Cut Loose

Sticker Shock. Honestly, that's the best way to describe my reaction to New Orleans. Leaving good ol' midwestern suburbia, where my sense of security was never challenged, yet my senses where never challenged, and coming to The “BIG” Easy, home of the notoriously raucous Mardi Gras, was a huge leap in culture and an entirely new experience. In this state I arrived, with images of Bourbon Street and Katrina's destruction in my mind. Every other person I talked to, when I mentioned my coming to New Orleans, warned me that I would be in great danger; I must learn self defense NOW, I must never go anywhere alone, even during the day, and don't forget to get a switchblade and pepperspray NOW. I admit I was very nervous coming to this city, not any old city, but a city recently receiving blows economically, psychologically, and physically, where crime is high, yet over-the-top spirit lives on. Running through my mind was a hyped image of New Orleans as a boozed crime fest, devastated to the point where a return to normalcy was impossible. Then I came to Bywater, my temporary home-sweet-home. At first glance, the place was not one to quiet the nerves. The first few days were rough, as I didn’t yet feel comfortable in the neighborhood, and the locals seems almost too friendly or too nosy. Blonde hair, blue eyes attracts a lot of attention. But then I started to discover the area, cruising on my bike and each day noticing unique shops, bars, people, and particularly restaurants. On the outside these places look miserable, perhaps to attest to the use and popularity over the years, or perhaps just to fit in, blending into the local scene. Once entering these places, you feel as if you’ve crossed a threshold into another more vibrant and festive world. You grasp a sense of community, and especially of people and the human touch. It is not just a place to grab a cup of java and run (starbucks, anyone?) but to meet, socialize, and belong. The people aren't arrogant; they want to know you, help you, introduce you to their hometown. In my first days here I participated in a drunken mardi gras parade that simply meandered from bar to bar, celebrating the city and life. Gathering together with people you’ve never met, simply to have a good time and celebrate unique traditions, is an instinct engrained in this city. Then I began to understand what my life had been missing: culture and unified spirit. In my suburban bubble, I would “go out” to the mall, grab some food at a chain restaurant, and then catch a movie. To me, this was all very mundane and not extraordinary or stimulating. In New Orleans I came upon a new philosophy that life is celebrated, and to truly live you must open yourself up to new experiences, try that strange, decrepit looking restaurant down the stree; it might surprise you. Thus far, I have learned to open myself up in order to get a little culture, and by venturing into experiences that pushed my security level I actually feel more secure. My favorite discovery in New Orleans is the local philosophy that you can’t let disaster, whether catastrophic and widespread, or personal, get you down, because there is much more to life, so many moments to experience; if you just care enough to get out and find your own special place, you will find home.