new orleans

My second view of new Orleans far outshined the first, since the first consisted of the underside of the city. For some reason little towns put the train station in a quaint little section of town. In cities it is in the worst part of town. But that may be just a post hoc situation. Also, New Orleans has little trollies which ferry people in circular routes adjacent with tourist spots.

I would call new Orleans a place of destruction and rebirth. Traces of destruction abound, either from hurricanes or the constant swampiness of the area. Or just hard use. They cant seem to make flat roads or sidewalks, but they constantly lay fresh concrete. Stone may not last here, but plants thrive. In fact, plants with replace brickwork if allowed. Saying a house has water damage is synonymous with saying its over 5 years old.

I heard some wonderful jazz. I also learned about the birth of jazz; it started in the red light district in the midst of prostitutes and bars. “jazz” is actually the shortened version of the name “music of jezebel”, jezebel at the time being the slang for prostitute. How odd that a musical genre started for accompanying prostitution has become the music of the elite music lovers. But that’s new Orleans. Out of a destructive practice comes new music.

I visited the French quarter. Amazing area. Wrought iron balconies overlook the streets from the second story. Sometimes you can glimpse the courtyard within the buildings. The profusion of certain stores seemed a bit odd. First; bars and nightclubs of various flavors (including the ones sporting porn in the windows), then the tourist shops, then art galleries, then voodoo stores. I kid you not. Unfortunately, most of them looked to be serious about their produce. Even more distressing was the fortune tellers in the pedestrian mall. For those of you who haven’t been there, the pedestrian mall is the small area between Jackson square and the st. Louis cathedral. Not 30 feet from the walls sit little tables draped with brightly colored cloths and adorned with crystal balls and tarot cards, etc. I got a picture of it. Kinda reminds me of something in the Bible. Maybe the part where Jesus goes on a rampage against the money changers in the temple.

In the tourist shops, along with the t-shirts and the beautiful masks, sat baskets of alligator heads. I assumed they were plastic till I picked one up. Its real. Hundreds of these little and not-so-little alligators heads sit for sale in all kinds of shops. I asked a local why they have so many. Its cuz the people eat alligators and save the heads to sell to tourists. Very odd.

Decadence. I never fully understood decadence till seeing new Orleans. Im sure there are places which display it even better. It seemed like if you had the money, you could get whatever you wanted and you didn’t have to hide it. The houses in the garden district stand among huge gardens full of exotic flowers, but the flowers do not overpower the house. The houses were mansions pretending to be understated. Thankfully they weren’t gaudy, rather gorgeous rather. Sadly I think the sights of the nightlife ruined my vision of extravagant beauty for a while.

I had the rare privilege of a personalized tour of the ninth ward where Katrina hit and most of the areas that were underwater. So many of the houses flooded still stand today, tho not in the ninth ward. I saw houses with red X’s and the date on the front. This was the symbol for no bodies inside on the date checked. On some houses which have been fixed, you can still find traces of the flooding. And every once in a while an empty lot sits between houses. I got to walk through one abandoned house. Plaster crumbled down from all over the house. In the ninth ward, only 2 houses still stand, both are brick. Everything else has been cleared. But you will find very modernistic energy efficient houses standing on stilts. These homes even rich Seattleites would proudly live in. the locals call these “the brad pitt homes” after their patron. Very unsettling sight to see artistic homes in the midst of recently cleared chaos. Catfish was welcome after that sight. Good food clears away unsettlingness.

new orleans night life

Ever wonder where my generation has gone? I have wondered sometimes. We are like a generation of misfits who chose the migratory patterns of life for the foreseeable future. Most of the gypsy people and the bohemians I see are my age (or they are disagreeably old). Well, I found my generation. I wasn’t really looking for them, but I found them anyways. They travel constantly, searching for whatever they want, growing no roots, settling on nothing but constantly experiencing whatever they can.

I have been staying at a hostel in new Orleans with people from all over. It occurred to me finally that this is where we have gone. A generation of constant transition. I listened to the others sitting on the porch smoking something, teaching the recent additions about the sanctity of their smoke. I began to wonder if it was more than just weed. I concentrated on my pancakes as I listened to a girl laughingly convince her boyfriend to wait to have sex till she was done with the dishes and back in their room.

