New Orleans is tired. Not just physically, but with everything. Before you accuse me of stating the obvious, I emphasize that it’s not mere post-traumatic stress that weighs New Orleanians down, but the contagious nature of that fatigue. A lot of workers here, whether white- or blue-collar, do not merely want to go home at the end of a long Tuesday, they want to resign. Such malaise spreads, washes away and is reabsorbed over and over again.
Why? Our entire region has been affected by the storm and the flood – ten months later, more than half of us have not returned, our economy dwindles, crime is on the rise again, politics is back to frustrating usual and desolation is the ruling truth in a majority of our neighborhoods. If one thread fully breaks, the entire tapestry of our city will unravel.
Yesterday, I received an email from Harini in Mumbai. She is safe, thank goodness, and writes: “We are all ok. There are a whole bunch of people who are not. People who went to work and never returned. But the spirit of Mumbai is something else – this morning the roads are bustling with activity, the trains are running and Mumbai is back at work. Thank you for your kind wishes. How is your city recovering?”
How is my city recovering? How is my city recovering? Do I give her the usual formulaic reply I have for everyone who asks me this question? “The unaffected 20-25% is doing really well and growing in leaps and bounds, but the rest of the city falls deeper into ruin. The good is better, the bad is worse.”
What pricks me the most is that a day after 200 people gave their lives and 750 lie injured due to a grave human injustice, Harini tells me her city is recovering just fine and how are we doing? Granted:
- Mumbai houses 12,622,500 people as opposed to our approx. 1 million in the Greater Metro Area before the storm,
- Only 200 perished in a terrorist attack that took out cabs on one railway line in the western portion of the Mumbai peninsula vs. more than 200,000 displaced after the destruction of 80% of our city, and
- We are New Orleans and will (and do) take everything in typical fun-loving stride even when the body and mind rebel.
But, after an attack that would have left us crippled, Mumbai is already springing back to life. “Less than 24 hours later, commuter trains [are] running normally” “Tested again, people of Mumbai stay calm.”
Everywhere, in New York after 9/11, the Indian Ocean countries following the Southeast Asian Earthquake and Tsunami (much larger than our Thing), and now in Boston after the collapse of the Big Dig, the rush to fix wrongs, punish the culprits and return life to normal is immediate. How is my city doing after 10 months?
Tell me, readers, so I can see this from your eyes. Give me more to offer the curious and concerned. A part of me, of all of us, wonders: How long will this New Orleans last? If not until the upcoming hurricane season, maybe the next, the next, the next. As Bart says, “Even without such a disaster our existence seems marginal at times; we might not go out with a bang but a series of increasingly pathetic whimpers.” What are we rebuilding and for whom? If we rebuild, will they come? The confusion is in the back of our collective mind as we run normal, stay calm and return to life within the fugue.
What do I say?
Hell, Maitri, I’ve only been back six weeks, and I marvel at people who have been back longer. I ask myself the same question every day. In a week or two, NPR is going to shove a microphone in my face and ask me why I came back. I knew the answer in January, when we decided. I knew it the first week I was back. Now, I’m no longer sure of the answers. I think Bart comes closest, also echoing a post I made some months ago: if we can’t save NOLA, then we probably can’t save America. This country’s “century” is ended, and I might as well spend its increasingly ugly twilight years at home. But today is just an ill-feeling day, for no specific, discernible reason. Tomorrow, I will be ready to take up my hopper and start climbing the ladder again.
I can tell you that I was beginning to feel “explanation fatigue” pretty hard during ALA when every conversation began practically from scratch.. something alonf the lines of… “Well New Orleans is protected by an extensive federally designed levee system…”
I think two things are contributing to the current malaise. 1) Many people are waiting for the end of this hurricane season before they begin to feel truly comfortable with their plans for the future. 2) It’s summer, it’s hot, this has always been a kind of boring and ruttish time of year in New Orleans and I definitely think some of that natural rhythm has returned… which may be more encouraging than not.
this City will be rebuilt by the “tired”..Our struggles are endless,our voices are smothered and our concerns are unpopular..if WE fail, the City fails
New Orleans is not my home, but it is my heart’s home. Though I can understand only a fraction of what the citizens have gone through, I can feel the exhaustion that must pervade everyone’s soul. It’s on their faces, in their words, in the darting glances skyward every time lightning flashes a bit too close. Why should New Orleans rebuild and live on? Because it must live. Because no other city has its heart, its soul, its stomach, and its spirit. You’ve returned to a place others might leave for dead. What did Malcolm Reynolds tell his troops? “We have done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.” Mal could have been speaking of New Orleans.
All I can do is wish all the returnees courage and the spirit to stand. Long live New Orleans, Louisiana.
Glad to know Harini’s OK.
As for the fatigue, it comes and goes. Today I’m feeling strangely energized and optimistic.
PS: Just noticed your feeds ain’t working.
We’re in the same mood today. Scary; particularly for you.
It is the normal ebb and flow of life. Some days you feel hopeful, even optimistic, others you feel despondent. On the despondent days I tell myself it will pass. and I am blessed compared to so many. That’s the personal side.
As for the city…..I am afraid. I’ll just leave it at that.
Like an alcoholic in a twelve step program we move forward one day at a time and try to avoid the curse of prescience. We are survivors of the worst abandonment of American citizens on our own soil ever recorded, and whether we wish to admit it or not we are all scarred in one way or another.
Please be assured that your sadness and frustration are felt beyond the parish line. Here in Baton Rouge, where some 100,000 New Orleanians are trying to understand their altered states, your plight is deeply felt. I took some Arkansas friends last week to Midcity, Lakeview, Gentilly, and the 9th Ward because they felt compelled to know the truth in all its horror. At one point, near the place where the Industrial Canal levee failed, I had to stop the car – we were all silently weeping. There was the feeling that if we allowed sound to come out, we’d never stop. Your courage and determination are so admired – I don’t know where you got it, but, by God, you’re amazing. We may be struggling with our burgeoning new size and population, but we’ll continue to embrace your fellows with all our hearts.
On behalf of New Orleans, I thank you, dideau, for your kind words. I still cannot believe my eyes when I see the waterline on a building, any building, in New Orleans.
Thanks for renewing my faith in America and the fact that people like you exist. I think every human who can should come down here to see what this city has faced for the last ten months. You don’t get it until you really perceive it beyond the flashy news headlines.
Be well.