Hello again faithful readers...just a quick note to let you know that I am apparently applying for permanent refugee status.
The advice of the weathermens, the random friends, the airport peoples, it all comes together and then reaches me in the form of my parents saying no, no no, why don't you just stay here? So I'm staying a couple extra days to keep an eye on Ike. It seems that it might not be so wise to go back just yet.
But wow, what a week here. What a week. Some extremely cool people to hang out with...and, well, one significant wonderous person to hang out with. I'm not sure that many who go on evacuation vacations end up with a relationship out of the deal, but hey, I'm not going to complain. I'm happy. It's fun.
What happens next, in terms of where I land, in terms of when I go back to NOLA? I don't know yet, but of course I'll keep y'all posted.
Showing posts with label hurricane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hurricane. Show all posts
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Sunday, August 31, 2008
It happened too fast to make sense of it
So here I am in Seattle. And I'm conflicted.
I want to be here in Seattle. But I didn't want to be here this way. This hasty way, of more or less running away, of fleeing a city and not really realizing what it all meant. I walk through my neighborhood and I think of all that I love and didn't realize that I missed: the smell of the evergreens, the ability to walk through parks, the excellent coffee at Tully's, how beautiful the lake looks and how much I miss its movement, the fact that buses actually run, my mountains.
But now I'm far away and discovering just how much I will miss the city that has settled into my heart. I miss the smell of jasmine in the evenings. I wonder where the hot sauce is at restaurants. I say hi to people on the streets and am sad when they don't say it back.
I worry for my city. I worry that it won't survive another blow. That no matter how much people love it, that it won't be able to re-recover. I'm doing my best to distract myself and not think of Gustav, but at this point, what is the hardest is not having people around that understand what it means to miss New Orleans. Texts are flying frantically, facebook is helping, but it's hard to not have anyone here who knows what it means to love a city in such a way that you worry for its safety. I am aware people have, for the most part, escaped the city. I'm not worried about my stuff--it's just stuff, and the few things that can't be replaced are with me. I'm worried that the spice and the smell and the sentiment of this distinct place will be forever lost.
I'm trying not to watch. I'm trying not to think. I'm trying not to pace in nervous circles. I'm praying, I'm crossing fingers, I'm searching for stars to wish upon. Stay safe NOLA. Stay safe.
I want to be here in Seattle. But I didn't want to be here this way. This hasty way, of more or less running away, of fleeing a city and not really realizing what it all meant. I walk through my neighborhood and I think of all that I love and didn't realize that I missed: the smell of the evergreens, the ability to walk through parks, the excellent coffee at Tully's, how beautiful the lake looks and how much I miss its movement, the fact that buses actually run, my mountains.
But now I'm far away and discovering just how much I will miss the city that has settled into my heart. I miss the smell of jasmine in the evenings. I wonder where the hot sauce is at restaurants. I say hi to people on the streets and am sad when they don't say it back.
I worry for my city. I worry that it won't survive another blow. That no matter how much people love it, that it won't be able to re-recover. I'm doing my best to distract myself and not think of Gustav, but at this point, what is the hardest is not having people around that understand what it means to miss New Orleans. Texts are flying frantically, facebook is helping, but it's hard to not have anyone here who knows what it means to love a city in such a way that you worry for its safety. I am aware people have, for the most part, escaped the city. I'm not worried about my stuff--it's just stuff, and the few things that can't be replaced are with me. I'm worried that the spice and the smell and the sentiment of this distinct place will be forever lost.
I'm trying not to watch. I'm trying not to think. I'm trying not to pace in nervous circles. I'm praying, I'm crossing fingers, I'm searching for stars to wish upon. Stay safe NOLA. Stay safe.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Do You Know What It Means?
I had a perfectly lovely post planned out in my head. And now I can't find the words. I've tried to express today what it is like to be here, and how hard it is to now be one of those people, the ones that need to make that choice, the ones that need to leave their homes, the ones that are saying goodbye to a city they love. I tried to explain and the words fail.
Anyone who reads this blog knows I have a passionate love for this city, one that borders on slight insanity. Yet I've been thinking about leaving it. So why is it so hard for me to walk away this weekend?
