Cold Spaghetti

Like most New Orleanians, we spend some time each day rationalizing and justifying our reasons for living here. Particularly in the case of Paul and I, where we are essentially mobile: Paul as a full-time telecommuter who can work anywhere and me working on a dissertation. If we were “somewhere else,” we reason, we could save more money. We could send our kids to public schools without the luck of a lottery system. We could have a bigger house where each kid has their own bedroom; maybe upgrade to the minivan. We could have a driveway and a garage, with motorcycles parked inside. We could go outside after 11pm without considering the possibility of random violence or worries of break-ins. These are all really nice things. To some people, they may seem like essentials. Certainly, this is the only place we’ve ever lived that didn’t have these (barring our stints in Central and South America).

The stuff above certainly sounds like the American Dream — the two car family life that we were raised to work towards. So why choose a different life, a harder one, in a city deeply immersed in some of the nation’s biggest problems? To answer this question, we make lists. We all seem to have these “lists,” a running tally of why we live here; the qualities that exist here and nowhere else that keep us from leaving. The reasons why life here is different, unique and special. I am still coming up from my most recent Katrina-time-of-the-month and feeling tired, so I have been doing a lot of “listing.” To that end, maybe as an attempt to boost my spirits, I’m sharing my current list, in no particular order. Should anyone else reading this have lists they’d like to share, I would be delighted to read them.

1. The walkability. My address has a walkability score of 88/100. The quality of life gained from walking the streets — not as a choice but as the way things are done because that’s the way they were designed and intended — is almost immeasurable to me. (HT: BC4!)
2. Abeona House. No where else can I imagine a more inspirational center, full of love and life, integrating family, community, and learning in ways that surprise me everyday. With fellow parents Denice and Dana, we wrote an article for the August issue of The Trumpet that discusses the integration of the school within the Oak Street community and how it symbolizes the best of the character of New Orleans neighborhoods and is driven by the school’s philosophy towards learning. I’ll link it when it’s available online, but I understand it is out if you want to pick up a hard copy.
3. Music. Everywhere. Paul and I go out Very Very Rarely, yet we hear live music — Really Good! Live Music — several times a week. Bands play at Whole Foods almost every weekend. Charlie Farmer at Oak Street Cafe (a weekly tradition, where we bring our computers and use their wireless to work over breakfast). Random artists on Magazine (on one surprising afternoon, it was Theresa Andersson just hanging out with a guitar).
4. Our House. We love this old house. The incredible curb appeal that stops you in the sidewalk to gaze up at the tall porch details. The floors that allow bits of light to pass up from under the house. The fact that nothing is square (Kate can close the bathroom door without worry — the gap between the frame and door is large enough for her fingers). I love that when we give our address to a local, they rattle off nearby house numbers where they or other family had once lived. The sense that this place is full of a history that is so beyond us feels so warm and right. It makes me feel that I am a part of a living history, laying witness to time as it passes.
5. The People. Someone told me that in New Orleans, you treat everyone like family and everything as if you were in your Grandma’s parlor. In other words, you are warm to others and respectful of the city. By and large, these sayings have showed themselves to be true.
6. How can food not be on this list? I cannot recall a bad meal, ever, since moving here. I think that my kids are so lucky to have Louisiana and New Orleans in their upbringing, where they can sing Johnette Downing’s songs about Gumbo, Red Beans, Jambalaya, Catfish, and Crawfish — and know that they are those lucky children she’s singing about.
7. The beautiful foliage. The green, constant green, with blooming flowers year round. I feel a little more alive when surrounded by green leaves and colorful plumes.
8. The weather. Hot and humid? Bring it! I can’t imagine not being in New Orleans in the summertime. The air hanging with the wet smell of heavy leaves, the sweet scents mixed with the damp mold of mulch composting. It reminds me of abroad… of India with its jasmine and hibiscus, of Honduras with its heavy summer rain.
9. The architecture. How people look at a building not as what it IS, but at what it has been and what it could be. Who can measure the value in a piece of carved wood that is 100 years old? There is value there, there is a story. This is one of the only places I know where people will stop to listen for it.
10. The celebration of life. Carnival, countless music celebrations, Second Lines… and so much more. The sense that life is short, that our time is limited and that if we should make it to the table once more, we should be thankful for it — and celebrate it with good food, music, and dancing. Life itself is a reason to celebrate. So when I go outside each day, I go not looking for a cultural experience… I am part of the cultural experience.

For those reasons (and so many more), for now, we choose to live here.