Baubles, Bangles, and Bright Shiny Beads

Boiled Crawfish, also known as Mud Bugs, are a popular treat here.

Throw me some beads, Mister!

New Orleans, Louisiana

February 22, 2007

Carnival is New Orleans' party time. Mardi Gras festivities occur in cities and towns along the Gulf Coast from Pensacola, FL to Galveston, TX. and, over the years, we've been to several of them. Mardi Gras festivals in the U.S. began in Mobile, Alabama, but the celebrations in New Orleans are what people usually associate with the Carnival season. Events in anticipation of Mardi Gras begin in early January and culminate the stroke of midnight the day before Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten season of abstinence in the Christian calendar. [That's when the mounted police and the sanitation department's street-washing trucks, blasting water, dash through the French Quarter flushing out people and debris.

The first N.O. parade, Krewe du Vieux rolled on Saturday night, February 3. We were parked along the parade route and were in a good position to see everything and did not have to sit in our lawn chairs for a few hours to save our spot, which wouldn't have been necessary as we were in a less populated area.

Unlike the other Carnival parades, the Krewe du Vieux rolls through the French Quarter. They are able to do so because their floats (really mule drawn wagons) are smaller than those of the larger krewes. The Krewe du Vieux is a loose confederation of smaller krewes such as the Krewe du Mishagas. They are also outrageously satiric, often lewd, and caustically critical; they poked fun at the powers that be and those involved with the rebuilding. The floats are small and made by the krewe members, rather than coming from a float-making company. Krewe members walk, rather than ride on the floats, so there are fewer 'throws' than in other parades; limited to what they can carry. I got a bolt from a krewe parodying the contractors and Sarah got a decorated bagel from the Krewe du Mishagas. We also got 'stickered' by some revelers and, of course, got some beads.

Although the Krewe du Vieux was the first scheduled parade (There are parades each weekend until about a week before Mardi Gras, then there are parades daily, sometimes more than one in a day.), just before they came down Royal Street, where we were parked, the Krewe du Jieux came through. The small Krewe du Jieux parades on their own (unpublicized) schedule, without a planned route, playing Hava Nagila as they march along. We had never seen them before and they were gone before I could take a picture. I ran to the corner to take a picture as they turned along the parade route, but they took a different turn and disappeared into the crowd.

The following day (Sunday), we relocated (for state park stay-limit reasons: no more than 15 consecutive days without an absence of at least a week) to another state park on the north shore of Lake Ponchartrain passing through Slidell. Seeing that we were driving along the parade route, we found a good spot and waited for the parade. It was a 'family-friendly' parade, as were the others that we saw on the north shore: lots of toy 'throws' for the kids. Plenty of beads, too.

After a week of biking, etc., it was time for another weekend of parades: Mandeville, Abita Springs, Covington, and Slidell (again). As you can see by the photos, the parades differ. A small town such as Abita Springs doesn't have enough people to have krewes unless everyone in town participated; then there would be no one to watch except Sarah and me.

We were probably the only out-of-towners at the Abita Springs parade; everyone seemed to know each other. We were probably the only visitors to Covington, Slidell, and Mandeville, which are much larger than Abita Springs, from outside of the region who didn't have friends or family there. New Orleans draws people from across the U.S. and from foreign countries. It's amazing what a couple of bare breasts can do, also the major parades are longer with larger floats.

Sarah easily catches some beads in Abita Springs

A lawn mower pulls this train of home-made floats in Abita Springs' parade.

Other 'floats' were just decorated ATV trailers pulled by the family pick-up.

Many of the floats (a parade may have several dozen), bands, and other groups were in more than one parade. Of course Mandeville's high school band led the Krewe of Eve parade in Mandeville and Covington's high school band led the Krewe of Olympia parade in Covington. Budweiser's Clydesdales seemed to be everywhere and I noticed that 'Spuds MacKenzie' has been replaced by a dalmatian. [I guess that pit bulls have gotten a bad reputation after a decade of maulings across the U.S. and who would want to be with a pit bull that's been lapping the sauce.]

This float (left) was in the Krewe of Eve parade in Mandeville and (right) the Krewe of Olympia in Covington, used by different organizations.

Krewes are like fraternal organizations. People pay for the right to be on a float and buy their own 'throws.' The payments often go to charities. For some of the krewes, one must be accepted by secret ballot; in others, one need only have their membership check not bounce.

