|
I don't post here much any more. Though there are many fine people here I was losing my inner peace and being much less effective at doing something about what troubles me in this world because I was too caught up in the argument to take up the fight, if you know what I mean.
But I just spent two weeks in New Orleans and on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and I thought maybe someone would like to know what it's like five years after Katrina and a lot of neglect almost destroyed the life I grew up with.
I have to tell you, in spite of what many people, and many here, think of the area, I saw some of the hardest work and craziest, most noble faith in their own resources and unity of purpose I've ever seen. Even now. Yeah, there's anger and infighting and corruption, but there's also pride and identity and a tenacious determination that they will not give up, that they are, in spite of being treated otherwise, both economically and culturally priceless. The two places are alike in some ways and not in others--the coast is fiercely independent, proud and provincial, conservative and fond of its leisure time, which revolves a great deal around family and fishing and drinking beer and swapping stories. New Orleans is sacred and profane, a city of enormous passions, be they rage or delight, and those feelings exist side by side. Laissez les Bon Temps Roullez isn't just for Mardi Gras or tourists, it's a way to tolerate an enormous amount of suffering, not just from events but because they know that life IS suffereing, and if you don't fuss and fight and forgive and get just plain ridiculous about once a day then you are letting the bastards win. Forbes Magazine's judgment that Louisiana was the laziest state was met with a lot of laughter and a lot of "Where's the next crawfish boil?"
I know there is much argument about the poor who don't work, how hard it is for the really impoverished to come home, the crime rate and the racism and so forth, but that's not what I'm writing about. It's a terrible problem that is in a glaring light, as it should be. I'm writing to say I'm impressed with the spirit and with how incredibly much has been done in five years. In spite of what the news foregrounds, there is a Herculean effort being made by people both ordinary and not so ordinary. For the first time since the storm and the breech, I think the Coast and New Orleans might just survive in recognizable form. There's optimism, there's pride in getting back this far by doing the exact kind of bootstraps effort that so many people are convinced isn't within their capability. People are rebuilding board by board, working for years on a simple dwelling. Damned if Brad Pitt's houses aren't pretty cool, as is the Musician's Village, the new hospitals, and some pretty good attempts at building affordable housing, all spearheading a movement to keep the old spirit but incorporate the new. You can't find much criticism of Pitt; he's one of us now, because he's had more fight than argument in him, fighting, not the "enemy" but the disaster itself. Refusing to let hate sap the energy of a great place and a great need and just working and working until it gets better, seems to be everywhere.
So yes, this is a love letter. But I can't tell you how relieved I am that New Orleans and the coast are places that have changed, but that I still recognize. Back home now in the Northwest, I miss them already, because, frankly, that kind of determination is inspiring and meaningful in a time where so many seem to just be angry and finding no way to make meaningful moves toward making things better. It IS better. And, in spite of the worries about oil, I'm happy to report that the food shamelessly kicked my ass.
Happy Anniversary, not to the devastation, but to the survival, and to the ability to still eat and play and be "lazy."
|
Printer-friendly format
Email this thread to a friend
Bookmark this thread
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
