a document of days

It has taken me quite some time to deconstruct my experience in New Orleans. Moving through the city evoked waves of emotion - one thought or feeling often contradicted by the next. In some moments I felt as if time had stood still -- we found many old friends in the exact same place we'd left them in August 2005, some in the middle of what seemed to be the same conversation. And while this was incredibly awe-inspiring, so was the fact that other moments left us feeling stranded and unable to grasp how much had changed, or how much had been left to decay.

Our entire trip was an adventure of rediscovery, of tracing old paths and finding ourselves continuously amazed by both the resilience and the frailty of the city and its people.

When Ryan and I first moved to New Orleans in the summer of 2002, we lived in Mid-City in what was formerly the American Can Company; a canning factory that operated from 1970 to 1986. As every neighborhood in New Orleans is markedly unique, Mid-City stands apart with its tropical atmosphere and waterfront properties (Bayou St. John winds its way through the area.) On Saturday, March 22, 2008, Ryan and I woke up early and walked from the French Quarter, up Canal Street, to Mid-City. This isn't a scenic walk, and I wouldn't necessarily recommend it, but it gave us a vantage point of the city that we otherwise wouldn't have had.

The entire time I was in the city I was amazed that three years had passed. So many problems remain, some much more obvious than others. It was on our walk to Mid-City that I was confronted with what was most perplexing - the many people that are living under the I-10 overpass. Hundreds of tents, sleeping bags, and mattresses clutter the cement; with so many people, and no running water, it is no wonder that the smell is unbearable. How is this OK? I understand there are many grassroots organizations working with the homeless each day, but where is the local government?

The remainder of the walk was a fairly quiet one. Many buisnesses have moved from the area, abandoning their old buildings. It was strange to see these lonely run-down places that were once a part of my everyday life. And unfortunately, this trend continued as we came upon Mid-City.

Among the many things I came to love while living in New Orleans including soul food, crawfish, zydeco music, gambling, a block party on any day of the week celebrating anything or nothing at all, I came to love Vietnamese food. I could eat Bun or Pho at any time on any day. Though I knew we were trekking up to Mid-City for many reasons, in my heart I had only one destination: Pho Tau Bay.

Not surprisingly, I was absolutely crushed when we found ourselves standing in front of a boarded-up building.

To be continued...