On February 14, we returned to New Orleans from the North Shore (of Lake Ponchartrain) to begin attending the seven days of parades that culminate with Mardi Gras (This year, Mardi Gras was on February 20^th. There is a fixed number of days (46) between Mardi Gras and Easter. Easter (Roman Catholic) is the first Sunday following the Vernal Equinox. As the date of Easter changes as much as several weeks in the secular calendar, so does the date of Mardi Gras: From early February to early March.)

Mardi Gras dinners are a tradition and the traditional desert is a 'King Cake,' a coffee-cake style ring with green, yellow, and purple icing (the Mardi Gras colors). A baby figure (originally porcelain, now often plastic) is inserted in the cake. Who ever gets the piece with Baby Jesus traditionally hosts the next year's dinner. The Kosher Cajun Deli sells kosher, pareve King Cakes. Do they contain a Baby Moses?

A leader of the Krewe of Chaos.

Many krewe leaders ride horses and are similarly dressed in elaborate robes and masks. They often toss doubloons, souvenir coins. Sarah goes for the beads; I look forward to getting a few doubloons. On this trip, a float rider gave a handful of doubloons to a policeman and asked him to give them to me, as I stood behind the barricade. Float riders often target someone in the crowd for a throw. I've never seen doubloons given away like that before.

A handful doubloons are frequently tossed into the throng and people scramble for them as they hit the ground. I was almost in a doubloon accident. I had my eye on a doubloon and a lady stepped on it. By tradition, if you step on a doubloon, it's yours.

Dancers from the Krewe of Muses, an all-woman krewe:

Endymion is the largest parade of the Carnival season. Above is a single float in two attached sections. Some are longer.

The floats in the major New Orleans parades are much larger than those in the smaller parades, which are comparable to those in the smaller cities. Endymion, the largest of N.O.'s parades, has 40 floats with 2500 riders, posses of horsemen, and a dozen marching bands. In addition to bead necklace (originally glass) throws, krewes also throw toys and trinkets.

Parades often have themes for the floats. This year, many themes centered on Katrina and its aftermath.

A publication stated, facetiously, that “every Mexican with a hammer is in

New Orleans.” This float repeats that theme.

FLAMBEAUX: Torch-bearers illuminated the floats in the days before street lighting
and electrified floats. Today, they are there for tradition.
They are not part of the krewes and do not get paid. Many people toss, or give, them money.

Some krewes are known to have special throws: Muses' shoes, Zulu's coconuts, Tucks' toilet paper, and Mishagas' bagels. Legally, coconuts, (stale)bagels and other dangerous objects may not be thrown as they could injure someone; they must handed off. It is difficult to get a Zulu coconut as one must get close to the float, and there are barricades keeping spectators on the sidewalks. As time goes by, it's getting increasingly difficult for me to jump barricades.

Krewe parades often have themes for the floats. Bacchus' theme this year was “Through the Eyes of a Child.” Each float was designed to portray a children's film. Endymion's parade theme was “Endangered and Extinct Species.” Each float featured a particular species. Some krewes have politically satiric statements lampooning local, regional, and national figures. Much of the satire focused on Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. We don't know all of the politicians or the issues, so much of it was lost on us, but there was plenty that we understood or could figure out. The floats are professionally created by a variety of float-creating companies and towed by tractors.

The Truck Parade

Some organizations are too small to hold a parade. Business groups, community organizations, neighbors, etc. participate in the 'Truck Parade.' More than 100 (They're numbered) commercial flatbed trailers, decorated by the group members, roll down the parade route tossing their throws into the throng of spectators. There are no marching bands, cheerleaders, or horsemen; it's as if a Chinese toy factory exploded as necklaces, toys, and baubles rain from above. The ten best floats are given awards.

Many spectators bring coolers of food and drink. Some bring barbecues.
There is a lot of beer being imbibed. Although the powers-that-be know
that there will be a lot of food, there are few litter baskets. The streets
become filled with food debris and broken necklaces along the curb and
on the sidewalk; by morning, it's all gone.

Banks of portable toilets are strategically placed and cleaned and restocked nightly. Many stores and gas stations close their restrooms and have several portable toilets in their parking lots. Some stores have guards to limit their toilets to customer.

