It's all about the food

One of the many reasons that I love New Orleans is because the people who live here love to eat. And they eat well. Thanksgiving isn't Thanksgiving unless gumbo, mirlitons, and bourbon are present. Spring isn't spring without crawfish boils and Abita Beer. Every season has its food and every food has its cocktail. The city celebrates its love for food with fabulous restaurants, food festivals, museums devoted to food and drink, and many, many books on the subject.
One Book One New Orleans promotes literacy by selecting a city wide read each fall. This year they are also promoting this love affair with food in their book selection, Gumbo Tales: Finding My Place at the New Orleans Table, by Sara Roahen.
Another recent release of interest to me is New Orleans Cuisine: Fourteen Signature Dishes and Their Histories (University Press of Mississippi, 2009).

too hot for po-boys

Can it be possible that it is actually so hot that even a po-boy from the Family Grocery at Louisiana and Daneel isn't tempting? Mid-90's every single day with no hope for rain. Nature boy James refuses to go outside during the daylight hours. This morning I left the house at 7:00am in a feeble attempt to beat the sun. I arrived at work by 7:30am, drenched in sweat and went straight for the water cooler. Aaahh summer in the hot, humid south.

The upside is that I love the genteel hats, delicate sundresses and the increased presence of linen. There is something divine about a place where, when others are wilting, a New Orleanian dresses up, smiles, drops a few more ice cubes in their cocktail, and sees the heat as a perfect excuse to sit on the front porch chatting the day away.

comments made in passing

People talk to me. Pretty much any time I am alone in public. Let me modify slightly. Men talk to me when I walk or bike by - sometimes kids do too, but definitely the men do. It has happened for as long as I can remember. My assumption was that this happens to everyone. James is skeptical when I share my encounters, because neither men nor women talk to him in this way, so sometimes, he follows at a distance to see if hears anything. Usually, he doesn't.

"I sure do like looking at your legs." "MMMmmmm... I bet you taste better than this pizza." "Hola, mama, mi amor. Beseme porfavor." "Oh, I see you walkin by and not lookin at me." My question is, What exactly is being accomplished? I can't consider what is being said a compliment and it isn't going to lead to any sort of further positive interaction. So, what's the point?

For the past few weeks, as I walk to the corner of Canal and St. Charles to wait for the street car, comments have been increasing in their aggressiveness and graphic nature. A few days ago, I saw a man grab a woman's rear end and squeeze hard as she passed by. She just kept walking without missing a step. Shocked and concerned, I turned and chose a different route to the car - no one is grabbing my ass without consent.

The increased talking in my direction troubles me. Can't women walk down the street without being verbally assaulted? Don't we have the right to go to and from wherever freely? Today, after two weeks of riding the car, I took my bike to work. Simply to avoid the comments. Kind of sucks if you ask me.

counting down

8 more days at Tulane. 12 more days in New Orleans. Can't believe we're really leaving....

riding the cah

I've been commuting by street-car, aka 'riding the cah', this week. It's slow. An hour to get home yesterday during rush hour and and an hour to get in today simply because it didn't show up for 25 minutes (they are supposed to run every 10 minutes during busy times). My best time for house door to office door has been 40 minutes - I have a 3/4 mile walk from each stop. I only live 3 miles from my office, so I could do the entire walk in 45 minutes to an hour depending on pace.

Why ride the cah? Because it is New Orleans and I get to feel the cool breeze and get some good people watching in. Yesterday, about half-way through my journey, a man wearing bottle glasses and overalls began tapping his foot, then patting his knee, then humming, before long he was singing "Wade in the Water," and suddenly he was up and dancing back and forth down the aisle of the car, kicking, twisting and waving his arms. The driver/ captain started yelling at him to 'Get off the cah!' - so, at the next stop, dancing man shimmied his way up the aisle, down the steps, and out into the grass. There he planted himself, singing about the water and looking off in the direction of his next ride...

deep breathing and focus

When anxious about life, I find comfort in wisdom passed on from others. Today, for multiple reasons, I am anxious about life.

"Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you, they're supposed to help you discover who you are." -Bernice Johnson Reagon

"I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel it." - Rosalia de Castro

"Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but the ability to start over." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

So, I read what those before me have written, and I know that their words are true to my life as well. As I breathe in and out while contemplating our present, which is quickly becoming our history, James and I grab onto one another and plunge our best selves forward.

22 days and counting - before 'Operation Po-boy' comes to a close and we return to FLA to regroup and plan the next

Does he have some color?

