Yesterday I arrived in New Orleans, or to be exact, Arabi, LA. What a two days it's been. As I drove through Alabama and then into Mississippi I found myself feeling incredibly nervous, but as the great Miley Cyrus puts it, "So I put my hands up, they're playing my song/ The butterflies fly away." I'm so glad I got to quote Miley, I can check that off my bucket list now.
Pulling up to my volunteer camp/my home for the next 3 weeks I was feeling excited. As fun as driving as been, my body was ready to take a break from sitting for 8 hours a day. Rob and Jaime greeted me at Camp Hope, they are locals who help the director of the facility. Camp Hope is an old school that was flooded and shut down, due to Katrina. It was cleaned up and transformed into volunteer housing shortly after the hurricane. As one can imagine, it's a HUGE facility, the largest volunteer housing facility in the US. As Rob was showing me around it seemed awfully quiet for a building that can house over 400 people. I casually asked him how many people were staying here at the moment. "You," was his answer. WAIT, WHAT?!... My stomach dropped when I heard this. I know I need to work on being alone, but living in a middle school by myself was not something I had envisioned when planning this trip. During my drive I was picturing an evening hanging out with all the new friends I planned on making at Camp Hope, not sitting alone in a cavernous bunk room. I was literally on the verge of tears as I got back into my car to grab something to eat.
It's a good thing I didn't do what I immediately wanted to do, which was find a hotel room in the city for last night until I could figure out where else I could stay. Instead, I got it together, grew up and drove myself back to Camp Hope. I spent the rest of the evening hanging with Rob, listening to his stories about his life, stories that, as he puts it, "would make a great movie." Like how he drove 100 mph on the shoulder of Interstate 10 to get out of New Orleans 12 hours before Katrina hit, and how he used to be the best underground fighter in NO. Now I don't know how many of these stories were true, but I appreciated hearing about the area and the storm from a local person who was and still is deeply affected by Katrina.
My feelings today when I woke up and drove around the area a bit more, hitting up the French Market and going on a swamp tour (!) were completely opposite from how I felt less than 24 hours ago. Camp Hope is in St. Bernard Parish, right on the line with the Lower Ninth Ward. I'm glad I'm staying in the area where I will be doing the volunteering, I want to meet my neighbors and the locals, not other tourists and boozebags from out of town here for bachelor/bachelorette parties. I won't be volunteering and then returning to higher ground (literally and figuratively.) I love where I'm staying, I love the southern way of life around here and I'm beginning to love this city. I'm enjoying my "single" room filled with 400 beds and (this probably freaks them out) I'm calling Rob and Jaime my new family.
As I returned home today from gator hunting I noticed the houses on CH's street still had the spray painted numbers from the searches after Katrina. There is still so much work to be done around here. I might never leave.
This is the soundtrack to my life:
Thanks to: Ryan W., Leah S., Miss Kelly C., Amy W., Sarah P.
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