After watching the parades, we went to the French Quarter to soak up the atmosphere, music, and spirits. Spirits are often 3 for 1. (Public consumption of alcohol is allowed, but not in glass containers.)

Party 'til you puke!

We spent Lundi Gras and Mardi Gras in the French Quarter. Because we were there so late on Monday and Tuesday's parades started early, and because we had a good parking spot, we decided not to return to St. Bernard and caught a few winks in the van before starting a new day of activities. On Wednesday, we slept until ten.

Parking in the downtown area is usually $5 for 12 hours. On Lundi Gras, 12 hours was $20 and $30 for Mardi Gras. We lucked-out by finding a parking space on the street and ended up saving more than $100 in parking fees and didn't have to spend the time driving back and forth. Also, lots fill early on Mardi Gras day, so getting a spot the day before really worked out for us.

The French Quarter, the popular tourist attraction of New Orleans, was almost totally destroyed in a fire in the late 18^th century, then rebuilt under the Spanish administration. By the 1930s, the French Quarter had become a slum that was scheduled for demolition for the construction of public housing. Prosperous locals bought properties and began making repairs to homes that had been demolished by neglect. Award plaques are given to homes that have been well restored.

In the French Quarter, many people were in creative costumes; some sexually explicit, political, humorous, or all three. I would have taken more photographs, but the narrow streets were so filled with people that by the time the 'shutter' on my digital camera clicked, what I got was an image of someone walking by or the subject had disappeared into the crowd.

A parade with one float

Who is the protester and who is the counter-protester?:

While wandering around the Vieux Carre, we noticed a change in behavior from past visits. In the past, some woman exposed their breasts in order to get some nice beads. Many still do. Others just parade around wearing only paint on their upper bodies and there seems to be more of them now.

Decisions, decisions....

The 'halter' that this woman (above) is wearing is painted on. It is two dimensional. The view from the other side is three dimensional. I can't show the photo of the other side on our blog.

You can imagine what happened two seconds later.

A painted butterfly emerged from its cocoon. She got her beads. Lots of people got photos.

People on balconies throw necklaces to people in the street; people in the street throw necklaces to people on the balconies. And not just on the major party streets. As we were walking back to Bourbon Street after dinner, someone on a dark balcony called to us and tossed us some nice necklaces, not one of the cheap throws.

Sarah shmoozes with a private security guard.

He and the other guard (right) each gave her a dozen necklaces.

As we were leaving the French Quarter after the 'flush-out,' I saw the same guy on Rampart Street. (It's the FQ's northern boundary, where the wall of the fortress once stood. The southern boundary is the Mississippi River.) He wished some passers-by a happy Mardi Gras and invited them into the local bar for a drink on him. It appeared to be a family group: Parents and two young adult children. Shortly after group went into the bar, the youngsters came out and regurgitated a bright orange liquid. When the parents came out, all four were laughing and seemed to be enjoying themselves. They weren't the only pukers that we had seen that night. [The American Dream: A Christmas that you'll never forget and a Mardi Gras that you can't remember. You can always look at your friends photographs; and if you've been naughty, on the internet.]

Eye-in-the-Sky

We did not feel unsafe while in the French Quarter or along the parade routes, or dozing in the van. There was an obvious police presence. There are also many security guards to protect private establishments. Canal Street, the western edge of the French Quarter, draws the largest crowds. The Canal Street Mc Donald's had two armed guards.

Sarah shows how well she did at Carnival collecting baubles, bangles, and bright shiny beads, stuffed toys, and two, count them, two Zulu decorated coconuts.

When Louisianians go into New Orleans to watch the parades, they ask each other if they want to go the long way or the depressing way. As we are staying in St. Bernard, both ways are the depressing ways. One doesn't get used to it. On each trip through St. Bernard, the Lower Ninth Ward, and Bywater; we saw some damage that we hadn't noticed before.

One of the things that we see every night on our way back to the campground is the 24/7 dumping of tank-trucks of sewage into the manholes just before crossing into St. Bernard. The sewer system is out and this is a stop-gap measure. They must be collecting sewage from the numerous FEMA villages, too.

Purim is just around the corner and Spring is not far behind. I hope that I'll soon get another chance to wear the 'fool's cap' that I keep in the van for New Year's, Mardi Gras, and Purim.

Chag Purim Sameach!