A few minutes after the preacher departed this morning, I gathered my things and headed off to work. I made it only to the corner before I was stopped in a mini traffic jam caused by a school bus blocking the rode. In the two seconds that I paused, a short man crossed the street in front of me and walked immediately to my window. "Do you know what is going on?" He asked through my window. I thought he was asking me why there was a back-up. I said that I didn't know. He motioned for me to roll my window down. Not really trusting him, I rolled it down about an inch and quickly looked for a way that I could drive out quickly if needed. "Do you know what is going on?" He asked again. "No." He smiled. "Do you have some time? I think I like you and I want your number." "Thank you, but I am with someone." "Does he have some color?" Before I could reply, he asked again, "Does he have some color?" I smiled and said,"He's kind of pink." With that the man threw his head back laughing and walked on.

preacher on a bicycle

James and I were sitting on the front porch enjoying the cool temps and coffee when a man on a kicked back bicycle scooted up using his feet to pull him rather than the pedals. He stopped in front of our stoop and told us that his butt was tired from riding and asked if we were having a nice morning. We said that we were. He proceeded to tell us that he knew our neighbor and then laying his bike on its side stepped off and walked over to lean on the fence. He began, 'I can see through the muddy waters of a person into the clarity that lies beyond.' We just looked on. Before long he was pacing back and forth in front of our gate, preaching. Throwing his hands in the air. 'I am annointed so I do not get disappointed.' Then in James Brown fashion 'huuh!','mmmm', 'God is good to me.' 'You know he is.' Suddenly he stopped, smiled at us with a mouth not quite full of crooked teeth and said, 'Did I do good?' We nodded and smiled. He replied,'I said, did I do good?' James said 'Yes, you did good.' 'That's right!' The man said. Then picking up his bike, he swung his leg over and rested on the seat and looked back at me.'Am I good looking?' he asked. 'Yes, you are a handsome man.' I replied, 'That is nice to hear. And you are a pretty lady. You see, I recognize the beauty that God has placed on this earth. And you, man, you are (buff or gruff or something like it).' James just laughed and said thanks. With that, the man rode off in the direction from which he had come 10 minutes earlier.

bag-head

Bag-head lives in various houses and street corners in our neighborhood. Though we've asked numerous neighbors, none seem to know her name and everyone tries to stand clear when she walks by. So, to us, she is bag-head. We've often seen her wearing white plastic grocery bags tied strategically on either side of her head creating a hat/ windsock as she walks along. She wanders up and down our street at various times of day and night talking, sometimes jibberish, sometimes sentences. 'did-IT' is a common phrase for her, said quickly and in repetition. We can also always decipher the words 'white people,' in her sentences if we are in close proximity.

James and I have taken particular interest in her. We've watched her since we've moved in and have found that she generally doesn't want to engage with anyone directly, but she also doesn't want to be alone. She doesn't move away from us if she is walking and we cross paths, but she doesn't often make eye contact either. It is on a rare occasion that we interact with her directly and I'm always amazed at how clear her eyes are and how focused she seems.

Early in our lives here, James was standing at the front window one morning, no shirt on, cup of coffee in hand, looking out at the world. Bag-head wandered by never looking directly at him as she passed the window, she said loudly, 'Naked white man looking at me,' and continued on her journey.

She has a name and a history, but I wonder if anyone knows it. I wonder if we'll have the opportunity to learn more about her. I hope so.

'any gunfire you hear is most likely not the real thing'

This was the statement made to ease increasing neighborhood tension caused by the sounds of constant gunfire on Esplanade and Claiborne yesterday. The reason for the gunfire? Apparently, Sylvester Stallone is currently making a movie, The Expendables, in NOLA. Full-day staged shootouts are set to occur through the weekend. The filming was primarily taking place in an Elmwood film studio on the outskirts of NOLA, but I guess, they needed some street footage and came into the city.

In a town where gunfire is a reality and post-traumatic stress disorder (ptsd) is a common ailment, it might have been nice to warn already anxious residents prior to playing a noisy game of cops and robbers.


Way to go, Sly.

From my window

Today, from my window, I see a lot less activity than normal in the projects. The Times-Picayune tells me that people are applying for Section 8 housing vouchers to get out.

There was another murder on Friday at 4:30pm - a 16-year old boy. Residents of the Iberville projects are upset and trying to move out. The fourth murder in their housing development since January 1st and one of at least 10 shootings this year.

How does this make me feel? sad and tired. Completely, absolutely, overwhelmingly - sad and tired.
************************************************************************************

Teenager killed in Iberville complex shooting
Saturday, May 23, 2009 By Leslie Williams

A teenager was shot dead Friday about 4:30 p.m. in the Iberville public housing complex, said New Orleans police, who investigated two shootings within about an hour of each other.(Full story)
************************************************************************************
No official plan' yet, but change rumbles through Iberville housing complex by Katy Reckdahl, The Times-Picayune
Monday May 25, 2009


Housing Authority of New Orleans officials say Mayor Ray Nagin spoke prematurely when he announced last week a new "mixed-income development" at Iberville. But while no plans have crossed the drawing board, City Hall, HANO and public housing tenant leaders agree that the aging complex across from the French Quarter will be redeveloped soon.

