went on a long bike ride yesterday afternoon. it had rained, but was still cloudy, meaning that the city was actually cool. it made me long for fall, and crisp cold air and falling leaves, but this is southern louisiana, and i have a long wait for that.
but the bike ride was nice, and i went bumping along these broken streets, and smiled at neighbors, and forgot for a little bit how scared and depressed i am these days.

i met a man down in the 9th ward whose house had been under 25 feet of water. he was there to mow the neighborhood lawns, keep them looking nice. he pointed to a boat across the street and says, "see that little boat? there was 18 of us in that boat."

it's soon to be the second anniversary of katrina, and all the politicians and celebrities are descending to make speeches, maybe help gut a house, cut a ribbon, give a check. try to ease these social ills that are like a chasm in the city. i have a ticket to go see a certain top level presidential candidate in the upcoming days- we get to ask questions, i am so ecstatic- and whereas i know everyone is going to be asking about federal rebuilding funds, i am going to ask about the long arm of the law, and how it should be applied in theory vs. in reality. because i have been watching the debates and the interviews, and i am floored at how the right questions are never asked, and how everyone gets out of any decent question with a bad joke, and then we're right back to those ever-so-awesome questions about which mistakes had the strongest impact on you, and who is your hero, jesus christ or just plain god?

more and more i am beginning to believe that politicians are the last people we should actually entrust with the government. but i am enough of a realist to understand that only the truly megolomaniacal among us truly want to spearhead the government, or have the ability to see issues so starkly as to be able to even form policy.

i suppose this is home

tomorrow will mark two weeks of living in new orleans. this summer has been one without roots, full of travel in cars and planes and canoes, the exact idea of living here has not sunk in. i am technically familiar with this town- i have visited here countless times, both before the storm and after- i knew this was where i wanted to live even before i had a concrete reason to or even the ability to leave athens. but now, now, now i find myself having to navigate these broken streets in the opressive heat, and am frankly intimidated by how much i do not know, both geographically and culturally. and true to the amount of travelling i have done in the past three months, as well as the sudden realization that i do not have to return to school, i am done, i have degrees and qualifications and no need to feel hemmed in by an obligatory schedule now, i am already plotting and planning escapes.

about a week ago, paul and i went down to vaughan's for drinks with friends. the power had gone out in the 9th again- the heat wave was too much, everyone had their air conditioners to the max, and the whole neighorhood blew the transformers. driving through the streets- the streetlights were out, cars went at a crawl. everyone on street corners, little babies awake, the only lights being candles, kerosene lamps and the sweep of carlights. the bars were still open, and full, beers being the only thing cold, everyone coming together to commiserate on the heat and the city.

i think it was then i first realized that i could become part of the city, not just love it as an observant outsider, but as a citizen, a resident.

that, and the pineapple mint julep ice cream and the cajun cremery.