Laissez le bon temps rouler,

Allen & Sarah

To see the next post of this trip, click here.

New Orleans: Decimation, Devastation, and Destruction

ABOVE: Chalmette is about 12 miles from the French Quarter. Andrew Jackson and a group of regulars, volunteers, and pirates routed the British in Chalmette @ the Battle of New Orleans (1815). Chalmette Medical Center, St. Bernard Parish, was destroyed by the 2005 Katrina-caused storm surge. Man-caused degradation of the wetlands between St. Bernard and the Gulf of Mexico exacerbated the situation.

ABOVE: The Lower Ninth Ward (Orleans Parish), between St. Bernard Parish and the French Quarter, was spared by the storm and surge, but fell victim to the breached levees. Many of the fragile light wooden homes floated off of their foundations and shattered. In the Lower Ninth Ward (above), nearest to the levee break, there was 100% destruction.

New Orleans, Louisiana

February 3, 2007

We are staying in St. Bernard State Park in St. Bernard Parish, about 18 miles SE of the Vieux Carre (commonly called the French Quarter). The park just reopened last month. St. Bernard Parish had as much as 30 feet of water for more than a week due to the storm surge. (In addition to the water, more than a million gallons of oil spread through the community from the Murphy Oil refinery.) Devastation is everywhere. More than 90% of the homes were severely damaged or destroyed. The library is gone as is the post office. Major stores such as K-Mart, Winn-Dixie, and Home Depot stand empty and boarded; some with FEMA trailer cities in their parking lots. The areas look like the European towns that one sees in WW II movies where fighting is going on: buildings hollowed by explosives, debris everywhere, no one in the streets. Many traffic light have been replaced by stop signs.

There is little debris in Plaquemine Parish. In some sections, the storm surge took almost everything except the foundations.

Some homes have been rebuilt and some homes have trailers sitting on their lawns as temporary homes while reconstruction is going on. Some homes have signs that they are scheduled for demolition.

A FEMA trailer city in a shopping center parking lot.

Fields, parks, cleared areas and shopping center parking lots have been turned into FEMA trailer cities in the city and surrounding areas. Some industrial plants have trailers on site for their employees. Domino Sugar is housing 200 employees on the grounds of their refinery.

We passed the Violet Elementary school (St. Bernard Parish) and saw many trailers in the schoolyard. Teachers?

We've driven through the 'Lower Ninth Ward,' many times over the last 20 years going from St. Bernard into New Orleans. The “Lower Ninth Ward' had always seemed to us to be a depressing pocket of poverty with many sections that should have been replaced by urban renewal fifty years ago; now it is just dismal. Destruction assaults the eye no matter where one looks. When the levee was breached, the water not only broke homes apart, but, in some cases, lifted the light wood-frame houses off of their foundations and dropped them on cars and homes blocks away. There are many blocks with only a house or two currently still standing, but uninhabitable.

The family is living in a trailer until their home is made habitable

New Orleans is shaped like a bowl with the center below sea level. The bowl filled with water when the levees collapsed after the hurricane had passed.

Most of the damage to the city was caused by the breaching of the levees; the six levee breaches are marked on the tourist map. The breaches were all in new levees; not the ones built in the 18^th century. After the levee breaches were plugged, the center of the bowl had to be pumped out.

A lawsuit against the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers for damages to homes has been introduced. The suit alleges that the CoE knew that if water spilled over the levees, the support for the levee would be undermined and that the levee would collapse. This is what happen in the Lower Ninth Ward. The suit also alleges that the fresh water that the canals spilled into the delta caused a change in the salinity of the water which resulted in the destruction of the plants in the ecosystem and that this exacerbated the storm surge. This is what happened in St. Bernard Parish. The CoE had claimed immunity from lawsuits. This week, a federal judge allowed the continuation of the lawsuit.

“I drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was gone,” reads a t-shirt. “N.O.P.D.: Not Our Problem, Dude,” read another. As you may imagine, many are uncomplimentary of FEMA.

Business is slow. On weekdays, we've been able to park on the street in the French Quarter right near the attractions or restaurants; sometimes at a meter, sometimes free.

