–Sunday: 1-22-2006
Well, first things first: North Carolina wrap-up: The trees there are the perfect Halloween trees with veins and capillaries coming off of hundreds of branches stemming from a single trunk. I’ve never seen trees like them in person before and I found them very enchanting in an odd sort of way. And, lastly, I remembered something about the Q&A after the Davidson show that made me rather pleased… a guy came up to me afterwards and said he liked my shirt. Small world… one in which all awesome people buy their tee-shirts on threadless.com. He wasn’t wearing the exact shirt I had on, but said he also owned it. He was, however, wearing a different one of the shirts from that site. Awesome. Also: his friend was from Tacoma, and was the only person who didn’t boo my Seahawks comment.
So, onto Sunday, when we flew into New Orleans. All the flights we have taken so far have been on AirTran, and all have had stopovers in Atlanta. This flight was no different… or at least not by the time we checked in. We all went to the ticket counter to check in, one at a time, at varying times, like we always do. Perhaps this situation was a bit different since Ed, Garrett and David were coming to the airport a bit later than the rest of us because they had to return our rental vans, but not by much. So, the first couple of people go up to check in, and we get the weirdest guy who has to do things his weird-ass-backwards way. So, he made us all check in at once, in a huge clogging clump (with many people behind us angry at 12 “cutters” in line) and then, we each didn’t get a boarding pass until all the people had checked their bags, and even then, some people had been given weird boarding pass coupons that they had to go back up to get a real thing. In other words, checking in usually takes maybe 20 minutes for all of us, and this ordeal took probably an hour and a half.
Luckily – I use that loosely – our flight was delayed, meaning me didn’t miss it. Baggage-counter moron didn’t inform us of this, however, so we freaked out and rushed to our gate to find that tidbit o’ news. Not only was our flight delayed, but it was delayed by two hours, and then our connecting flight in Atlanta was also delayed for three hours. I bought some magazines and a Duke shirt for my dad, and spent a small fortune on airport food. When all was said and done, we arrived in New Orleans, about six and a half hours after we were supposed to…
The one cool thing was that just before we boarded out second flight, the Seahawks-North Carolina game started and was playing on most of the TVs in the airport. By the time we took off, I knew that the Seahawks were ahead 7 to 0. The captain also came on over the flight’s intercom and said that he was a North Carolina fan and was going to try and give us updates on the score throughout the flight. When we landed, he announced the Seahawks lead of 20 to 0. By the time we were leaving the airport, I had called home, finding out the final score of, I think, 34 to 14?
Now here’s real kicker: eleven of our group’s bags didn’t show up with us. And of course, according to Murphy’s law as it affects Melinda’s baggage, my two bags were among the missing eleven. We spend ample time filing claims and I, of course, flipped out just a tiny bit in my own way by calling my parents and Jerry to whine and ask advice on just what the frick I was going to do without all my stuff…
That night I slept in my contacts. Suzanne, our contact here who met us at the airport and was the person who arranged for all of the in-school performances and classes we’ve done, dropped us all off at our various residencies for the night. Since this stay in New Orleans is very different from the norm, (no shows and all classes, due to the lack of a single theater in the city,) and the fact that we’re donating our time to be here, we all aren’t staying at a hotel like we normally do. Some people do get hotel rooms, at the Omni Royal Orleans Hotel, (which is gorgeous, by the way, and I would recommend it for any New Orleans-bound travelers…) but the rest of us are split up between some very generous families and people who are housing us like exchange students.
I am staying in a HUGE mansion right in the French Quarter, along with Becca, Renee and Garrett. The two gentlemen who own the house split their time between New Orleans and Miami, and so for the first few days of our week-long stay here we didn’t have any one here… we just had a key and a house to ourselves. This house is amazing… it is much like an ornate movie set… there are outside balconies that surround an enclosed courtyard, and three bedrooms, a bathroom, an office and a laundry room that all jut off from the courtyard. All of these rooms, by the way, don’t even belong to the main house, which is three stories, and amazing (we just got the tour today – I’m behind on my blogging.) I’ll really just have to take it pictures to do it justice… it’s quite spectacular.