There is "no official plan," said mayoral policy director Maggie Merrill. But Nagin saw his State of the City address as "a chance to make an announcement to people, especially those at the Iberville, that we're ready to move forward and make changes," she said. Read more..

Hey, that's my shirt!

A few weeks ago, James and I played hooky for a day. Sort of. We didn't go to our places of employment. Instead we cleaned our closets of clothes, office supplies, and toiletries we didn't need, and went on a field trip to three of NOLA's homeless shelters. The New Orleans Mission, a shelter for men, Lindy's Place, a shelter for women over the age of 21, and Liberty House, for women ages 15-24 who are homeless and pregnant.

Each day since, as we drive past the NOLA Mission on our way home, James has been searching anxiously for his clothing to appear on one of the men hanging out around the building or under the I10 on-ramp. I wasn't betting that he'd see anyone - and then, last week, we were headed through the stoplight when James squealed out in excitement "Hey, that's my shirt!" I was a little shocked and surprised and not quite sure what he was talking about. I also wasn't sure if he was trying to tell the guy it was his shirt and he wanted it back or if he was just sharing the news with me.



As we circled the block, heading toward the on-ramp, the guy crossed the parking lot walking in our direction. I grabbed our camera as we slowly drove by, James stuck his head out of the window and said, "Nice shirt, man." The man smiled, said "thank you," and stopped walking to admire his shirt for for a bit while also rocking back and forth. At the stop light, James snapped this photo in the truck's review mirror as evidence. "It looks good on him." He said with a satisfied tone as we drove away,"It never quite suited me, but on him - it's perfect."

jazz fest memories

Thanks to Kathy for providing us with our only photos during Jazz Fest! James has a few photos of performances, but no documentation of our existence at the fest. I'll share the other photos soon.

Mr. McDonald

Mr. McDonald is counting down. 8 school days remaining. Not a lot of hope for reaching the kids academically in the last 8 days of parties and field trips and 8th grade graduation and general summer fever. Essentially, he has completed his mission. It is nice to see him smiling again and looking at the world with hopeful eyes.

In these last weeks, he has begun to give treats to his students. Coming from a man who has been taking candy, gum, pencils, wrappers, rubber-bands, etc. from the kids all year and offering nothing in exchange, the gift of a cookie or a pickle is worth more than gold.

He was surprised yesterday, when upon handing out the last of the pickles, one of his students begged to drink the juice from the pickle jar. Mr. McDonald was pretty grossed out by this, but allowed the student a little if he poured it into a cup. The student happily got two cups and poured some for himself and some for another student. They then gulped it down with great satisfaction.

While on our walk last night, James asked with an almost worried tone in his voice if I thought the pickle juice would make the kids sick. I keep smiling whenever I think about his question. Partially because he's finally learning what it is like to be a kid growing up in the south and partially because he has learned what it means to be teacher of children.

New NYC Health Chief

Big news in my department today. Tom Farley, the department chair (Community Health Sciences), and my next-door office neighbor, has been appointed the NYC Health Chief replacing Thomas Friedan. The office is abuzz with activity as we await his return and more details.
***********************************************************************************

NYC gets new health chief amid swine flu outbreak

By SARA KUGLER | Associated Press Writer
May 18, 2009

NEW YORK - As New York City grieved its first swine flu death and looked ahead to more likely school closings related to the virus, Mayor Michael Bloomberg introduced the new commissioner who will take over the health department next month.

Dr. Thomas Farley is set to succeed Dr. Thomas Frieden, who is leaving to head the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Farley, a pediatrician and epidemiologist with years of experience in infectious diseases, said at a City Hall news conference that he is ready for "the best job in the field of public health."

Bloomberg noted that the appointment takes on great importance as the city continues to deal with swine flu. An assistant principal at a Queens school died of the virus Sunday evening, and several schools have been closed since swine flu was first detected at a private school last month.

Farley comes to New York from the Tulane School of Public Health and Tropical Medicine in New Orleans. He has served as a senior adviser to Frieden since 2007.

He also worked for the CDC and the Louisiana Office of Public Health. In Louisiana, he oversaw efforts to control tuberculosis, HIV and sexually transmitted diseases.

The New Jersey native said his overall goal at the health department is to "continue to make advances against the leading causes of death for New Yorkers today, such as smoking and obesity."

