N.O.: Day Two

Totally buzzed. Why am I drinking 4 times as heavily as I do in Crimson City? Dunno. But very happy. Due to beer, vodka martini, beer, and vodka tonic.

At lunch at the Love Tent – this free food service set up in St. Bernard’s parish by hippies from California. Man, I don’t know where they get their funding, but the food they served was amazing – homemade clam soup, pasta salad with cilantro accents, fresh salad with crisp vegetables, a healthy chunk of ham, some kind of apple/oatmeal dessert. And the chefs came through the tent singing the menu, “Pasta! Pasta salad! Pasta pasta! Pasta saaaalad!” And there was a violin player. And Acupuncture Without Borders.

Went to see Ward 9 – total devastation, like the hurricane had hit last week. Mack truck on side, with white couch hanging off the top; a house ON TOP of a car, some houses so completely wiped out by the sudden rush of water from the broken levee that there was simply no hit of their previous existence on the lots. Astounding that this happened 5 months ago and no hint of demolition, movement toward the future, reconstruction. It’s infinitely sad and incredibly enraging.

Then went to a great Indian restaurant and then a very cool bar owned by Harry Anderson from Night Court fame – he has held a Wednesday night town meeting for the past 21 weeks, first to let everyone know what was going on and then to just vent. Tonight the police chief of N.O. was there to answer questions, some of which were tough and some of which were – well, one guy asked where could find stuff that had been looted, if the police had some record system, and: (1) a woman with a European accent said, “yes, my bra was looted,” to much laughter, and (2) the police chief said, “If the authorities took it, uh, there won’t be any record,” again to much laughter. There was anger and frustration and humor, and the whole room was white people. It was inspiring and maddening, and I was glad we were there.

To dwown one’s sorrows in dwink – it is exactly what I am doing. It’s so strange – I feel so energized by being here, and yet so devastated by – for example – the ruins (again, FIVE MONTHS after Katrina) in Ward 9. I can barely process what is happening, except that I am glad to be here, soaking it all in – the beauty of the Marigny district, with its elegant houses; the matter-of-fact attitudes of the people at the Disaster Relief Center set up in a Walmart parking lot in St. Bernard’s parish, where the water level reached 9 feet or so; the vitality and civilized anger of the French Quarter residents complaining about parking and street entertainers; the kindness and patience and diligence of my co-volunteers.