When my friend Jay and I decided to go on a last minute trip to the city of New Orleans, we both agreed that we would not visit any of the areas hardest hit by Hurricane Katrina. Although it's been five years since America's biggest natural disaster, news reports suggest that New Orleans' recuperation is, in many areas, very sluggish. Gawking at someone else's misery was the last thing we wanted to do.
Once we arrived in the 'Big Easy' we quickly discovered that our hotel on the corner of Bourbon and Toulouse was the exact epicentre of all the action, which included but was not limited to; bars, live music venues, adult venues, restaurants dishing out gumbo and jambalaya, mystic shops, and pedestrians by the thousands, who journeyed up and down the streets of the French Quarter clutching either a) a musical instrument b) a drink or c) a handful of beads. We stepped out of our hotel onto Bourbon Street, merged into pedestrian traffic and quickly soaked up the atmosphere. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. On day 2, Jay and I decided to take a city bus tour (something I had never done before, in any city, ever...but it seemed like the right thing to do in New Orleans, a city steeped in so much history, I wanted to know the significance of this building or that sculpture. I bought my $44 city bus tour, proud that I was actually willing to learn something, never a pre-requisite for me when I'm on holidays)
Hurricane Katrina is everywhere. Not physically. But it is still very much alive in the minds of the residents who endured her wrath. And they are nowhere near ready to stop talking about it. Within a few minutes of meeting anyone who lived in New Orleans in August 2005, they are telling you their Katrina story. It usually starts with the amount of water that came into the house. For some, it was three feet. Some, seven or eight feet of water. And we heard horror stories from people who were desperately searching for loved ones while the water from the nearby man-made canals streamed under the front door, then exploded to a depth of 13 or 14 feet. One woman was lucky to grab a loaf of bread as it floated by her face, just in time to scramble to the attic; the last one of the family to reach the 3 foot high crawlspace that would be refuge to her and her children for days and days, awaiting rescue in the scorching New Orleans summer heat. Why did everyone want us to know their story?
The city tour gave us the answer. Despite the fact that Jay and I did not want to go to the hurricane-ravaged areas, within minutes our tour guide was pointing out the New Orleans convention centre, which provided shelter for thousands of displaced victims. We also saw the Superdome, now home to Superbowl champions 'The Saints', with sky-high signs celebrating that fact...but in late August 2005, the Superdome was another refuge for thousands of people who had absolutely no place to go. And, just when things couldn't get much worse, the roof of the Superdome had collapsed under the strain of the hurricane. As our tour bus entered the Ninth Ward, we remained silent, finding it difficult to grasp the intensity of this real-life Stephen King story.
From our comfy homes in Ottawa, we had watched the CNN footage of the devastation of the Ninth Ward, where houses had all but disappeared under the water. But today, it is a different story. Yes, there are still homes that are shattered and abandoned, but we witnessed hope- construction crews working diligently to restore the community. For every abandoned house, there are ten that have been re-built, with care taken to build them stronger, and higher, and tougher. Kids' bikes in the laneways, gardens, neighbours doing what neighbours do.
It may be a simple analogy but I couldn't help but compare Hurricane Katrina to the story of 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas'. For thousands of residents of New Orleans, their worldly possessions were stolen away and they were left with nothing. But the hurricane could not take the one thing that was most important, the spirit of the people.
I have never been in a city so vibrant, so full of life, so exciting, and so friendly. It can take you an hour to walk one city block, simply because everyone wants to stop and talk to you. The people of New Orleans are genuinely interested in your life, who you are, where you came from. They are passionate, resilient, with a love of music and food and fun. The New Orleans gusto is legendary. And they want everyone to know the story of Katrina not to dwell on the past, but to show that they are stronger for it. Go to New Orleans. They will welcome you with open arms, play a song for you on the street, and tuck some colorful beads into your hand. I'm happy to pass along the message they are sending: New Orleans is back, baby!
