It’s been three years since Katrina rocked the Gulf. Looking at the Lower Ninth Ward, it could have happened last week. In the area directly near where the levees broke, the neighborhoods are completely wiped clean. Cement foundations and overgrown grass are all that’s left. In other areas houses still stand, completely gutted and sagging. The front walls are marked with large X’s indicating, among other things, how many dead bodies where found inside. Inspectors painted them in the weeks after Katrina. Residents still see the body count every day. Walking through parts of the Lower Ninth is like walking through a war zone. I kept feeling like I was somewhere in a small, foreign county in a town that hadn’t been rebuilt yet after the latest civil war. It was always a shock when I reminded myself that this is the same country I call home.
And then you head down to the French Quarter; hit Bourbon and Frenchmen St. Check out the colleges, visit the river walk. The city lit up, vibrant, bustling. There’s jazz again. There’s a sense that things are somewhat back to normal. It’s a divide like I’ve never experienced, a city that is living halfway between a constant party and a war zone.
So where do you even start? How can we still be asking that question?
I did do some positive work while I was there. I worked on a home in the Upper Ninth Ward, which was also hard hit. The home is being refurbished by NOLA 100, a group who will repair and rebuild 50 green homes in 100 days. I helped put in the insulation, paint the outside and fill/caulk all the cracks. I “mowed” a bunch of lawns. Most lots are so overgrown they are now filling, by no exaggeration, with small trees. Thus “mowing” involves several hours of whacking the crap out of nature with a machete. On one memorable day I even helped do some replanting in the wetlands outside the city. Hopefully that helped make it up to Mother Earth after the whole machete thing.
I met some really interesting people there, too. I explored the French Quarter with the “Frenchies”, three students from France who met for the first time at our volunteer site. I met an anarchist poet from New Orleans and a former 9-to-5-er turned Tokyo resident turned consultant from Birmingham. I was only in New Orleans for a week, but thanks to the city and the people I met, I came back with enough creativity and excitement to power me for several months.
New Orleans is still alive, still powerful. Some areas are deserted, some literally hum with volunteer word. Some neighborhoods, like Habitat for Humanity’s Musicians Village, are rebuilt and absolutely stunning. There’s a lot of drive for change and a lot of people who are hungry to make it happen.
And good thing, too, because there’s so much work to be done.