Because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what might be lost. I fear that another hit and the city will be gone. The buildings might survive but the life won't come back.
After only a short time, New Orleans lives in me. I want to take her spirit where I go, create her foods, hear her music and smile. If the life of this city is gone, think of what it is that we will lose.
It's late, and it's been a long day.
I'm coming home. At least through Tuesday. But I'll be watching Gustav, and crossing my fingers, and praying like I've never prayed before that our city is spared. More thoughts will come, I'm sure, when I'm away from this place that has managed to slip under my skin.
Anyone who reads this blog knows I have a passionate love for this city, one that borders on slight insanity. Yet I've been thinking about leaving it. So why is it so hard for me to walk away this weekend?
Because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what might be lost. I fear that another hit and the city will be gone. The buildings might survive but the life won't come back.
After only a short time, New Orleans lives in me. I want to take her spirit where I go, create her foods, hear her music and smile. If the life of this city is gone, think of what it is that we will lose.
It's late, and it's been a long day.
I'm coming home. At least through Tuesday. But I'll be watching Gustav, and crossing my fingers, and praying like I've never prayed before that our city is spared. More thoughts will come, I'm sure, when I'm away from this place that has managed to slip under my skin.
Live the Life You're GIven With the Storms Outside.
Hi all.
The newspaper is covered with it. The news won't stop talking about it (I hear). Every Orleanian status message includes the word "Gustav" And yet it seems no one outside SE Louisiana has heard about the oncoming storm. Yes, it's early, but we're all a little on edge, and no wonder--tomorrow is the third anniversary of K-day.
Don't worry. I'm getting out.
I'll post more later after I know about whether there's an official evacuation.
Much love.
k
The newspaper is covered with it. The news won't stop talking about it (I hear). Every Orleanian status message includes the word "Gustav" And yet it seems no one outside SE Louisiana has heard about the oncoming storm. Yes, it's early, but we're all a little on edge, and no wonder--tomorrow is the third anniversary of K-day.
Don't worry. I'm getting out.
I'll post more later after I know about whether there's an official evacuation.
Much love.
k
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
I Know What It Means
August 29th, 2007.
730 days after the storm.
When I travel, the first question I am asked is, "New Orleans? Oh, how's it doing?" The second question is, inevitably, "Were you there during Katrina?"
No. I did not have to weigh the options about evacuation. I did not board up my windows and carry anything of importance to the top shelves of the second floor; except for the photos which go in the car. I did not have to try to convince the national guard to let me return to my own home and have them watch me as I scrambled to collect items before the time limit was up. Instead, two years ago I was sitting on the Lewis's couch, watching over and over the images on CNN. I remember feeling terrified. I remember feeling helpless. I remember wanting to pick up and go to a city that I'd never visited, wanting in some way to help.
And here I am, an adopted New Orleanian, still wanting in some way to help. Because the answer to the first question is, "Not great." To be fair, this city was doing not-so-good before the storm. But to have a city of such poverty and social strife and then to decimate it with a disaster created not by nature but by humans...and then to realize that this city has been nearly forgotten, that aid is only trickling in and it's going to take years and years before we truly see recovery...I realize that when people ask me how New Orleans is, that's the first time they've really thought about her. I'm a living reminder, even if the storm itself barely touched my life. I'm a reminder of the failure of humans to protect one another, of true injustice, a reminder that complete devastation can come into our lives at any time. But most don't want to see this reminder. They don't want to remember, they don't want to know that they still should be thinking about New Orleans, and more than that doing something about New Orleans.
My challenge to you--do something! Come see my city. I have a couch, it's free, but I can't make promises that it's yours during Mardi Gras so I'd try a different time. Come see the neighborhoods, see the Xs on buildings letting rescuers know if a body was found in that home, see how a perfectly rebuilt home will stand next to one falling down. Talk to people. Ask them how it feels to be living in a FEMA trailer while waiting for Road Home money. Spend money (in Orleans Parish) so that you're helping people have jobs. This city is amazing, exciting, unique. It's unlike any other in this country. To let it die would be like emptying the Smithsonian, except it's real, it's living.
