Home and Gustav reading
Sep. 7th, 2008 02:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ezekielsdaughterWell, now the freezer and fridge have been completely scrubbed. I can start making a restocking grocery list. Not too much because another storm is out there.
Home
The city is becoming repopulated. It gives me a chance to rethink why New Orleans is home. I grew up in Shreveport and many of the people-to-people relationships still feel easier up there. I didn’t grow up with the cursing and casual vulgarity of New Orleans. But I also grew up in a city where my mother didn’t give her first name to whites because she didn’t want them calling her by her first name. And they would. I still remember calling the bank on her behalf and having them tell me that they had talked to Annie and had worked everything out. This from someone who sounded half her age. Shreveport has changed a lot; but since I was not there to experience the change, I don’t trust it. It’s a pity because my distant-behavior may offend some good people. That’s one of the hidden charges of racism.
Why is New Orleans “home” now? It’s always described as a more Caribbean and more African city. It’s also called a more European city. All probably true. It’s probably more comfortable for some to describe it as a European city than an African city. I can see friends shifting in their seats when I describe New Orleans traditions as African traditions. None of them would describe Africa as bad, but somehow they don’t want it said that they are living their life in an African manner. Ok—we’ll call it a southern Europe or Mediterranean manner. So what is a Mediterranean manner?
When I moved to this neighborhood, it was predominately white. All family activities were celebrated in the back yard…around a patio, around a pool, around a BBQ pit. During most days, you could not tell if anyone was home. The front door was an empty face that told you nothing. When the neighborhood changed, family activities suddenly began to be celebrated in the front yard. In the public square, let’s say. I still recall calling my sister in shock to say that someone was boiling crawfish on Easter in the front yard. Firstly, my surprise was the association of crawfish with Easter—which even my white co-workers informed me was “normal”. And then there was the front yard business—which did surprise my co-workers. Kids now play in the front yard or in the street. The village that the axiom talked about has surfaced. And that is New Orleans culture to a large extent. People live in the public square, not behind closed doors. An Israeli told me once that he felt more at home in New Orleans than any other city that he had visited, because Israel was the same way. Home is where you sleep, but not where you live. It was critical for restaurants to open after the storm not only because people had no food in the fridge, but also because New Orleanians eat out a lot.
Because I grew up elsewhere, I am somewhere in-between. I eat out a lot. I’m single and cooking for one is a bore. It’s interesting to sit in an outside restaurant and watch the world go by. It makes me feel a part of New Orleans when the waiter sits down and tells me his life story. (Nevertheless, it makes me anxious at times to see how people trust me with their life.) I have a patio in back that I hardly ever use, but I don’t have a swing out front like some do. You can’t tell whether I’m home. I enjoy the changes, but seeing a crawfish boil in the front yard still feels weird.
On another note: Yesterday, I complained about people who were irritable about power loss after they returned. This morning on NPR, I heard one man say that even with the power loss, he wanted to return as soon as possible. After a week, he said, you would not only have a tree on your house; there would be squirrels living in the tree. I laughed and acknowledged his words. Great image. I only ask that you don’t call up the radio station and complain that you don’t have power.
Books read over the storm
I got a lot of reading done. The Republican convention was going on and I was not going to watch that. (Fair play—I only watched Obama’s speech during the Democratic convention.) The convention is for the party faithful and the candidate often ignores the platform anyway.
I knocked out
“The Secret History of Moscow” by Ekaterina Sedia. A nice way to see Russian folklore pulled into the modern state. I am always interested in seeing the way other cultures handle folklore , fantasy, and science fiction. A friend and I read as much Andrew Lang as we could find during our childhood. (I just went online and discovered that the Yellow Fairy book and the Blue fairy book are available for download.) Later, of course, I read all of the Terri Windling /Ellen Datlow’s books that did the same for the fairy stories that I grew up with. Watching “Night Watch” proved to me that I didn’t know the mythical underpinning of the story. I still want to understand all of the images in that movie—which are no doubt based on stories that Russians learn in their childhood. Just as an adult here would know what a glass slipper meant without any explanation.
“Little Brother” by Cory Doctorow. A fun read while the convention was on. I finished it in a day. I wish that I could find someone else around here to read it so that I could have a real discussion about it.
“Inside Straight” by George R.R. Martin and the other Wild Card bunch. Yes, I enjoyed it. It’s popcorn but good popcorn. It has some odd turns but it is fun. It leaves room for further adventures. Readers of Martin’s other series are probably having apoplexy that he stopped to write this. Since I’m not reading that series, I was glad to have this.