When I say transition, I mean more than just physically, or career-wise although that is a huge part of it. We either work at random jobs trying to decide on a career as our interests change, or we return to school because we obviously haven’t learned enough to make up our mind about life yet. But the lack of permanence runs all the way to our foundations. We have minimal permanent ethics, if any.

Now that I have discovered that bit of info, the next logical question is why we don’t have permanent ethics and if this is more so than other generations. I would love to consider my generation special, although this is hardly a specialty I can congratulate. Why is it so rare to hold fundamental Christian morals? It’s not like they even consider something sinful “wrong” cuz it is so common. These sins are not new, for there is nothing new under the sun. I only wonder why people don’t consider it wrong anymore.

I had decided not to walk around here at night. But tonight I got the urge to go find some good jazz. I did find some, it was amazing. It took a while to tear myself away from the sound. No music quite like good jazz. But on the same streets as the good jazz were every sort of bar. This is a weekday evening nowhere near mardi gras and I still wanted to vomit after seeing some of the night life here. Alchohol, music, dancing, prostitutes, more alchy, porn, strippers, weed, probably stronger drugs, everything. Sadly, most people seemed to be enjoying themselves. I even saw a young teen, walking thru with her family, looking a bit stunned. Possibly the worst bit, as I consider it, is the practice of having girls/women perform for the public. Sex or showing off for one’s own enjoyment or for that of your love is one thing. But selling that part of you, whether it is actual sex or just exhibiting, destroys something in a person. It is never worth the money, but I doubt most of those girls ever heard that before they enter the work. Surely they could choose some other work, or depend on someone else? Do they even have a choice or has that been taken away somehow?

Oh, and in the middle of it all, I found a few Christians standing around a cross in the middle of the street reading from the bible. They seemed like newer converts, easily blending in physically but for the matching churchy t-shirts. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they earned a wide berth from the passer-bys. Im pretty sure their crusade failed before it really began.

Everyone there asked me, “isn’t new Orleans awesome?” I vote no. Not everything is terrible, but it seems like the negatives outweigh the positives, even café du monde with its amazing coffee.

florida

I have never been to florida. Never even been south of DC really. So when I awoke on the train to florida greenery, I felt as though I had stepped into another country. They have palm trees growing naturally under pine trees and none of their trees change color for the fall. Also, Spanish moss drips from most trees. Someone on the train said that was mistletoe and I wondered that anyone went anywhere without kissing under all the mistletoe. But then Ashley corrected my knowledge naming that stuff Spanish moss and the world made sense again.

Florida feels different and it isn’t the weather. Tropical beauty sits everywhere, taken for granted by most as they tour the tourist attractions. I did not go to many of these except the Disney village. Stores full of tempting things, artwork, build your own miniature car, etc. not including any kind of food you want. They have dinosaurs and sea dragons built of legos. On top of the arch of one building, they have a stitch that spits water at unsuspecting passer-bys. I am not a big Disney fan, I can’t even name half the characters I saw there, nor can I find the hidden Disney symbols; I’m too busy looking at the basic attractions. And that is ok with me.
Southern hospitality lives up to its reputation. Helpful, thinking of everything without hanging over my shoulder. Lots of excellent food when we ate in. Excellent food that I couldn’t get elsewhere when we ate out. They almost had an issue when they found me eating cereal. But that’s what I wanted. Sometimes cereal is the only thing which fits my hunger.

I couldn’t believe I was actually sitting with Ashley once again. I haven’t seen her since college and that’s the only place I ever saw her. a person in their home looks so different than college. More relaxed, less harried. I think I stared for a while seeing her so relaxed and professional looking. Makeup and nice clothes are a far cry from bed-head and hoodies. And her family got to finally see who I was. As I talked I watched them connect dots of stories they had heard from Ashley with my face. Oh, so you are the one who tried to kick her… you are her tutor…. Eventually we realized that all of us were on our best behavior.