There's hope here. You don't have to look far. But come see. Come stay.
Oh and check out this video if you want to know more:
http://www.youtube.com/v/mNUePU5Jkbo
730 days after the storm.
When I travel, the first question I am asked is, "New Orleans? Oh, how's it doing?" The second question is, inevitably, "Were you there during Katrina?"
No. I did not have to weigh the options about evacuation. I did not board up my windows and carry anything of importance to the top shelves of the second floor; except for the photos which go in the car. I did not have to try to convince the national guard to let me return to my own home and have them watch me as I scrambled to collect items before the time limit was up. Instead, two years ago I was sitting on the Lewis's couch, watching over and over the images on CNN. I remember feeling terrified. I remember feeling helpless. I remember wanting to pick up and go to a city that I'd never visited, wanting in some way to help.
And here I am, an adopted New Orleanian, still wanting in some way to help. Because the answer to the first question is, "Not great." To be fair, this city was doing not-so-good before the storm. But to have a city of such poverty and social strife and then to decimate it with a disaster created not by nature but by humans...and then to realize that this city has been nearly forgotten, that aid is only trickling in and it's going to take years and years before we truly see recovery...I realize that when people ask me how New Orleans is, that's the first time they've really thought about her. I'm a living reminder, even if the storm itself barely touched my life. I'm a reminder of the failure of humans to protect one another, of true injustice, a reminder that complete devastation can come into our lives at any time. But most don't want to see this reminder. They don't want to remember, they don't want to know that they still should be thinking about New Orleans, and more than that doing something about New Orleans.
My challenge to you--do something! Come see my city. I have a couch, it's free, but I can't make promises that it's yours during Mardi Gras so I'd try a different time. Come see the neighborhoods, see the Xs on buildings letting rescuers know if a body was found in that home, see how a perfectly rebuilt home will stand next to one falling down. Talk to people. Ask them how it feels to be living in a FEMA trailer while waiting for Road Home money. Spend money (in Orleans Parish) so that you're helping people have jobs. This city is amazing, exciting, unique. It's unlike any other in this country. To let it die would be like emptying the Smithsonian, except it's real, it's living.
There's hope here. You don't have to look far. But come see. Come stay.
Oh and check out this video if you want to know more:
http://www.youtube.com/v/mNUePU5Jkbo
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Keep My Ocean Calm
Attention Dean Watchers:
So far they are predicting that Dean will continue to travel westward, affecting the Lesser Antilles and then moving toward the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico.
If you are good at geography, you will note that this is, in fact, south of Louisiana. However, hurricane forecasters are still suggesting that the gulf states keep an eye out.
You can tell that there's something going on in the gulf. The temp has dropped a bit, but more so the winds have kicked up. Nothing major, obviously, but it is quite a bit breezier here than it has been in the past couple weeks. Reminds me of when we were in Guatemala and everything was blamed on "el hurrican". People are getting a bit antsy here. We watch the forecasts. Click on the title of the blog and you'll get my #1 monitoring site. Mom, if I catch you over-monitoring I will stop discussing all hurricane related activities with you.
But family, I want you not to worry too much about me. It says that things will develop over the weekend and into early next week. I'll be in Boston over the weekend, visiting a friend, and then on to Providence for a three-day work conference. I've never been to either place so I'm very very excited.
And if Dean makes a turn and we evacuate NOLA, I'll just jump on a different plane and head off for a vacation!
(I swear I'm not heartless...I don't want any hurricanes to come near us this year...I'm just trying to keep the mood as light as the breeze outside)
So far they are predicting that Dean will continue to travel westward, affecting the Lesser Antilles and then moving toward the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico.
If you are good at geography, you will note that this is, in fact, south of Louisiana. However, hurricane forecasters are still suggesting that the gulf states keep an eye out.
You can tell that there's something going on in the gulf. The temp has dropped a bit, but more so the winds have kicked up. Nothing major, obviously, but it is quite a bit breezier here than it has been in the past couple weeks. