Baton Rouge, Here I Come!

These last two days have probably been my best two since arriving in Louisiana. That is because Amol, a good friend of mine from Duke, came to visit me in New Orleans on Friday! I think that some of the best places in the world and some the best experiences can be made infinitely better if you have the pleasure of spending them with true friends. This was the case with Amol. We spent the night together in the Quarter, having a nice dinner with the other people in New Orleans and then basically just hanging out, talking, and laughing afterward for hours.

One really cool aspect of this weekend was that I realized that, now, I truly do LIVE in New Orleans. When Amol came, he was asking ME where I thought we should go to eat and to hang out. He was asking ME if I knew directions to get from one place to another. He was asking ME where and how the public transportation ran. And most of all, he told ME that I already know a lot more about New Orleans than he ever did. By the end of the summer, I will have been in New Orleans for more time than he has been his whole life, even though he doesn’t live that far away. It felt good to know that, in a strange sense, New Orleans had become my home. I even had a library card with the New Orleans logo on it that I got today to prove it!

This also made me realize that I probably don’t know my own city of Chicago as well as I should. I’ll surely be more familiar with New Orleans than with Chicago by July. I notice now that I have a tendency to like cities more that I am familiar with such as Boston as well. Why not get to know my own city a little better? Maybe that’s something I should keep in mind for later this summer.

On Saturday, we went to Café du Monde to grab some beignets and café au lait while watching street performers in front of Jackson Square. Then, I headed with him to his place in Baton Rouge. While I was there in Baton Rouge, I made some observations:

1. LSU is inextricably linked with the people and culture of Louisiana. Of course I always cheered for Illinois basketball and football, but I never felt personally invested in the team. The connection felt by the people here in Louisiana to LSU is so strong that Amol explained to me that he and most of his friends would rather see LSU do well than their own out-of-state colleges. I was surprised by this, but I sort of started to realize that being from Louisiana MEANS that you are a part of LSU even if you don’t ever go to school there. I think this is similar to the feeling of North Carolinians for UNC, although I can’t say for sure having not yet fully experienced that campus. I suppose that’s one big difference between Duke and a lot of public schools (particularly here in the South): many people in North Carolina detest Duke (beyond athletics, too) whereas most people feel that they are one with their state schools like LSU or UNC.
2. People from Louisiana tend to hate Louisiana. I know I talked about this in a previous post, but I can’t get over it. Amol once again confirmed this observation that I’ve been making over the last couple weeks. While you try to complement many Louisianans on their city and state, they have a tendency to try to denigrate the place where they live. Still, at the end of the day, you can see that there’s something in each of them that absolutely loves their home at the same time. There’s something that tells them they could never leave even if they wanted to. When you remind them of certain aspects of their city that an outsider notices at first glance but that a native may have become completely acclimated to, they seem to recall what makes this place so great and what keeps the flame burning inside each of them.
3. Tying into the above observation, it seems as though people from Louisiana who are NOT from New Orleans may have a tendency to see Hurricane Katrina and its effects differently. To some of them, New Orleans was always a decrepit city, and the storm merely brought its problems to the attention of the nation. To some of them, many of the houses in the city were already severely damaged and falling apart, the city’s roads and sidewalks were already in dire need of extensive maintenance, and NOLA public transportation was always just as terrible and unreliable as ever. The storm, then, only made the city marginally worse than it already was in their minds. It’s funny. I really don’t see it this way. I CAN’T see it this way after talking with some of the people that I’ve met and hearing of their plights.
   

The Soul of a People

New Orleans is a city with a soul. It’s a place, but it’s also a feeling inside. It’s an idea of a world and a culture that is separate from the United States and yet also intricately and necessarily intertwined with that of the country. Native New Orleanians will stop you on the street or on the sidewalk or in the mark and share this feeling with you, but you have to listen to them. I mean truly listen to them. You have to hear what they’re saying and take it in. It’s generally not a good idea to talk too much in these situations. They already know at first glance that you’re from out of town. But you do need to try to understand.

We met one particularly strange guy we met on Canal who had lived in New Orleans for the last six years. The conversation started out with him saying, “New Orleans it the Third World. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” I’ve heard other natives make similar claims, but this conversation was clearly going to be different. Just as he said that, however, another native New Orleansian standing on the other side of us insisted that this wasn’t true and that he was painting a dirtier picture of New Orleans than he should have (this second man continued to try to refute the first man’s claims for the rest of the discussion). Then the original man kept insisting that certain groups of African Americans are responsible for the city’s problems. This was a bit scary because this man was clearly smart, educated, and sober, and yet he still held this view which he continually felt the need to claim had nothing to do with racism. He proposed that some sort of elite task force be commissioned by the U.S. government to aggressively and forcefully remove the violent sects from the city so that potential criminals would be scared away; he said “this city needs a seasoner.” Still, with all the problems this man had with the city, he also admitted, “I love this city…this is home…[New Orleans is the] first place I felt like I belong.” I know what he means. There’s certainly a lot of evil and crime and corruption in this place, but there’s something about it that’s strangely endearing.

