<p>Holding back the tears has indeed been the thread running through my last two days here in New Orleans. </p>
<p>The most poignant moment for me, personally, was talking to the Engineering School’s Associate Dean. He and I stood talking, each trying to maintain our composure and pretend we were not fighting against the brimming tears. This man will have a place at Tulane for 18 months, no more. In thanking him for being such a valuable advisor for the “displaced” students during the past two days of Orientation, I told him I hoped he had the security of knowing where he would be next, so he could spend these months without that stress hanging over him. He told me he will not even think about his future until the end of this term; he wants to see “his” seniors graduate, he wants to make sure “his” freshmen find their place in another major at Tulane or another School of Engineering. He doesn’t want to be distracted by his own job hunt. He said this year’s graduation will be more bittersweet than ever. This was as far as either he or I could get without losing the composure we were each working so hard to retain.</p>
<p>Next I found myself in the same experience talking with the hotel registration clerk, who is an Accountant at Tulane by day and a front-desk clerk at night. She was upbeat and efficiently helping every guest; but when we chatted about her own situation, her padlocked home in New Orleans… Well, it was another moment for both of us of fighting back the tears.</p>
<p>Seeing the “other New Orleans” meant more of the same. Lakeview, known as the hardest hit of the “middle class” neighborhoods is a ghost town. There is no one there, virtually no homes are being worked on, no cars are on the streets - other than a few still sitting mudcaked from having sat under water. On a Saturday morning, when I (naively and showing my complete lack of local knowledge) expected a bustle of activity carrying out ruined belongings and construction materials, replacing waterlogged sheetrock with new… Nothing and No One. There is, I believe, no electiricty there, no schools, no confidence about the levees, no “flood plain designation” (something I’m not familiar with but a necessary first step to being allowed to/receiving insurance $ for renovation). Out of the 200 or so homes I saw, three or four had been completely renovated (1 or 2 of those For Sale); just standing out like the one flower among the thorns. Still no one living there and no clear indication to the outside observer of why these homes but not any others.</p>
<p>Heading to Lakeview, I passed an area of people living in tents under the Interstate, and a daytime-only tented area of “Free Food/Comitas Gratis,” “Free Medical Clinic.” Lakeview is a little island of American suburbia where time has just stopped. My time in Lakeview was summed up by the sign painted on one small home’s garage door: “Thanks, Katrina” above a child-like drawing of a heart, broken in two.</p>
<p>The Lower Ninth Ward was in an equal state of devastation. It was not in an equal state of desertion. I couldn’t tell how many folks are actually living there, but - unlike in Lakeview - the main arterial street had at least some open stores or restaurants, people walking around. Residential streets consisted of homes in varying states of ruin, yet with cars parked out front which clearly had not been abandoned and are in regular use. There was the occasional sound of hammering and sawing - not much, but some. But nothing like the near normalcy of Uptown, Garden District or the French Quarter. </p>
<p>I did take some photos and mootmom has tutored me on how to post them online. I find, however, that they just don’t seem to capture what I experienced. I will post some, though, if there is an interest.</p>
<p>In much of Uptown/Garden District/French Quarter/shopping areas of Metairie the most common signs are: Now Open, Opening Soon and the ubiquitous NOW HIRING. Driving on other arterial streets, whose neighborhood designations I do not know, it is just abandoned business after abandoned business after abandoned business. Service jobs are begging for workers, but workers can’t come if they have no place to live. Lack of these workers appears to be the main reason that stores and restaurants fail to re-open. But speaking with some of the locals, it is as cangel said, the higher level jobs are not there. I spoke with a gallery worker in the Quarter, who is helping out the owner while she tries in vain to replace her Administrative job - with benefits. Not easy.</p>
<p>President Cowen of Tulane, whose information I have always found reliable, says that the levees will be ready by this coming hurricane season. They will be, he says, built to a “true” Level 3 (they were supposedly Level 3 previously, but had many failures; hadn’t been built as spec-ed, etc.). The money is there and it is underway. He believes that the plan for levee breach (which existed but wasn’t implemented after Katrina) will work and will not be overlooked next time. Level 5 will come later and take several years and need more $$, although - remember - Katrina was Level 3 when she finally hit; and it was the man-made failures just noted which devastated New Orleans. When asked what Tulane families can do for New Orleans as they return to their home states, he suggested: keep New Orleans in the forefront of your federal legislators minds, and come to and send others to New Orleans to spend money. New Orleans is, in fact, still New Orleans and is coming back. Some parts sooner than others; some never to be the same.
I don’t know when I will be back. DH or I will be here in June to pack up DS for school #3. Or, we will be regular visitors if DS decides to change course and remain at Tulane. If not us, I hope others will update on how things progress in this city, beloved of so many - myself included - over the months.</p>