Day Three- Becca edition

Our morning started as it should have: Christine waking up absurdly early, waking us up a 5:50, and us all laying in bed for another 10 minutes. By 6:30 we'd all pulled on clothing, chased food down with caffeine, and had piled into the vans. At that point, our fearless yet terrifying work supervisor, Rock, rolled onto the scene to tell us we might not be working today because of the thunderstorm coming. Now, there are many things that Louisiana knows how to do well. For example, apply icing sugar liberally. In addition, make fantastic music. But also, it sure knows how to rain. And today, it rained. And then it sprinkled. And then it RAINED. While we waited for the final word for him, people took to opportunity for some down time. Emma journaled, Tia, and Joel played games. Jim did some Jim things. Christine, Brad, and Kirsten went to Starbucks. And I, well, I went cocooned myself in a blanked and snuggled down for some more sleep. Yeah, it was a great morning. At nine o'clock Rock confirmed that we would not be able to work today. Disappointed but our spirits undampenable (even by the rain) we piled back into the cars and rolled out to take Louisiana by storm (pun very much indented).

The evening before we had the opportunity to view photographs from when Katrina first hit. It's remarkable really, but I feel like no one really has a grasp on the all consuming destruction that was the hurricane. A deeply unfortunate combination of natural tragedy and human mistakes, Katrina is tragic in ways that I still do not fully grasp. I've seen the photos. I've heard the stories. I've seen the waterline on the sides of houses broken down but still standing but still I feel I don't fully grasp what happened in this place. Louisiana is fun. And spirited. And sweet; sweeter than the tea they make. The people are kind and quick to introduce themselves and recommend a good restaurant. But all of that really doesn't fit with the people's surroundings. Today, we drove through the Lower Ninth. This is where the real punch of Katrina was felt, as it so often is in these situations: by the poor. As we drove down the lower ninth, we saw habitat house followed by empty lot that someone still mowes followed by a house with a caved in roof and boarded up windows. Six years later, houses hit by the hurricane are still just sitting there. Someone told me today that FEMA, the organization that provides aid during emergencies, pulled out a year after the hurricane hit because they thought their job was done. Driving through the Lower Ninth today, I can't help but question that decision. I couldn't help but think that surviving a stage 5 hurricane, the highest rating, should be enough. But people here have been living on some level of survival for 7 years. And all this in the most well off country in the world. I think that made all of us itch for our hammers and the heat of the work site.

The Lower Ninth is also where Brad Pitt and Michael Holmes funded homes to be build. We cruised past them, and they only added to the feeling that something was wrong with the setting. These houses were designed by famous architects as a means for them to help out. So amongst worn out homes and leveled lots, there are pastel space houses. Nothing seems quite right. Add to that picturing the very road you drove on as underwater, and the feeling was quite disconcerting. Perhaps the most harrowing image was a "Children at play" sign. I'm sure many of you are familiar with this sign, seen often around Ottawa to warn drivers to be careful. Hanging askew in the Lower Ninth, it seems to say so much more.

The rest of the day was filled with a visit to a plantation and garden. We learnt that it was considered unbecoming for women to cross into a certain room without the men's position and that they had to be sure to keep their thirteen petticoats under their hemline. Emma and I decided we would probably not do well in those times. But, at least we could live on the fringes of society together.

As some of you may know, Brad has a certain affection for driving on top of the levies beside the Mississippi. Today, in Jim's car, when we looked back and couldn't see the other van, we knew Brad was fulfilling his craving. (note: I was just informed that they were chasing us down up there. They had trouble catching up to us because "for once Jim decided to drive close to the speed limit and was just tearing up the road").

This evening, we played a game by the name of Animal. Those of you who've travelled with Emmanuel in the last few years should be quite familiar with this game. Amongst the shenanigans and monkey howls, I was reminded that among friends, fun can always be had. When moments are found in a busy day to spend time with other people, one can also find solidarity. So when I ask myself how Louisiana is still suffering after all this time, I also know they are doing far better than anyone could expect. When I ask myself how they do it I know it has something to do with that solidarity found in others (although I'm sure I don't fully understand the depth of that).

There are things to be icing sugared, there is music to be made, and there are storms to ride out. And that's just what New Orleans knows how to do.

I'd apologize for the length of this post, but Christine says its okay. And if Christine says its okay, then it must be.