First Week in NOLA
Flying over the state of Louisiana as my plane descended into a muggy abyss of clouds and swamps, my heart began to race with excitement. It has been 3 and a half years since I last stayed in the city of New Orleans on a life changing exploration of blues music, and I felt a small rush of adrenaline when the reality of my trip set in. Once my feet stepped off of the plane, every single one of my senses was overwhelmed with shock and excitement at the unexperienced mixed with deep nostalgia and familiarity. The air was hot and sticky, yet the sky a muddy gray and the voices of the airport employees sang strong with thick Louisiana accents.
The first thing I noticed while walking through the airport (after a red eye and 2 hour layover… my mind was in a very squishy place) were the smiles. From the taxi drivers to those working storefronts or waiting tables, even simply walking down the streets, the people in New Orleans are alive and seem cheerful. Or at least they let it show. There seems to be no space here for pretending. Even negative emotions are shown without walls. And people seem more inclined to talk with strangers – everyone is friends.
I arrived at my old friend’s house – green stucco with a small front porch covered in various plants from mini palm trees to tomatoes, as well as a dead cockroach- and settled in for just a minute only to be dragged out to a breakfast joint down the road, where everything is seasoned with Cajun flavors and comes with a side of grits.
That night we took a long walk through the nearby neighborhoods and visited the campuses of Tulane and Loyola. After awhile we made our way to a large inner city park with trails that wrap around a golf course and several ponds which were buzzing with mosquitos and massive bugs I’ve never seen before. The trees reached high but hung low, creating mini havens of refuge throughout the park. Each person who passed by gave a cheerful “hello!”. We then tried some local fermented beverage, Abita, which comes in a purple can and contains raspberry flavor to add a fruity sweetness. The packaging is very “New Orleans”- fun colors, advertises a good time, and contains extra sweetness. The flavor was slightly reminiscent of pee and berries. I feel like it wouldn’t have tasted great somewhere else, but the weather and surroundings turn it into an ideal drink.
The next day, feeling overwhelmed with excitement and curiosity, I made it my mission to walk all the way to the French Quarter from where I am staying as well as visit the places that Sarah recommended. This turned into a day of exploring for over 12 miles on foot. Not once did I get bored. The colors, architecture, smells – literally everything – kept me captivated and intrigued the entire time. I spoke with locals and ate some traditional cuisine – coffee with chicory, real southern BBQ and a fried shrimp po-boy. The flavors are very particular to the place. Even po boys, which are in all honesty just a deli sandwich, have something about them that I have not tasted anywhere else. Every tourist store advertises spices and recipes to take home, but in reality it is an experience that cannot be recreated anywhere else. It is not just about the taste of the food itself either. The music, the air, the smells, the people, the colors – all of it play into why a meal in New Orleans is so fantastic.
While everything is stunning and happy, in the midst of all the wonderfulness there is always the reality of wealth disparity, poverty and drug use which I also noticed as I walked. Cities always have this juxtaposition and it is something that I find sad yet beautiful. Every place has every type of person, but something about NOLA unifies them all.
I spoke with a taxi driver on the way home who turned out to be a native of New Orleans as well as a fisherman. We talked about oysters for a good part of the drive. I learned that all of NOLA’s oysters are caught wild. No bags or other methods of farming are used. The spawn is thrown into the muddy water and rests along the bed. I did wonder, and will do further research to find answers, how destructive the harvesting of shellfish in the area must be to the local ecosystems and what methods are used to bring the shocking number of oysters from the water to the table. Environmental concern is not very big in this city from what I have seen thus far (it is only the beginning). Plastic bags are used without thought at grocery stores. When I went shopping, my bread and eggs were put in bags of their own, something that would never happen in Olympia or the Bay Area where I am from. I’m curious about exploring the steps people may be taking to live sustainably in this environment. I’m also curious about the mycology of the area. I have been noticing many different mushrooms and fungi, some I’ve never seen before and some that I’m almost positive I identified correctly. There is not much of a culture surrounding these subjects, which makes sense seeing as it is a city with so many other things to keep one occupied.