March 16, 2011 issue

Arts & Entertainment

Collecting beads, enjoying ’mas
in Crescent City

Crescent city, city of Sin, The Big Easy - whatever you call it, New Orleans is always colourful and jazzy and no more so than at Mardi Gras On our trip home from Texas, my wife and I decided to stop off in New Orleans. As it turned out, it happened to be the week leading up to Mardi Gras.
The place was buzzing – hotel rooms filled, we were lucky to find one. The survivors of hurricane Katrina in 2005 and those who decided to return – reportedly one third of the

Depiction of a New Orleans jazz funeral. Pix by Vivienne Heydorn

population chose not to - have kept the fires of fun burning in New Orleans.
Besides Katrina, dwellers on the Gulf coast had to face the worst oil spill in U.S. history off the Louisiana coast, last summer Despite all of the above, the nation's biggest revelry went into gear and the city is rocking. Over a million visitors and residents are expected to enjoy the party.
I experienced Mardi Gras before in the early 80's when I was a doctoral student at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge,. I collected my share of beads tossed from floats rumbling through the French Quarter of the city. I experienced historic jazz in a back room at Preservation Hall, some of the instruments played by octogenarians. I had an evening dinner cruise on the steamboat (paddle boat), Natchez, on the Mississippi River, at the port of New Orleans. I took in all the sights and sounds, including the crescent shape of the city from which it derived its pseudonym, and enjoyed them to the hilt.
And that's why I wanted to go back; and also to see some of the aftermath of Katrina. The effects of the devastation are visible in a few areas and some defences have been built as a protection from future hurricanes. Most of all, I wanted to enjoy the fantasy that is Mardi Gras. I wanted to play mas one more time. I wanted to “let the good times roll”. My wife and I bought a couple of Mardi Gras masks and some colourful outfits, when we entered the French Quarter.
Soon we came across a nun with her entire class of young children walking through the streets, distributing beads to passers-by. An Afro-American jazz band was belting out jazzy pieces in Jackson Square. Not far away on another street in the French Quarter, a white “skiffle “ group was laying down exciting rhythms. You could hear the blues being played in a street corner joint nearby and Cajun music in shops and stores. New Orleans overflows with music.
In Jackson Square, on the grounds of the historic St. Louis Cathedral, one man was lying in deep “sleep” under a tree, his knapsack as his pillow. Inside the beautiful cathedral, worshippers and visitors enjoyed moments of sanity and tranquillity. The cathedral, located as it is in the centre of all this revelry and Bacchanalian abandon is quite a paradox. Horse-drawn buggies are waiting to take visitors for a tour of the city. Police presence is evident\ in vehicles, on foot, and on stand-up motorized “scooters” with handlebars.
During the Mardi Gras parades, Krewes on floats (trucks), throw beads into the crowds. The Krewe of Ancient Druids went past on Wednesday. There is fierce competition between Krewes like Rex, Zulu, and the Intergalactic Krewe of Chewbacchus, not to mention the Red Beans and Rice Krewe (a Lousiana favourite dish).
Flesh meets fantasy in the streets in walking groups that parade on foot, some featuring the carnival's most creative costumes. When it comes to dressing up and costumes, I have to be there! The balconies of the buildings in the French Quarter are gaily decorated. You can rent a gallery which gives you a bird's eye view of the parades, day after day and night after night, and all the insanity below. Some folks throw beads from the galleries or put on their own shows, in some cases “showing it all”. All of this action comes to a head on the final day of Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) – Shrove Tuesday, in preparation for Ash Wednesday and Lent the next day.
New Orleans has more to offer than Mardi Gras. It is the spiritual home of playwright Tennessee Williams (author of A Streetcar Named Desire), home of traditional jazz and greats like Louis Armstrong and Al Hirt, rock stars like Fats Domino, and other iconic figures. I enjoyed spicy dishes like seafood gumbo and boudin sausage. I bypassed drinks like the “hurrricane” and the fleshy strip joints on Bourbon Street although I did go into a voodoo shop..
The courtyards, the music, the Cajun and Creole pulsations, and the French, Spanish and African influences surround you. There is Marie Laveau, and voodoo vibrations, and fine restaurants like Antoine's, established in 1840, cafes, bistros, art galleries, museums and more.
You can visit the Garden District for more food, fun, frolic and shopping. Walking tours or horse-drawn buggy tours take you through the French Quarter, the Garden District and a Voodoo tour. There are dance clubs, you can ride a streetcar on the St. Charles line, or get your portrait painted by a street artist in Jackson Square ( as I did a long time ago).
You can cross Pontchartrain Causeway, the world's largest over water bridge, and visit the surrounding Cajun and Plantation country. But it's the personal testimonies of New Orleanians (New Orleans' residents) that stand out most in my memory. Like the young sales clerk in a gift shop who said that he used to live in the St. Bernard's Parish of the city when hurricane Katrina hit in 2005.
He and his family were evacuated two days before the storm and stayed with relatives in Texas. He said that he was moved around to seven high schools in Texas and has come back to live in New Orleans; but not in his original home which had to be abandoned because it was covered with 26 feet of water! In the French Quarter, there was reportedly three feet of water.
Many residents find the past too traumatic to talk about and want to get on with the rebuilding of their city. Perhaps New Orleans is paying for its “sins” as “sin city”; I don't know. What I do know is that the city has a magnetic force for folks like me. I wanted to “play mas” one more time, have fun, live a fantasy, before my legs stop working and I or the city disappears forever.
If you want to join a Krewe for Mardi Gras, there are many to choose from; be it Dionysus, Cleopatra, Babylon, Olympia, Orpheus, Zeus, Napoleon, Hermes, or Bacchus. When your body can take it no more, after days and nights of revelry, lie down and prepare yourself for a jazz funeral. You will be the first to hear the trumpets from “the other side” as a New Orleans jazz band plays “When the Saints go Marching in”, just for you. If the creeks don't rise and the sun still shines - and I make it back to Canada - I'll be talking to you.

 

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