NOLA

Alligators, Oysters, Music and Culture

As Janyn and I pass through the streets lined with hitching posts, I comment, “It doesn’t feel like I’m in the United States”.  But we are.  We are in New Orleans.

The buildings are ornate and old.  Some architecture has a French flair and Greek Revival.  Then there are some buildings that beg the question: how they are still standing?

There are many homeless sitting on the sidewalks, asking for handouts; some are passed out in doorways.  The smell reminds me of many foreign countries I’ve travelled through.

The Cathedral is a tall and ornate church in Jackson Square.  It is the oldest cathedral in the United States. It is the third church on this site and dates in the mid 1800s.  The docents boast of Pope Paul VI visit to the cathedral in 1964 where he designated it a minor basilica.  It’s always a treat to look inside Cathedrals, but once again I feel like I’m in another country.

Jackson Square is a great place to hang out, listen to music, see local artisan work, relax and take in a couple of moments.

We change the navigation direction slightly and move to an area that feels more like the United States. Expensive restaurants and big hotels with artistically lighted palm tree lined streets gives me the feeling of visiting Florida.  Janyn and I enter a building and are immediately hit with bright lights and a stale cigarette odor. Some people are standing around tables waiting for dice to reveal an answer, some cheering at the result at another table. Others, with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in their mouth, quietly feed hungry machines that gobble up coins.  The clanging of coins and musical melodies coming from slot machines gives me the feeling that we are back in Las Vegas.  Neither Janyn nor I feel this is a good use of time and quickly leave away from this modern perfect world and back to the area that we have come to visit.

Nearby the homes are a wide range of bright hue, long and skinny.  They are dubbed “shot gun houses”.

The cemeteries are amazing.  We walk among the above ground tombs that house hundreds of people in each tomb.  Those that buy a package to preserve the tomb are well kept, others are just bricks in a rubble. They are referred to as Cities of the Dead.

Walking through the cemeteries is a walk through New Orleans culture.  And, of course, funerals are part of the diverse culture.  Kerwin James, a Jazz Great Tuba Player was escorted out in a celebratory manner.

Mornings are reminders of the night before.  A curious routine of hosing down the streets is an activity taken for granted by residents but horrifying to any Californian whose lawns are baking in the sun and begging for a drop of water.

Traveling outside the French Quarter and away from the modern city to where people make their lives, things look more “American”.  Typical fast food restaurants, in/out oil change businesses and grocery stores are ever-present..

Back in the French Quarter we notice that many businesses have taken on the Voodoo name.  The liquor store on the corner is aptly named “Voodoo Liquor”. 

Among the many oddball museums is the Voodoo Museum.  The Voodoo Queen of New Orleans is Marie Laveau.  Her pictures can  be seen in may places.  Born in 1801, Ms. Laveau was a free woman who practiced healing and Voodoo.  Her specialty was love potions.

There is the Pharmacy Museum – yes, I said, Pharmacy.  Louis Dufiho, Jr. was America’s First Licensed Pharmacist and pushed to ensure that his profession obtained licensing.  The Pharmacy, complete with contents and is on the National Register of Historic Places was donated to preserve history.  Go figure.  Who would have thunk it! 

As I wonder through the museum looking at old bottles, instruments and the cash register, I also see the “birthing room” where mid-wives ushered in new life.  But there is a curious object in the Optics Department.  There are lots of old glasses and Janyn points out that this must be where the idea of Steve Martin’s The Jerk Opti-Grab Glasses was born.

The Old Mint has a Jazz exhibition.  Pictures fill the hall and include the famous Preservation Hall was founded in 1961 to preserve jazz.  Their music is an important aspect of their culture.  As Louis Armstrong said “This is where you will find the greats”.  We meet a little boy there who lives in Texas.  He moved there after Katrina and the sadness in his eyes said it all.  

This is Preservation Hall - Imagine this is where the greats play.

Just down the street we run into the Preseytere, part of the National Museum.  By chance we walk in and come face to face with a first person emotional account of Hurricane Katrina.  The graffiti is a piece of a house marked after it was searched.  The picture of the man chronicled his day-to-day survival on the walls of a building where he took refuge.

As if to bring the audience out of the sobering mood of Hurricane Katrina, the museum pairs a Mardi Gras Exhibit; the antithesis of Katrina, yet the spirit of the people.

Outside the French Quarter is the National World War II Museum.  Reluctantly, Janyn and I decided to see it.  It didn't sound like something we want to do, but Janyn said, "We are going to be glad we did this because it will be good."  We just cannot imagine it to be that interesting.  We park our rental car.  On the side of a building was "Before I die" with chalk on the ground.  We pick up chalk and write our messages.

Janyn was right - oh do I hate writing that!  The museum was amazing.  It takes us through a timeline of the entire war, bringing more meaning to the immense struggle in this world than I had previously known.  I think about my dad, a Marine, throughout this experience.  I am glad I did not miss this experience.

Then we decided to visit the museum adjacent to the WWII museum.  We have mixed feelings about being in here and feel embarrassed at what we find.  The letter goes with a Confederate Flag that was preserved from battle and refers to it as "a priceless relic from our dear lost cause".  Yikes.

We will only be in New Orleans five days but we established a food routine quite early.  Cafe Du Monde Beignets and black chicory coffee for breakfast, Pralines for snacks found everywhere and Oysters at Acme for dinner.  

There are many places to listen to jazz.  Snug Harbor is one of them.  This venue is an unassuming storefront that provides entertainment by many greats.  I feel like I’m entering a Speakeasy.  Upon entering a receptionist is seen escorting people to their tables for dinner.  But given the right code words: “we have a reservation for the show tonight”, we are escorted to the back of the building.  Once again we give them the right code words and are given the okay to enter. 

We witness a great show featuring the great Ellis Marsalis, now in his 80s.  He is, of course, good, but the trumpet player is the prize.  For anyone who loves jazz, Ashlin Parker is a name to keep in mind.  If you listen to the video above, Ashlin starts at 2:10 minutes.  He can also be found on Facebook, Trumpet Mafia.

I love public transportation.  I’m always envious when I go to places where they do it well.  California just doesn’t get it and probably never will.  The city is just poorly planned.  But talking with New Orleans people, I learn the public transportation system is an illusion.  The street cars are nice, but don’t accommodate people who commute, many of which must get a taxi on Sundays to work in the city.  But for us it is great.  We are able to take the trolly from the hotel all the way to Louis Armstrong Park.

Louis Armstrong park is huge. There is a lake, cafe, an art museum, a place to rent boats or just relax. It is peaceful and a great place to spend an afternoon.  The best part is that a trolly ride to the park is forty cents. What a bargain!

Some tourists opt for horse and buggy touring rides.  Although it looked interesting, we relied mostly on our feet.  There's just more to notice when walking.

A highlight of this trip is riding in a small air boat in the swamps in search of alligators.  It is quiet, beautiful and reflective.  At times we are surrounded by these ancient creatures and the experience of being with a handful of people in a swamp is one of those times when I recognized how wonderful it is to be alive.

And so, I leave this packed five days and this blog post by reminding you that "when the moon hits your eye like a big piece of pie that's amore".