I also read loads of National Geographic that I had started and not finished. I read the current Tikkun. And a couple of UTNE magazines. I am bad about reading a few articles and leaving other articles for “later”.
Home
The city is becoming repopulated. It gives me a chance to rethink why New Orleans is home. I grew up in Shreveport and many of the people-to-people relationships still feel easier up there. I didn’t grow up with the cursing and casual vulgarity of New Orleans. But I also grew up in a city where my mother didn’t give her first name to whites because she didn’t want them calling her by her first name. And they would. I still remember calling the bank on her behalf and having them tell me that they had talked to Annie and had worked everything out. This from someone who sounded half her age. Shreveport has changed a lot; but since I was not there to experience the change, I don’t trust it. It’s a pity because my distant-behavior may offend some good people. That’s one of the hidden charges of racism.
Why is New Orleans “home” now? It’s always described as a more Caribbean and more African city. It’s also called a more European city. All probably true. It’s probably more comfortable for some to describe it as a European city than an African city. I can see friends shifting in their seats when I describe New Orleans traditions as African traditions. None of them would describe Africa as bad, but somehow they don’t want it said that they are living their life in an African manner. Ok—we’ll call it a southern Europe or Mediterranean manner. So what is a Mediterranean manner?
When I moved to this neighborhood, it was predominately white. All family activities were celebrated in the back yard…around a patio, around a pool, around a BBQ pit. During most days, you could not tell if anyone was home. The front door was an empty face that told you nothing. When the neighborhood changed, family activities suddenly began to be celebrated in the front yard. In the public square, let’s say. I still recall calling my sister in shock to say that someone was boiling crawfish on Easter in the front yard. Firstly, my surprise was the association of crawfish with Easter—which even my white co-workers informed me was “normal”. And then there was the front yard business—which did surprise my co-workers. Kids now play in the front yard or in the street. The village that the axiom talked about has surfaced. And that is New Orleans culture to a large extent. People live in the public square, not behind closed doors. An Israeli told me once that he felt more at home in New Orleans than any other city that he had visited, because Israel was the same way. Home is where you sleep, but not where you live. It was critical for restaurants to open after the storm not only because people had no food in the fridge, but also because New Orleanians eat out a lot.
Because I grew up elsewhere, I am somewhere in-between. I eat out a lot. I’m single and cooking for one is a bore. It’s interesting to sit in an outside restaurant and watch the world go by. It makes me feel a part of New Orleans when the waiter sits down and tells me his life story. (Nevertheless, it makes me anxious at times to see how people trust me with their life.) I have a patio in back that I hardly ever use, but I don’t have a swing out front like some do. You can’t tell whether I’m home. I enjoy the changes, but seeing a crawfish boil in the front yard still feels weird.
On another note: Yesterday, I complained about people who were irritable about power loss after they returned. This morning on NPR, I heard one man say that even with the power loss, he wanted to return as soon as possible. After a week, he said, you would not only have a tree on your house; there would be squirrels living in the tree. I laughed and acknowledged his words. Great image. I only ask that you don’t call up the radio station and complain that you don’t have power.
Books read over the storm
I got a lot of reading done. The Republican convention was going on and I was not going to watch that. (Fair play—I only watched Obama’s speech during the Democratic convention.) The convention is for the party faithful and the candidate often ignores the platform anyway.
I knocked out
“The Secret History of Moscow” by Ekaterina Sedia. A nice way to see Russian folklore pulled into the modern state. I am always interested in seeing the way other cultures handle folklore , fantasy, and science fiction. A friend and I read as much Andrew Lang as we could find during our childhood. (I just went online and discovered that the Yellow Fairy book and the Blue fairy book are available for download.) Later, of course, I read all of the Terri Windling /Ellen Datlow’s books that did the same for the fairy stories that I grew up with. Watching “Night Watch” proved to me that I didn’t know the mythical underpinning of the story. I still want to understand all of the images in that movie—which are no doubt based on stories that Russians learn in their childhood. Just as an adult here would know what a glass slipper meant without any explanation.
“Little Brother” by Cory Doctorow. A fun read while the convention was on. I finished it in a day. I wish that I could find someone else around here to read it so that I could have a real discussion about it.
“Inside Straight” by George R.R. Martin and the other Wild Card bunch. Yes, I enjoyed it. It’s popcorn but good popcorn. It has some odd turns but it is fun. It leaves room for further adventures. Readers of Martin’s other series are probably having apoplexy that he stopped to write this. Since I’m not reading that series, I was glad to have this.
I also read loads of National Geographic that I had started and not finished. I read the current Tikkun. And a couple of UTNE magazines. I am bad about reading a few articles and leaving other articles for “later”.
