Slowed down in the Big Easy

Believe it or not, up until now we had stuck exactly to the schedule we had planned from the living room floor in Lake Wylie. We had one night scheduled in the city of New Orleans, a highly anticipated stop to a location new to both of us. After spending the night in a Louisiana State Park somehow squeezed between the ghetto, the industrial sector, and the Mississippi river, we were planning on sticking to our original schedule until we got a call from our friend Scott. Scott had a cousin in the city that ran a bed and breakfast and was generous enough to put us up in a amazing house for not much more than the aforementioned campsite. The decision was a no brainer, and we suddenly found ourselves spending a few more days in the Crescent City, while also getting a crash course on pre 1940s year book collecting and trivia, courtesy of Scott's cousin.

In short, we really enjoyed New Orleans. It had all of the conveniences and attractions of a large city with a small town feel, and actually reminded us a lot of San Francisco with its easy going attitude and colorful neighborhoods. We explored walkable avenues, lounged in beautiful parks, shopped at a great farmer's market, ate delicious cajan food, and listened to incredible music. One of the highlights of our visit was a Monday night show at the Preservation Hall Jazz center, a dilapated old building just off Bourbon Street that has seen more than its share of shows and debauchery. We saw Gregg Stafford, a local trumpet player, and his band of local musicians blow the small intimate crowd away with their talent, professionalism, and humor. With ten dollars getting you three sets of world-class, high energy jazz, it's difficult to see how anyone ever gets any work done living in NOLA.

Of course New Orleans is not all good times, no matter what they want you to believe. The street trombone player outside of Cafe du Monde said it best when he announced to the throngs of tourists "Go home and tell everyone that the French Quarter is open for business! Two blocks outside the French Quarter is definitely not open for business, but around here we're back!!" Even without going to the infamous lower ninth ward the devastation and destruction was apparent all around. Whole streets were half abandoned, neighborhoods were still composed of piles of rubble, and basic municipal staples like paved roads and street signs were an anomaly. While the timing was not entirely analogous, it vividly reminded us of our visit to Phuket, Thailand shortly after the Tsunami. In both locations, the tourist area had been rebuilt almost entirely while the surrounding areas lay in disrepair and destruction. All signs of Katrina have been erased in the French Quarter, save the occasional FEMA bashing t-shirt (FEMA Emergency Plan: Run, motherf*ckers, run!!)

In places such as NOLA where so much of the local economy revolves around tourism, the tourist dollar is vitally important after a disaster of this scale. However, is it right for tourists to blindly wander through confined areas, spending money and reveling while others are suffering so much? Every dollar spent in a recovering area takes on grave importance - does it benefit a local business, a multinational company, or a disenfranchised family? While the rebuilding must start somewhere, it is certainly our duty as humans to ensure that it does not stop once outside of the tourist eye, and rather continues on to the people that need it the most. What did become evident in our brief stay in New Orleans was how the richness of culture, tradition, art, music, and personalities was somehow able to cling to the soul of the city while so many of their buildings and homes blew away. Although Katrina has long passed in the public eye, the rebuilding of NOLA has a long way to go and is unfortunately faces controversy and obstacles ahead. We can only hope that the spirit of the city will endure and justice will find its way home.