New Orleans is one of our favorite cities and Sarah and I have many fond memories of good times spent here. We have come to help support its recovery by spending our travel dollars here and have a good time; the waiter at The Praline Connection already recognizes me and my appetite. I'm glad that it is still here as it is my favorite N.O. restaurant. There has been a change, however. The restaurant serves Creole/soul food and sports a motif celebrating African-American heroes and musicians. In the past, there was an all Black staff; the current staff reflects the post-Katrina demographics of New Orleans and includes whites.

While undamaged, some of the divisions of the Louisiana State Museum are closed due to staff shortages.

The population of the city is less that half of what it was pre-Katrina, but the crime and murder numbers and rates have shot up. The murder rate is now 20 times the national average and is reported nightly on the T.V. news. Hundreds of children had been on a waiting list for space in a school. Some think that that contributed to the increase in crime; lots of kids with too much time on their hands. The waiting list ended on February 5 when two schools reopened.

70% of day care centers did not reopen after the storm, so some parents can't get a job because they have no one to watch their children. No jobs = no money = no customers = no jobs; a vicious cycle in a struggling economy.

No jobs also equals no health insurance for many. Last week there was a week-long free clinic operating in tents. Physicians came from afar to help; some from third-world countries. (It's hard to imagine that a major U.S. city has to have physicians from third-world countries donating their services in order to provide health care for its citizens.) The lack of affordable health care has been a factor in the 50% increase in New Orleans' mortality rate.

The news reported that about 20% of contractors are dishonest; taking money and disappearing.

To add insult to injury, St. Bernard Parish instituted a new law this week that fines persons $100 per day for an unkempt lawn, even if one's home is uninhabitable and one is living in a trailer hundreds of miles away.

New Orleans' Garden District, big expensive homes

The tourist areas, which are on the rim of the bowl, are still here and in good physical shape. The French Quarter, Garden District, and downtown were not flooded; they are all on higher ground.

The Cafe du Monde has been a fixture in the French Quarter since the 1860s.

Allen studies the art of Peru @ the New Orleans Museum of Art

The New Orleans Museum of Art is in the center of the bowl, but on a ridge. Its 40,000 piece collection was undamaged by the surrounding floodwaters, but the sculpture garden and building required $6 million in repairs. NOMA is the largest art museum in the south and covers all aspects of art, but their collection falls very short in pieces from the ancient world (Greece, Rome, Egypt); almost all objects are Renaissance or newer with nothing spectacular. Of particular interest, however, are several pieces that appear the be from Europe's Renaissance, but are from 18^th century Peru.

Some of the mansions that we toured include the Hermann-Grima House and the Gallier House in the Vieux Carre and the House of Broel in the Garden District.

Also on the ridge in the center of N.O. is Longue Vue, the home and gardens of very rich people and philanthropists, the Sterns. Mr. Stern had varied business interests and was the president of the N.O. Cotton Exchange, Mrs. Stern was the daughter of the CEO & majority stockholder of Sears. The mansion's structure was undamaged, but both basement and sub-basement, which had work rooms, were flooded. The gardens lost hundreds of plants and sustained damage to the fountain system. On our tour, we saw photos of the temporary humidity control system which had huge ducts going into various windows. The building sat untended for a month until staff was allow by police to go into the city. [Looter control] Wallpaper is peeling and otherwise damaged by the high humidity.

On all of above tours, we were alone with the docent except for the Hermann house where the was another couple. I don't think that there were more than six people in NOMA in the hour that we were there, except for the kindergarten school group.

Mardi Gras season is here. The first parade, the Krewe du Vieux, rolls through the French Quarter tonight. The parade is composed of floats from numerous sub-krewes including the Krewe du Mishagas handing out their rock-hard decorated bagels with a schmear (of glue).

Laissez le bon temps rouler,

A&S

Mandeville, Louisiana

February 9, 2007

We moved to the north shore of Lake Ponchartrain so that we would not exceed the 15 day limit at St. Bernard State park when we return for N.O. Mardi Gras parades on the 14^th. [There are parades daily from the 15^th to the 20^th (Mardi Gras).]

In the last post, I mentioned that the Domino Sugar is housing 200 employees in trailers on the grounds of the refinery. The elementary school in Chalmette (St. Bernard Parish) has house-trailers in the school yard. Teachers?

A causeway connects Mandeville to the New Orleans suburbs. It is the longest bridge in the world. Lake Ponchartrain is a very large lake. It is so large that, combined with the winds of Hurricane Katrina, it produced a 15 foot storm surge which hammered the northern coast of the lake and destroyed the ground floors of many lakeside homes. The sloshing of the lake's waters following the storm surge probably played a major role in the failure of N.O.'s levees.

