Still without a camera, we trekked across Lake Pontchartrain into the underwater city, or what had so recently been resurrected from beneath the waves of hurricane Katrina. I think we mostly expected the city to be built back up by this time. Unfortunately, it wasn't. We stayed with a Lutheran vicar in the Uptown area, most of the neighboring houses had been abandoned and still were. Some were boarded up; some were looted pretty regularly (even during the day). In some parts, you could easily tell the water damage. There were road-closures and construction all over the place. They had made the French Quarter a priority to rebuild and get back in working order, but many of the suburbs of the city are still working on it. The church at which we sang was a tiny congregation (about 30), and it had taken them two years to re-open their doors. We went up on top of the church tower to examine the city from birds-eye view. The vicar pointed out to us the famous churches and congregations (he pointed out the Latin Mass congregation just to the East of the French Quarter at St. Patrick's).
In the afternoon we examined the French Quarter. Parking at Esplanade, we wound back and forth on the streets from Canal St. to Chartres St. to Bourbon St. to Dauphine St. We saw the Basilica of St. Louis, the statue of Joan of Arc, the...ummm...colorful shops and bars along Bourbon St, but we could never conclude that the city had come back to the fulness of life it once had. On Chartres street we saw row after row of abandoned antique shops. The used bookstore we stopped in was one of the few on that street which had been so famous for them before. We stopped in a mask shop and talked to a local for quite a while. She had lost quite a few antiques in the hurricane, and even though she had been high and dry in a hotel, was shipped off to North Carolina in the name of aid. She had re-settled in the city recently and was now just trying to live and work a light load in her retirement. She acknowledged that the city was not what it used to be.
The other thing we noticed, of course, was the complete mix of cultures that New Orleans was. Obviously, as an important port city, it brought all kinds to its shores. Many stayed and settled. There is still a pretty intense Catholic streak down deep somewhere--the statue to St. Joan might give that away--Catholics of a Spanish and French variety mostly. We got Cafe au Lait and Bengettes at Cafe du Monde, they were sugary goodness for sure. There were also large populations of Creole and Cajun. I had Jumbalaya for lunch, Keaton and Allen had Po-Boy sandwiches, and Nathan had a Muffaletta. They were all signature dishes of New Orleans and they were all delicious. Instead of eating at Mother's, we opted for a place recommended by Keaton's mom called Masparo's. We returned to the vicarage to sing that night. The concert went fairly well, definitely for our smallest crowd yet, but they were receptive and nice. As it was, we got about a third of the congregation to be there, so I guess statistically we did well. We knew we had a long drive ahead of us the next day down to Corpus Christi, so we didn't want to stay out too late. We went to a street called the Frenchmen and walked up and down past a bunch of jazz clubs and bars. Some had cover charges. We opted for where we could get cheap food and beer. We tried some of the local stuff (NOLA and Abita Brown), grabbed a bite to eat, and then headed off to bed. New Orleans was a great town, I pray that it continues to recover at least some of its former glory. I also never, EVER want to be there during Mardi Gras. Bourbon Street was pretty crazy by itself without an excuse to "celebrate" and remove clothing.
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