First Impressions

I'm writing from my new apartment in New Orleans. There's much to say about this town and I don't quite know where to begin. I wrote a few thoughts in my sketchbook yesterday so I'll start there:

This city is more beautiful than any other I've ever encountered. The trees are majestic and magical, the houses are unique and hospitable. The city emanates a charm which is sincere and unpretentious. Life ambles amiably - not concerned or even aware of the pace at which the rest of the world travels. 'Folks' smile when you pass on the street and make conversation when you sit next to them on the streetcar. Nola is an anomaly. It engages and delights all of your senses without overwhelming them (like a Wes Anderson movie compared to Baz Luhrman). Surely heaven must feel a bit like this place.

But beneath this surface so lovely (and legitimately so) lurks a deep well of sorrow and fear. NO's history seems to divide into two eras: before the storm and after the storm. (One food writer for the Times-Picayune dated his article June 10, A.D. 3 - After the Deluge). It's difficult to even reference the city without placing it in one of these two contexts. I wonder if people get tired of talking about it. I wonder if they just want to forget the disaster that so thoroughly destroyed (and continues to destroy) this place. But the levees still aren't rebuilt properly and a new hurricane season has arrived. Friends who left BS have yet to return. Lives and homes and businesses were lost and never regained. So much devastation - the equivalent of which this country has rarely seen - takes far more than three years to repair.

I read the newspaper today and the main three articles all pertained to Katrina. A to-do list for planning for your family's evacuation took up a whole page. The Army Corps of Engineers remain the bad guys as the levees they're currently building leak. The Corps assures the people that it's fine, but that's what they said last time... There's little trust in the government. Even after three years, the mayor doesn't have a citywide evacuation plan. He says everyone should have their own evacuation plan. Well that should've been the case last time too, but if people are poor and don't have cars they're out of luck. How hard is it to plan to mobilize a mass bus fleet? A few friends and I discussed this yesterday and realized the three of us could probably comprise a feasible plan in a few hours. Bureaucracy is ridiculous.

It would be hard to rebuild a life here if you're not sure it won't just be destroyed again.

But all this sad stuff is balanced by the good that's going on. People are empowered here. They attend neighborhood meetings, they want to know what the city government is doing, and they want to hold the city accountable. Before the storm, folks didn't know they could have a say. Now they're saying it. It's astounding how many efforts bubble up from grassroots. New Orleanians are truly indomitable. They fight for rebirth because there is so much to save here.

My one regret is this: Despite the genuine hospitality and kindness of New Orleanians, an outsider can never become one. Perhaps after many years you can work your way in, but people will always ask "Where you from?" Obviously I don't expect to call myself a local after only a week. But if I did move here for the long run, I wonder if I'd ever be fully accepted. I don't begrudge the locals for it - being "from here" is a point of pride that I wouldn't like to share with outsiders either.

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Regarding my life, I work about a mile from home. I walk or ride my bike to work. There's a lovely park right near my house - Audubon Park - where I go for runs and bike rides. (I biked 8 miles today and ran 5.6 Woo hoo!) There are a bunch of cafe's and shops and a Whole Foods on Magazine Street which is also close by. When I want to go downtown I ride the streetcar on St. Charles Street. My apartment is on the second floor of a house in Uptown. It has high ceilings and I have two roommates. The girl goes to Loyola for jazz saxophone and has a puppy. The boy is an mba student from Duke who's interning with a hospital. There's plenty of space for visitors :) It's hot down here but I haven't melted yet. July may be a different story. The food here is amazing. You would love it.

I miss you. Come see me.

-k