New Orleans- A City of Unabashed Contrasts

Early on the morning of Saturday, February 7th New Orleans greeted me with gentle breezes and 74 degrees.

We loved the sights, sounds, smells and allure of this highly contradictory city. Every meal was fabulous. Every corner was a surprise. We walked until we had blisters, jumped on the trolleys, bought band aids, and then walked more.

Our hotel was a four block walk from the French Quarter, and a short streetcar ride from the Garden District. Inside the hotel we were pampered with lavish and beautiful surroundings. On the sidewalk outside we literally leaped out of the way of rats. For you see, New Orleans is a city of unabashed contrasts.

It surprised and captivated us at every turn. This is a town where contradictions and dichotomies co-exist without complicating or conflicting with each other.

• Old and new,
• rich and poor,
• seedy and grand,
• excellence and decrepitude,
• classic and trendy,
• puritanical and decadent,
• grace and vulgarity,
• generosity and greed,
• gay and straight,
• liberal and conservative....
• all seemingly co-existing without constraining, restraining or denying one another.

People in Chanel, Versace and gems laughed and rubbed shoulders on the same corner with those wearing ragged jeans, plastic beads and soot-stain tattoos.

Everyone drank the best of brews from plastic cups, and open containers were everywhere. BUT! If the police saw a glass bottle, a hefty fine of several hundred dollars was immediately extracted.

We never knew what our senses would experience next, but we were sure to enjoy the sounds of jazz coming from everywhere. Music was the one common bond in this city of contrasts. We listened to a skinny white boy playing a washboard on his chest - accompanied by a middle aged black man pounding out his soul on an amazingly rowdy accordion. He reminded me of Ray Charles. (Previously, I had not heard an accordion produce anything but polka music, but THIS sound was NOT anything like Paul Yankovic.) Street musicians were fantastic and everywhere; and we made sure to tip each and every one of them heartily. It was our pleasure to do so.

Most of the area surrounding New Orleans is built on the silt that deposited over millenia from the Mississippi - and most of the surrounding area is quasi-protected from the Mississippi by an earthen levy. The topography is that of a bowl, and most of the city that was developed in the past hundred years is below sea level. We floated on the Mississippi River and looked down at the rooftops of the houses in the bowl below. The older parts of the city (the French Quarter, Garden District and Downtown) are all on higher ground. (We modern Americans are quite vain in our belief that the world should cowtow to us.)

It has been more than three years since Hurricane Katrina, and very little of the surrounding area has been rebuilt, and is not likely to be. No one wants to insure an area that is below sea level. In most residential blocks, for each house restored, more than 100 lie unattended and rotting.

In spite of the housing shortage, the gangs have returned to New Orleans after finding the Texas laws to be far swifter and harsher than they were used to. TV news, police, hotels, and street vendors all warn visitors to not venture beyond a certain perimeter of streets. "Even the police do not enter those areas, and they do not bother to investigate anyone who goes missing in those areas." We were close enough to the "forbidden zone" that four people were shot on Sunday night on the street near our hotel. Needless to say, we dutifully obeyed and stayed within the French Quarter and Garden District.

From the ground looking up at our room on the top, 14th floor of the InterContinental Hotel. On a patio atop the fourth floor is a huge weather vane sculpture. From here it just looks like a jumble of metal.

In the lobby of the hotel - Mardi Gras colors are purple (power), gold (wealth) and green (faith). Dad looks like he's about to get goosed.

As a conference planning the InterContinental pampered us and gave us a lovely Governor

Suite, but it was way more than we needed.

The morning view from our bed.

Dad going through the dining room and outside to enjoy the fresh air and mild breeze.

From our balcony overlooking the enormous weather vane sculpture - ten stories high.

The base of the weather vane sculpture was a mosaic lily pond reflected in a mirrored base. The laughter from these children was contagious. Their laughter was such a simple thing, but it was a highlight of our visit.

Overlooking the city to the south.

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Dad aboard the Natchez - the last steamboat to sail the Mississippi. We are UP river from New Orleans at this point.


The earthen levy holds back the Mississippi - most of the time.

From the Mississippi we looked DOWN onto the rooftops of the homes that are in the bowl outlying New Orleans.

An old plantation home - still owned by the same family today. This house was once far, far from New Orleans.

The Gray Egret is the State bird, once endangered, and now making a comeback.


Ocean-going vessels transport and harbor on the Mississippi.

That's Domino Sugar unloading enormous cranes of sugar. One scoop fills several dump trucks.

The city's artisans decorate trolley cars with their depictions of New Orleans, and their artwork is greatly enjoyed by all. (Much like guitars in Cleveland or cows in Chicago/Naperville.)



The decrepit resides beside the sublime everywhere in New Orleans. The upscale Garden District is no exception.


In Antibellum New Orleans and the surrounding area, wealth was measured by how LITTLE one accomplished. It was considered "rive guach" to be industrious, and competition in self indulgence was the epitome of prestige.

In the city, land was too valuable to waste it on building slave quarters. They slept wherever they could lay their heads. A kitchen floor or an attic corner were coveted in the winter, but miserable in the summer.

Artisans were usually immigrants, but sometimes slaves.

Wide porches kept out the rain while letting in the cool breezes.

Weatherworn shutters are used daily to keep out the brutal sun as well as the occassional hurricane winds and rain.

Shutters are everywhere. Quaint as well as functional.

Customarily, businesses and shops are downstairs, and living quarters are upstairs.

The cemeteries are above ground - and according to our guide, they are MOVED to make room for new buildings and townhouses. Yikes, with all the voodoo going on, I wonder who wants to live atop a site that was once a cemetery.

This cemetery was very old, and like all of New Orleans, was a contrast unto itself.

Families are buried in the same tomb. After five years, the casket is pulled out and burned. The bones inside are put in a sack and pushed to the back of the mausoleum. The next casket is pushed in. Undertakers make sure caskets are not re-used.

Generation after generation share the same mausoleum.

You can see why it would be so important in the south to have your family name continued. If you were the last of your line, who would tend your mausoleum?

In New Orleans, cemeteries are referred to as "Cities of the Dead,"

and Voodoo and Christianity share the same highway.

Literally buried generation upon generation.

Because of a high infant mortality rate, and the softness of their bones, babies were often buried one upon the other in the ground. They died too close to one another to take up coffin space in the mausoleums.

Click on the photo above and read the sign. It epitomizes New Orleans. "Damn Near 24 hours"

We ate at DEANIE'S Seafood!!!!

And, they gave me their wine list, and Tim is stocking our shelves.

Come on over, and make your selection!!

We'll turn on the jazz, and let the good times roll....