Once we put our stuff down, we decided there was no better way to start off our time in New Orleans than to head straight to Bourbon Street to take a look around. Of course, after maybe just two blocks, we found a hole in the wall alcohol-to-go stand. Becca and I got Hand Grenades in souvenir cups and promptly were wasted and wandering in and out of bars and shops and souvenir stands. It wasn’t until I wandered into what I thought was a bar – that turned out to be a strip club – that I decided it was definitely time to call it a night, and head home to our cute little room, with our adorable pink-lined twin beds.
When we got home, we were just a little bit too enchanted with our new home to go to bed right away, so, only after some farting around in our new digs, we all went to sleep for the night.
–Monday: 1-23-2006
My first impressions of New Orleans was that I couldn’t tell if it was a run-down area or a damaged area… this comment, it should be noted, is only in specific reference to the French Quarter, when wind and water damage was minimal compared to the other parishes. I could see Military police on a few corners, but no overwhelming martial law presence like I thought there might be. On the way in, we even drove right past the Superdome, which I had seen countless times on the news as ground zero for misery and abandonment, and from my view point, zooming past it on the freeway, it looked much less ravaged and plagued than I thought it was going to be. I noticed as soon as I stepped off the plane, the whole area has a slightly musty smell, I think I only notice because of my crazy uber-sensitive nose capabilities, and that was a bizarre realization for me understanding that that sensation was indicative of the flooding and the events that have taken place here.
The French Quarter is still affected, even though it has fared far more well than most places. All of the shops have severely limited hours, and all are very, very understaffed. The coffee shop I have been going to in order to check my email, for example, (CC’s Coffee House,) is only open from 6am to noon. I overheard the barista today explaining to a loyal customer they have no idea when they’ll be open on Sundays again, because as it is now the entire staff works every hour they are open every day and they need a day off… Their next goal before opening in Sundays is to try and extend the hours until 3pm instead of noon.
The windows are boarded up, and structures all show wear and tear. The affluent areas look like the poor areas would have, and the poorer areas look like… garbage. But there are signs of life all over and a general sense of camaraderie. It’s funny cause when I see a gas lamp missing it’s cover, or a sign post that’s bent forward I wonder, is what I’m seeing evidence of the hurricane, or am I reading into a car hitting a pole and lack of city utilities fixing public use structures. Again, this is just the French Quarter. Which, despite all these tells, still is so much like the Orleans square in Disneyland that I can’t fathom I’m in the real place. I love how much it is exactly like what I wanted it to be like… with the balconies and the narrow streets and the beads and the architecture… I love it.
Monday morning we got up early and Renee gave us the basic directional tour of the quarter. She led us directly to Café du Monde, a New Orleans staple that’s open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It has infamous french doughnuts – called Beignets – that are legend, local and otherwise, and great coffee. The coffee is particularly special because it is actually brewed from a blend of coffee beans and chicory. Chicory is a root, that during the rationing of wars and poor economy, was discovered to taste similar to coffee when ground up and roasted and brewed. So, Café du Monde serves part coffee, part chicory coffee drinks. It tastes great, but definitely different… a little more burnt than normal coffee. I wouldn’t choose it over regular coffee, but I would definitely order it on purpose at this spot.
While Garrett, Becca and Renee finished their Cafe au laits and beignets, I walked away just a bit to Jackson square and the Moonwalk and artillery park — all rather close to the waterfront of the Mississippi river roaring past. I took a bunch of pictures and was privy to the rare treat of seeing it covered in mist.
We walked from there to the hotel where everyone else was staying to pick up Chad, and then walked back to nearly the same place – across the street from Cafe du Monde – and got an amazing breakfast at The River’s Edge restaurant. I had an omelet covered in Creole sauce and a big ol’ bowl of grits. Both of which I thoroughly enjoyed. Just after breakfast, I stopped into a cute little boutique clothing store while we were walking everyone back to the hotel – the meeting point for those who were about to leave to teach the first set of classes – and bought two luggage tags. An act, I would later find out was me tempting fate, as my bags didn’t show up, again, when they were supposed to… but I’ll get to that later.