Days 1-2: NOLA

There are four of us represent'n IU on our trip to NOLA and Gulfport: Jen, Erin, me, and our 3-L driver, Terry. We made it from Bloomington to New Orleans in about 13 hours. We could tell we were getting close when, while driving through Mississippi, there wasn't a grouping of trees that hadn't taken quite a few casualties. Then the tarp roofs started, and then trees that were bent north instead of just snapped. Going into NOLA, the damage was unsettling. From the elevated highways, we looked down on the residential districts where the damage was severe. It was a story of quality of construction; most of the modern, well-build buildings had damage no more severe than the need for a tarp-roof, but most of the residences were old and dilapidated. These buildings still had no windows, and had sections of the wall or roof blown away. There were a few totally collapsed buildings. I'd guess about 25% were inhabited, and that not much more than that was inhabitable.

The downtown area wasn't so bad. The buisiness district was mostly boarded up and shut down. Some of the appeared to have taken wind damage, but in some areas the wind damage at high level seemed non-existant and the ground level windows were still boarded up. The most striking sight though, was the garbage. It was strewn about on the ground everywhere, and we watched the locals add to it as we waited to get our room at the Hotel Lasalle.

One we were situated, we headed down to the french quarter for dinner and drinking. There wasn't really any damage in that section of the city, but the amount of garbage was god-awful. The stink was everywhere, and we were there to eat! We eventually got pulled into a place with a courtyard by a very enthusiastic host and were seated amongst the smells of the kitchen instead of the outdoor landfill around us. I managed to eat half a dinner before getting a bit dizzy... probably from a combination of being cooped up in a truck all day and breathing garbage fumes. It really was good food though; I forgot what the name of it was, but I had a sandwich made of salami and genoa, slathered with provolone and with "olive salad" instead of lettuce.
We wandered around a bit and hit Pat O'Brien's, and took a seat at their piano bar. We ordered a round of Hurricanes and shot the shit for awhile. Jen kept leaving us, saying she was going to the bathroom, but the bathroom was the other way! I assumed she was taking shots. (It turns out she really was going to the bathroom, but wanted to pass by the bar on the way to see if guys would buy her shots--which fortunately did not happen) Terry was trying to get her to drink more despite my warning that it was a bad idea (in part due to my belief that she was leaving to take shots, but also due to the fact that these were very tall, very strong hurricanes. The fact that there would be four of us in one room together didn't deter Terry from getting his flirt on. Of course, it led nowhere, because most people don't like to fuck unless they have privacy, so if anything was going to happen he'd either need a new place or a target with different moral standards.

Day 2: We split up for breakfast, Terry and I found an open-air restaurant in an area of the French Quarter that had garbage service. (About half the Quarter reeked of garbage from the previous night). After eating, Terry hit the Cathedral for service and I wandered around for awhile. I eventually found someplace that sold fine cigars and purchased a Macanudo. It's amazing how differently people look at you when you're walking around chomping on a cigar...Mostly bums anyways, I guess they sense that you have money to burn. Oh well. I did feel a bit guilty though. I was among some tourists, but mostly other relief workers and residents. I was pretty well-dressed, and a lot of people around obviously were in various levels of financial distress. Oh well, I'd be getting to work the next day.

Out by Jackson Square, there was a woman selling some amazing art. They were painted in bright colors on black background, and depicted street musicians and the architecture and life of the French Quarter. They were, in a word, amazing. I don't often see things that I know I'd like at home as decorations, but these really captured me. There was just something incredibly alive and energetic about them. I'll be back when I graduate to get me some golden handcuffs (they cost "several hundred" dollars). Maybe I'll get one for a certain friend too. ; )