I went line dancing at a country bar. I told my friend I would go as long as I had beer in my system quickly. Actually, line dancing is kinda fun. The only downside is the country music. I don’t mind country setting, country people (too much), or the clothing (sometimes), but I don’t like country music. Sometimes the lyrics make it bearable, but most of the time just annoying. But line dancing is actually fun. Besides, everything becomes a bit more tolerable when approached with a beer. No, I did not get drunk. I did ride the mechanical bull, and I actually stayed on over 8 seconds.

If you have the option, def go to st. Augustine, the oldest constantly inhabited town in the Americas. The atmosphere alone makes it worth the trip. The day I went they had a pirate get together, so we walked thru that. I have never seen so many jack sparrows in one town. They seemed to be everywhere.

We went to see the manatees in their spring. A deep spring feeds a decent sized river with incredibly clear water. Manatees themselves look like miniature whales or giant seals at a glance. But they have funny noses. They live up to their name of sea cows by floating for a bit, then moseying out to eat for a while, then moseying back in. I went swimming in the river over to the spring and looked down. Huge crevasses open up about 15 feet below the surface. Pretty amazing. Also amazing to swim with the current; I didn’t know I could swim that fast without moving much of anything. We went to say goodbye to the manatees and saw a turtle. And then we saw a large alligator climb up out of the water (with trouble of course) onto a log to sun itself. A lot of very exotic animals call florida home. At least, they are exotic to me.

Then we went to the ocean beach. The huge waves called to me, I had to go tumble in the surf. Its kinda hard to swim in the surf, but fighting and rolling in the waves I could do. In fact I love it. Walk out a bit till the surfs hit your face, plant yourself while the wave gathers water to itself. Watch as it rises to meet you, forming a white crest on top. Decide how you will meet this wave. Dive in head first? Swim with it? Let it crash into you? Jump over it? Make sure that you dive under the surf, not directly into it. Otherwise you invite the headache afterwards. My favorite is diving under one wave and feeling another roll over while still under the surface. Waves, unlike life, usually give you a short respite to clear your eyes and get your bearings again. If you fully tumble with the waves, expect to have to find the ground and the direction of the shore. At some point, you can just ride the waves back into shore. Then look down as you walk out of the waves; the water recedes much faster than your steps, making it seem like you fly but for the solid ground beneath each step. I could have sworn the ground ran towards the ocean in those seconds.

metro

Do you have that one thing which everytime you have to do it, panic rises in your chest? If you are one of the few lucky ones, you can avoid that experience as much as possible. I have found that experience that I would rather not have ever again.

The metro/subway is and invention of mechanical genius. Everything is underground in the city. You stand on the escalator which descends inexorably into a hole in the ground. Look back at the cement ceiling rising above you. I wonder at the feat of engineering it must have taken to build these structures underneath old buildings. Small ports open to the upper world. Otherwise, everything happens underground. They have helpful machines full of information for lost 1st-timers. Signs point your way constantly in case you get mixed up, which you will. Escalators take you from one level of the station to another. Walls round out to form a ceiling 50 feet above the platform. The trains sweep through, open doors, close, and keep going. Signs along the platform tell the people in the train what station they have arrived at before it is too late to exit the train.

Even the cars of the train have maps in case you are confused. Its incredibly user friendly. And yet, after all is said and done, it’s a giant mechanical worm which sucks you in thru its gills and takes you to your destination. Thankyou industrial revolution or whichever revolution gave us this contraption.

two sides of a city.

Most who have not lived in a city see only one side or another of city life. A city can be beautiful, a life lived in it worth every second, every penny. The architecture of quaint row houses, or old buildings set an atmosphere of solidity and vitality. The message is to have a good time with friends, speak of life over good food and a good beer. This atmosphere reenergizes a person for the road ahead. People walk most places because they can. One may pass several days in such a place and not even realize the passage of time. But that’s ok, that’s the point; living life without focusing on living it.

There sits another side of the city. The buildings bring no joy in their visage. They speak of people just barely getting through the day. You expect to see people up during the night wishing to sleep, up over nothing much. The never extinguished lights and the sounds of traffic perpetuate a feeling of struggle long after you reach home from work. Stores yell at you to buy buy buy. You aren’t happy, here, this will make it better. You own a car if you have the money cuz only the poor people walk anywhere. This is the dirty city most people bring up when they say they hate “the city”.

