Ms. Frederica and I both missed the trolley today. I wasn't willing to run for it, and she's never had much luck with that- they leave her anyway, and while she's glad to have them back (it was bad after the storm) they're just one of the many things in the city that could use an improvement. The street lights by her house are out as well. And don't tell her to vote for people who will change that, because they're all corrupt and she refuses to waste her effort on a government that won't care anyway. Her husband is always shocked when she says things like that, but it's true.
She appreciated the National Guard after the storm though. She told me about about the time she missed curfew and made a sandwich with the National Guard supplies, and it was very sanitary and some of the best ham she'd ever tasted. Her husband couldn't believe she did that, but it's true.
She also told me about visiting her family for the month she was evacuated after Katrina. She and her husband left the day before their anniversary, and she stayed in the country, and played with her relatives' children, and missed home intensely. She never ate any more than the kids did, and helped them do all their chores even getting eggs from the chickens. She wouldn't milk cows though- she's a city girl and they "don't have no cows in the city." Her husband told her to rest herself, and couldn't believe she could ride bikes with the young'ns all day, but she did, it's true.
I also learned about her food preferences, and her philosophy in relation to her sugar diabetes along with her husband's reaction to it all. Seems like he spends a lot of time in disbelief.
Ms. Frederica talked me from Canal to Constantinople on the St. Charles street car route (no small feat I must say) and would have kept going had it not been her stop. I came home overwhelmed and overloaded, but amazed at her conversational skills, and somehow feeling privileged to have spoken with her (though granted, my speech was mostly just mmhmm and yes ma'am).
But more than that, what amazed me is that Ms. Frederica is not at all unusual. She is one of many incredibly friendly souls in an incredibly friendly city. New Orleanians seem ready to share their life stories with you at a moment's notice, and all I've ever had to do was smile sincerely and nod at the right times.
I've never felt unwelcome here, even when our rainbow coalition of DukeEngagers took a trip to a part of Washington Avenue where such diversity is uncommon. As we ate our first po' boys on the sidewalk next to a dumpster, we got a few incredulous looks (especially since 11 of us piled out of the mini van) but only one question: were we college students? Our affirmatives were enough explanation for them, and from then on, I've felt welcome, even wanted here.
So, I'm glad I hid my exhaustion and heard Ms. Frederica's. I suppose the least I can do when I've been riding the welcome wagon is listen to one of the conductor's (extensive) stories.
Even still, I need a nap.
She appreciated the National Guard after the storm though. She told me about about the time she missed curfew and made a sandwich with the National Guard supplies, and it was very sanitary and some of the best ham she'd ever tasted. Her husband couldn't believe she did that, but it's true.
She also told me about visiting her family for the month she was evacuated after Katrina. She and her husband left the day before their anniversary, and she stayed in the country, and played with her relatives' children, and missed home intensely. She never ate any more than the kids did, and helped them do all their chores even getting eggs from the chickens. She wouldn't milk cows though- she's a city girl and they "don't have no cows in the city." Her husband told her to rest herself, and couldn't believe she could ride bikes with the young'ns all day, but she did, it's true.
I also learned about her food preferences, and her philosophy in relation to her sugar diabetes along with her husband's reaction to it all. Seems like he spends a lot of time in disbelief.
Ms. Frederica talked me from Canal to Constantinople on the St. Charles street car route (no small feat I must say) and would have kept going had it not been her stop. I came home overwhelmed and overloaded, but amazed at her conversational skills, and somehow feeling privileged to have spoken with her (though granted, my speech was mostly just mmhmm and yes ma'am).
But more than that, what amazed me is that Ms. Frederica is not at all unusual. She is one of many incredibly friendly souls in an incredibly friendly city. New Orleanians seem ready to share their life stories with you at a moment's notice, and all I've ever had to do was smile sincerely and nod at the right times.
I've never felt unwelcome here, even when our rainbow coalition of DukeEngagers took a trip to a part of Washington Avenue where such diversity is uncommon. As we ate our first po' boys on the sidewalk next to a dumpster, we got a few incredulous looks (especially since 11 of us piled out of the mini van) but only one question: were we college students? Our affirmatives were enough explanation for them, and from then on, I've felt welcome, even wanted here.
So, I'm glad I hid my exhaustion and heard Ms. Frederica's. I suppose the least I can do when I've been riding the welcome wagon is listen to one of the conductor's (extensive) stories.
Even still, I need a nap.
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