Under Frieden, New York City's health department has aggressively used public health policy to influence residents' lifestyles. The city banned smoking in bars and restaurants, outlawed trans-fats in restaurant food, and forced chain restaurants to post calorie information on their menus.

Farley declined to discuss specific policies he would like to implement. He starts the job June 8.

Fire on the Mississippi - view from my window

I've been watching it off and on since I arrived, trying to determine what exactly was burning and if the fire was getting bigger. From my window, it was hard to tell whether the fire was from a boat in the water or from the shore. Now that the smoke is beginning to clear, it is easier to recognize. There is currently a huge vessel on the Mississippi pouring water onto the fire and smaller boats zipping back and forth around it.


From the Times Picayune:

New Orleans firefighters are on the scene of a two-alarm fire at the site of the old Piety Street Wharf between Piety and Chartres streets. The condemned wharf, owned by the Port of New Orleans, consisted only of a foundation and was littered with debris, including lots of old wood, said Cpl. Mike St. Cyr of the Harbor Police.

The wharf is among several decrepit buildings that are included in massive riverfront development plan to increase pedestrian access to the waterfront. Built in 1916, the wharf had been out of use for 30 years and caught fire after Hurricane Katrina, according to broadcast reports.

The fire call came in at 5:34 a.m., according to a New Orleans Fire Department spokesman. By 7:45 a.m. the fire was under control, St. Cyr said. There are no reported injuries.

The cause of the fire is under investigation.

The first phase of the planned riverfront development, which was scheduled to begin before year's end, is designed to transform the area between Esplanade Avenue and Mazant Street.

Now a gritty industrial zone marred by burned-out cargo docks, the area is set to become a lush green space replete with bike paths, pavilions, a pier and even electricity-generating windmills. If everything goes according to plan, the park will open in 2011.

In the plan, the Piety Street wharf is set to be replaced with a pavilion with a musical theme, with plaques embedded in the ground giving facts about famous New Orleans musicians.

What East-Side Eye Learned in New Orleans

James' sister hasn't been to NOLA since Jazz Fest 2004, the year that the fest was canceled for one day due to rain. I love the pieces of New Orleans that each person takes home with them. East-side Eye.

annual visit

Conversation with my doctor today.
Dr. "So, what brought you here today?"
Me "My annual PAP smear and gynecological appointment"
Dr. "We don't do that here."
Me - no words - mouth falls open.
Dr. "Did you think we did those here?"
Me "Yes, obviously."
Dr. "What gave you that impression?"
Me "When I had my initial visit with you in October, you asked for the date of my last OB-GYN appt - I said May 08, so you told me we should make an appointment for May 09."
Dr. "Funny. No, we don't do those here. Is there anything wrong with you now?"
Me "No. Nothing."
Dr. - no words - flipping casually through my chart.
Me "Is there a reason that you would need to check on me in May if it weren't for an annual appointment?"
Dr. "I don't see any need. You appear to be very healthy."
Me "Maybe you could recommend an OB-GYN."
Dr. "Yes, of course. I guess you shouldn't pay for this appointment."
Me "I don't think so."

Stand by me

This video features two of our favorite New Orleans artist, Grandpa Elliott and Washboard Chaz. It was the first in a series of 'songs around the world' featured on the Playing for Change website. Enjoy.

Memories of my melancholy hoes

The Keller Library in the Broadmoor neighborhood is a one room modular unit that opened just recently in the lawn of the previous building which is still awaiting restoration post-Katrina. James likes to go to the 'trailer' library, because the DVD selection is good and everything is new. All the books are new, too. About a month ago, I was excited to find, 'Memories of my Melancholy Whores', a recent book by one of my favorite authors, Gabriel Garcia-Marquez.

I checked it out, read it, and sent it back with James on one of his many trips. Last week, I received the notice that the book didn't find its way back to the shelf. Today, I visited the Main Branch to get to the bottom of the issue.

I have to admit, I felt a little embarrassed when the librarian called the Keller Branch to ask if the book was on the shelf and read the title. The first time was no problem, but apparently, the person on the other end could not understand. So the Main Branch librarian read it again louder. 'Memories of my melancholy whores. Whores. Not hose! Whores!' Then she spelled it - like in a spelling bee. 'Whores. W-H-O-R-E-S. WHORES!' I have never heard nor used the word so many times in repetition and with such volume.

She hung up the phone shaking her head and asked me "Why would anyone have memories of a hose? That doesn't make any sense." She must not realize that a huge majority of NOLA folks don't pronounce the r's in certain words. Ward is wahd. Store is stowe. The plural of stores is stowes. So, of course, the plural of whore is hoes.

Whores or hoes - whichever the case. The book is still MIA - lost within the New Orleans library system. I'm sure there will be more story to follow.