New Orleans

On our last day in the city- I was able to sit outside and enjoy the sunshine for a couple of hours before we had to head to the airport.  These are some of the reflections I wrote that day.

What a beautiful disaster this city is... after a week at the mercy of its people, its weather and its song, I am prepared to go home.  As I sit outside on a park bench basking in this sun drenched world, I feel like my eyes have finally been opened to the heart of this wonderful city.  Nights spent listening to live jazz, east coast swing and various street performers has shown me just how resilient this city really is.  The destruction is not evident from where I have been, but the fear caused by the devastation is still eminent.  I would be remissed if I did not mention the strength that lives inside of these people.  Their courage is unmistakable.

The streets are rich with history- the small narrow cobblestone streets remind me of those in lower Manhattan or those of European cites I have visited- Amsterdam, Colon, London.  The vibrant colors of the buildings are straight out of Venice and with the wooden shutters all drawn, it reminds me of a small village town in Scotland.  This city has been owned by two foreign nations and belongs as a state to a third.  As if needing reminding of which country this city currently belongs to, I am sitting across from the United States Custom House.  The lamp post to my left has stamps on all four sides of its base marking which country was in control when: French Domination 1718-1769, Spanish domination 1769-1803, American domination 1803-1861 and 1865-present, Confederate domination 1861-1865.  Not surprising that this port city, so perfectly located on a river and not far from the ocean, has been occupied by so many different countries.

Each building, especially those of the French Quarter, has soul, character, life and a story.  A sign across the street says "Castillo's Restaurant" and it must be at least 100 years old and the building in which it is adorned, even older.  Everyone here lives an alternative life- jazz musician by night and fill in the blank by day.  As soon as the sun sets, this city comes alive.  A stroll down any street and you are privileged to a private concert by a very talented musician whose talent long precedes him/her in the genes of his ancestors.  Musical instruments taught to be played by mothers and father, these musicians are talented beyond their years.

There are many ironic things about this city.  In the center of Jackson's Square is this big, beautiful cathedral.  It reminds me of those in very old Catholic nations.  The ironic part is the dozens of men and women who read tarot cards to those passing in front of the church.  Another source of irony is that the graves in the cemeteries are sinking.  This is indeed trippy to see!

So those are just some of my reflections of my time in the Big Easy.  I had a fantastic time in a very crazy city!  I promise to post pictures to the blog tomorrow!

Emily 

Just one example of the colorful houses

French Market

Streets of NOLA