everyone knows your name—and your business. But there’s a ceiling to familiarity, a comfort zone that starts to feel like a trap. Staying means playing it safe, and I’m not interested in safe. I’m interested in what’s next.

Leaving isn’t easy. It’s a messy cocktail of excitement, fear, and just enough faith to keep you moving forward. But stepping away from what I know has shown me that’s the only way to truly build what I’ve dreamed. Seattle, with its endless opportunities and fresh energy, is calling. It feels like the perfect place to refine the vision and take House of Friends from good to unforgettable.

Travel as a Catalyst

And that’s the beauty of travel: it doesn’t just broaden the mind, it sharpens the vision. Every new place, every new face, adds another layer to the story I’m trying to tell. Whether it’s a Haitian restaurant in Portland or a coffee shop in Seattle, inspiration hides in the cracks and corners of unfamiliar spaces. You just have to be open to it.

What started as a simple meal at Tap Tap Cuisine has turned into something so much bigger: a reminder that art thrives on connection, that stories matter, and that sometimes the best thing you can do is leave everything behind to chase what feels impossible.

So here’s to griot, greasy whiteboards, and the kind of travel that doesn’t just change your scenery but your soul. The journey isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. And when House of Friends finally becomes what it’s supposed to be, I’ll know it all started with a plate of Haitian food and a dry erase marker.

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