But she never got a homecoming.

"It seems that every time I want to head back to Haiti there is some trouble going on," she said, shaking her head in disappointment. "Politically we never get a break."

For a nation that has had more than its share of misfortunes, 2004 has been a painful bicentennial year. In February, just over 200 years after it won its independence from France - it was the second nation in the Western hemisphere, after the United States, to become free from colonial rule - armed rebel groups took control of the country and ousted its president, Jean-Bertrand Aristide, leading to widespread looting and violence.

Then with spring came damaging torrential rains. Fall brought a brutal hurricane season that killed thousands. In the northern coastal city of Gonaïves, Ms. Michel's hometown, nearly 3,000 people died during Tropical Storm Jeanne and its aftermath.

Ms. Michel had planned to give a free concert in Haiti two weeks ago, but it was canceled - because of "the usual mess," she said, citing a clash with the army - and she was still in the New York area making publicity rounds for her new album, "Rasin Kreyol" ("Creole Roots"), for Times Square records. Ms. Michel plays tonight at S.O.B.'s on Varick Street in the South Village.

On the way to an appearance at a Haitian music store in Orange, N.J., where she signed CD's, posed for pictures and chatted jovially with almost all of the two or three dozen fans who showed up, Ms. Michel described her experience as a homesick emigrant.

"You wonder if you will ever be able to go back and do all that you wanted to do," she said. "You're caught in the middle. You think, maybe I could make a difference being there, but if I went I would not be able to sing. I had planned to do a big tour, but forget about it. There's an emergency and there's no time for anything."

Born in Gonaïves, Ms. Michel won a talent contest at 18 and studied for a year at the Detroit Jazz Center. Returning to Haiti, she quickly began a successful career as a singer, songwriter and band leader - an unusual combination for a woman in the macho Haitian music scene - scoring hits around the Caribbean with songs that mixed traditional Haitian styles with danceable funk, and featured her sensuous alto in politically conscious lyrics sung in Haitian Creole. Her looks did not hurt, either; statuesque and dark-skinned, she is careful to make a sultry pout in each photo taken with a fan, and onstage in colorful and elaborate costumes she looks like an island goddess.

Ms. Michel is now 38, and her music has grown more acoustic and intimate; her new album's songs of yearning for home have taken on a bittersweet quality as she waits in New York for changes in Haiti.

"Sun Nation" has a delicate guitar part but urgent lyrics: "Haiti is our misfortune, Haiti is our happiness," she sings. "We are not a diaspora, we are just trapped."

For many, the desire to return remains unfulfilled. "Some of us raise children and die, never having the chance to see Haiti again," she said. "You can't live in Haiti because there's no work, and so we all travel and we think we are going to the promised land. A lot of us are spread around the globe and dreaming about coming home."

Besides the recent political and ecological troubles, Ms. Michel said, crime has increased in recent years to such a degree that she cannot bring a band to tour the country. When she did four years ago, she was robbed at gunpoint by three men on motorcycles. She got her revenge by writing a caustic song about the incident, "Pe Letenel."

But "Rasin Kreyol," her eighth album, has comforting memories and an underlying theme of hope. One song, "La Karidad," written in the style of an old-fashioned, sentimental compas, is about young love in Port-au-Prince. Ms. Michel grew up in a strict religious household and had to sneak out at night to watch rehearsals by a big local band, Tropicana.

Her goal, she said, was to relate not only the struggles of Haiti but also its joys.

"If you only look at the pictures they always show of Haiti," she said, "we are always begging for something, or in big trouble. Because misery sells. But there is amazing stuff coming out of Haiti at the same time, beautiful art and music. This country has had a lot of suffering and pain and also so much strength and beauty."