I sit in a mall clinging by its fingernails. Everything is clean, neat, orderly, empty. Clerks chat with each other as they eye the potential customers pass by. Many stores have given up; neat sheets of paper cover the windows. Everything waits for the hoards of mall-goers who used to fill this place. But they don’t come. Pitiful. A few children play on a mat called “the woodland”. It has a few sculptured stumps and logs to play around. Is playing outside so foreign now that they recreate a semblance of it for children?

Most prefer to live in the beautiful side of the city. Wouldn’t you? Hence it is more expensive. I would suggest that it’s worth it. Worth it to focus on people and company instead of cars and things. Worth it to make your home in a place that breeds peace instead of depression. At the very least, make your home a tiny lagoon in the midst of caves. But beware; only the very strongest of spirit can succeed in that. Whatever surrounds you will affect you.

scenery

I have discussed the train aspect of the train rides, but I never mentioned the rest of that experience. Most of it lies in the sights. For much of the first 24 hours, the train followed a wide river, clear to its depths. There is nothing quite like a mountain river. It clarifies the rocks and trees and colors around it. It makes the difference between an impressionistic painting and a realist painting. A meadow is nothing. A meadow with children and animals skipping through it is everything. Imagine a high rocky mountain. Now add swaths of evergreen trees and groups of birches turning yellow. It is beautiful, yes? Now add a wide stream skipping through the scene, carving out rocks and swimming though trees. The scene becomes breathtaking.

And then came the plains, flat and brown for hours on end. Sometimes a different landmass piques the interest, but most often not. The most notable thing perhaps was the coyote I saw talking with a raven. The raven hovered by the coyote, almost touching beak to nose. I understand how some writers animate the animals in their stories.

Then back to fall colors and quaint towns nestled in among the hills of Minnesota and Wisconsin. The land of many lakes (Minnesota) lived up to its name. it seemed like every time I looked out the window we passed another little lake, some hardly bigger than a pond. Also, the train stations switched to historic looking little depots, the kind a town passes ordinances protecting on the strength of its historical significance.

When arriving at a large city by train, you arrive by tunnel. So my first view of Chicago was of the dark underside. There is a reason people rush up and out from a train. Even through the fatigue, everyone wants to get out and see the upside of the city.

michigan

How strange it is to visit a place you lived while in a different mindset. I visited my college in MI to see friends there. Somehow some of the kids I used to watch in my church group growing up are now freshmen at my old college. Small world, aint it? I also got to see my old boss and profs and other friends still there.

This is what I found; the happiness I saw then was but a fraction of the joy I have now. The darkness I lived under seemed dark compared to what I saw others having. But now I know how little joy I had seen by the time I left college. It’s like lying under a rock watching others live in the forest where the light seems so much brighter. But the shadows of the forest do not compare with the sunlight on the mountaintops.

My respect for professors grew with the understanding that they choose to endure the tension of that college for the hope that others would treasure the learning they teach freely. I do now, but I didn’t while I attended there. I received the building blocks while there, but never understood what they signified until I had left college behind. Then one day it clicked. One day I started living the life saved for me. As I looked back at the place I spent the years previous to that realization, I finally understood the magnitude of the darkness I still lived under after becoming a Christian.

And so I visited with my peeps and let my joy show and hoped this helped instead of hurt. I wanted to tell them of joy, of life, of adventure, and the One who had given everything to me. I wanted to take the heaviness I saw away from them. But it is not to be. So I tried my best to lighten the weight for a bit with my stories and good humor. I find that this is one of the most necessary and yet hardest acts to accomplish. To put aside what you see and call up what you have seen for the benefit of those you care for. Oh how I wish I could zap them instantly with joy. But that is neither my place nor how it works. A person must work out their own path to joy, not follow someone else’s steps. Something is not worth having if it is not worth gaining through troubles and strife. A belief is not worth holding if it is not worth dying for.