On the way here from N.O. along the eastern shore of Lake Ponchartrain, we stopped in Slidell to watch Sunday's parade. Being at 1 p.m., it was 'family friendly'; lots of kids and toy throws. Sarah still got her beads.

While here we learned about the FEMA Limbo. The government of Slidell is housed in trailers. They are unable to move into permanent quarters because of FEMA requirements. FEMA requires that if their building is less that 50% damaged, it must be repaired and if it is more than 50% damaged it must be rebuilt. One division of FEMA has ruled that the building is less than 50% damaged; another division has ruled that it is more than 50% damaged: In Limbo. This rule has affected other city governments in the Katrina-devastated area, as well.

In another twist, the Federal government requires that local governments pay at least 10% of a Federally financed building project. What does a community do if it has no more money? That's why only 1% of allocated Federal funds has gone to Louisiana's devastated communities.

The Tammany Trace Rails-to-Trails bikeway (once the Illinois Central Railroad track bed) passes through Fontainebleau State Park, where we are staying, and goes 15 miles in either direction. The trail is is just the way Sarah likes to do her biking: flat as a board and straight as an arrow with no motorized traffic. It traverses forests of loblolly pines, magnolias, and live oaks and Bald Cypress swamps. When biking the trace, one hears the chirping of frogs and sees numerous southern birds. We've biked to towns in both directions.

Sarah goes for lunch in Lacombe via the Tammany Trace. It's a 12 mile round trip. As Sarah burns up more calories biking than she gets from the Lucky China lunch special, the trip is not cost effective, calorie-wise.

One of the workman repairing a trestle on the trace told Sarah about the alligator in one of the bayous and the panther that hangs out along the trail. We did not see any sign of an alligator.

As far as the panther is concerned, we saw the scat, but not the cat. That's a good thing because Sarah didn't bring a change of underwear with her. Also, Sarah and I have an understanding: She does the shopping, cooking and cleaning and I protect her from panthers.

[When we examined the scat up close, we saw that it contained small feline claws and lots of fur; Fluffy isn't coming home.]

“When called by a panther, don't anther,” said Sarah, quoting Ogden Nash.

There are parades in many cities and towns in the region this weekend. Tonight there is a parade in Mandeville, Krewe of Eve, which we plan to attend because we're here.

We have reservations for St. Bernard State Park for the last few days of the Mardi Gras season. Beginning on March 15, there is at least one parade each day in New Orleans until Mardi Gras. We are returning to New Orleans because that's where the big parades and the big floats are to be found.

More on the Mardi Gras festivities in the next post:  

Baubles, Bangles, and Bright Shiny Beads

Laissez le bon temps rouler,

Allen & Sarah

The Big Easy

Art Deco Louisiana State Capitol, Baton Rouge

New Orleans, Louisiana

February 2, 2007

We initially stayed in Baton Rouge (the state capital), where we visited several museums. The LSU Museum of Art has one of the finest collections of sculpted Chinese jade that we have ever seen. The collection was a gift from a single donor. (A guy with bucks, no doubt.) I have always appreciated the intricacies of jade sculpture, but after seeing this exhibit and learning more about the creation process, I appreciate it even more.

One of the things that I learned is that when a scene has color, the color is natural to the stone and is taken into consideration when the artist chooses which scene to sculpt. I also learned that it is traditional to use designs of the past. As these are stone items, this practice makes it difficult to date pieces.

The Old State Capitol, built in the 1850s, was burned, accidentally, while being used by Union forces during the Civil War and rebuilt in the 1880s. It is a blend of Gothic and Victorian architecture with a great cast iron staircase, a colorful stained glass dome, and an audio-animatronic Huey Long.

Audio-animatronic Huey Long

We also went to the Louisiana Art and Science Museum and Magnolia Mound, a Creole plantation.

After Baton Rouge, we spent several days traveling through Acadiana, the Cajun bayou area of southern Louisiana. Vermilionville, an assemblage of historic homes and shops, celebrates the life of the early Cajuns, those of French descent expelled from Nova Scotia by the British in the 18^th century and dispersed throughout British North America (The Grand Derangement). The Acadian Cultural Center at Jean Lafitte National Historic Site also tells about Cajun life.