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There are experiences like those I just mentioned where you may see deeply into one individual, but then there are other experiences when you feel like you learn something about a whole group of people—about a community. Yesterday at the Bayou Boogaloo was one of those experiences when you really get to see into the soul of a people. Off the beaten path of tourists up in Mid-City along the bayou, natives gather each year for a celebration of the bayou complete with food, drink, soul music, and (of course) dancing. Gathered there were local artists displaying their wares, families, lovers, and friends gathered for a night of lively music and festivities.

But this is all not intended to say that you have to get away from the touristy parts of the city to get a feel for it. Indeed, the Quarter and Bourbon Street and jazz clubs and night life are just as much a part of this city as the Bayou Boogaloo. On Friday, we went into the Quarter and ate at Mr. P’s Bistro—a fine restaurant specializing in seafood and New Orleans classics. It was my first taste of shrimp gumbo, and (I’m sure) not my last. After that, we spent a good deal of time just walking around the Quarter and taking it in. Some parts are disturbing, some parts are heartening, and it’s all really different. Strolling down Bourbon Street, you’ll find bars and strip clubs and adult stores. You’ll find souvenir shops and voodoo stores and clubs. And you’ll also find Evangelicals with crosses in the middle of the street. One of them handed me a pamphlet on how to get to Heaven.

Later, we headed out to Frenchman Street to checkout a quieter, more refined side of the city. Other than the cockroaches galore, which literally covered the ground such that you couldn’t help stepping on them, I found this to be a nice quaint little area and respite from Bourbon.

Still, a good night in the Quarter has to end at a jazz club so we set out to find one. Unfortunately, many of the most promising looking places required you to be 21 to enter so those were off limits. But finally, we found a cute little bar/club jazz place on Bourbon Street called Fritzel's but out of the hustle and bustle, and we entered. Performing that night were the Rhythmmakers featuring two well-known local jazz/Dixie musicians--Ryan Burrage on sax/clarinet and Jim Hession making a guest appearance on piano, and it was really exactly what we were looking for. As we took our spots, the band started up. Later that night, I vowed that if I don’t hear jazz better than that for the rest of my stay here, I will order one of their CDs. It’s going to be a tough act to live up to! As I looked at the posters and old signs on the walls and saw the peck of the keys on the piano (the top was opened up), I felt a certain sense of warmth coming from the place. It was coming from the instruments and the drinks and the walls, but it was also coming from the people. I was in New Orleans, and that realization finally hit me. It’s a shame I only get 7 weeks in this incredible city.


Just as a note, I intend to try to post about once or twice a week so this won’t be a daily blog or anything like that, but when something strikes me, I’ll put it up.

Arrival Weekend

As my plane landed at Louis Armstrong Airport in New Orleans on Saturday, I looked out my window, and I didn't see much. The same can probably be said of many people who visit New Orleans for the first time. It's probably easy to miss a lot of what New Orleans has to offer, especially in the wake of Karina, but I hope to see New Orleans this summer. I mean TRULY see New Orleans...

After checking into the apartment Saturday, we were off to Big Joe's, which is a neighborhood restaurant in the Lower Garden District that specializes in crawfish and other seafood. Then we hit up the Wal-Mart to stock up on the necessaries for the apartment. I have never seen a grocery, etc... bill so large in my life.

On Sunday, I felt like I was truly able to get a feel for New Orleans. In the morning, we went to church at the St. Louis basilica cathedral. This involved driving through Bourbon Street for the first time. When going from Bourbon Street to mass at the cathedral, the contrast is truly striking. Perhaps it's a good thing the two are located only a few blocks apart! The cardinal presided at the mass with the assistance of a whopping five priests and four altar servers! As we walked out of the church, the cardinal, the other priests, and the altar servers were greeting churchgoers. It was interesting to see them out there in the presence of New Orleans tourists--most of whom were not Catholic.

After that, we walked a couple blocks to Cafe du Monde for some outstanding beignets and iced cafe' au lait. We ate them at a bench overlooking the Mississippi with a great view of the city skyline. I can't think of a better way to spend a Sunday morning, and hopefully there will be many more like this throughout the summer!