New Iberia's Congregation Gates of Prayer

New Iberia, The Queen of the Teche, is the only Spanish city remaining in Louisiana. It also has the only active synagogue remaining in bayou country. The synagogue in Donaldsonville is now an unrecognizable part of a hardware store and the synagogue in Morgan City, which still stands by itself, is the office of the “Shrimp and Petroleum Festival.” (Two things that I don't eat.)

As most of southern Louisiana is near or below sea level, homes do not have basements and in-ground interments are rare. In New Orleans and Acadiana, crypts are the preferred method for remains of family members. As the remains decay, which is faster is this humid climate, they are pushed to the back of family crypts to make room for the more recently deceased.

For Jews, who largely believe in in-ground burial, and others, a slab of concrete or stone (ledger) is places over the grave to keep the casket from rising through the ground during flooding. In the Jewish cemeteries of New Orleans, we saw raised grass plots with headstones. The lack of trees or shrubbery indicates that there are only a few inches of soil over a concrete base.

Some of the numerous shrimp boats seen along the Gulf Coast. (Morgan City)

Remember what I wrote about the devastation along the Mississippi gulf coast? Well, what happen in New Orleans and some of the surrounding areas is worse.

In Mississippi, the homes and businesses along the beach were damaged or destroyed; a few blocks from the beach, most things looked unscathed. When we were there last month, most had been demolished leaving vacant lots. Here in New Orleans, entire neighborhoods, (80% of the city) were entirely or partially submerged. There is much more devastation and there has been little demolition so far. Demolition costs money, so many properties have been left to be demolished by nature as their owners lost everything and cannot afford the costs; they've just walked away.

A FEMA Trailer Village

New Orleans evacuees being house in a FEMA trailer village in Baton Rouge.

Fields, parks, cleared areas and shopping center parking lots in St. Bernard and elsewhere have been turned into FEMA trailer cities in the city and surrounding areas. Some industrial plants have trailers on site for their employees. Domino Sugar is housing 200 employees in trailers on the grounds of their refinery.

We are staying in St. Bernard State Park in St. Bernard Parish, about 18 miles SE of the Vieux Carre (commonly called the French Quarter). The park just reopened last month. St. Bernard Parish had as much as 30 feet of water for more than a week due to the storm surge. (In addition to the water, more than a million gallons of oil spread through the community from the Murphy Oil refinery.) Devastation is everywhere. More than 90% of the homes were severely damaged or destroyed. The library is gone as is the post office. Major stores such as K-Mart, Winn-Dixie, and Home Depot stand empty and boarded; some with FEMA trailer cities in their parking lots. The areas look like the European towns that one sees in WW II movies where fighting is going on: buildings hollowed by explosives, debris everywhere, no one in the streets. Many traffic lights have been replaced by stop signs.

Lower down the delta, the devastation was even worse. There was not a building left standing in Placquemines Parish, we learned in a Katrina exhibit at the Louisiana State Museum.

We've been here before. We've driven through the 'Lower Ninth Ward,' many times over the last 20 years going from St. Bernard into New Orleans. The “Lower Ninth Ward' had always seemed to us to be a depressing pocket of poverty with many sections that should have been replaced by urban renewal fifty years ago; now it is just dismal. Destruction assaults the eye no matter where one looks. When the levee was breached, the water not only broke homes apart, but, in some cases, lifted the light wood-frame houses off of their foundations and dropped them on cars and homes blocks away.

The tourist areas are still here and in good physical shape. The French Quarter, Garden District, and downtown were not flooded; they are all on higher ground. New Orleans is shaped like a bowl with the center below sea level. Most of the damage to the city was caused by the breaching of the levees after hurricane Katrina passed; the six levee breaches are marked on the tourist map. The breaches were all in new levees; not the ones built in the 18^th century. After the levee breaches were plugged, the center of the bowl had to be pumped out.

There is just so much devastation that each time we drive into N.O. from St. Bernard, we see something that we hadn't noticed before. We plan to send a fuller report with more photos later as we explore more of the city and surrounding areas.

Mardi Gras is just around the corner. We can use the break.

Laissez le bon temps rouler,

A&S

To see the next post of this trip:  

New Orleans: Decimation, Devastation, and Destruction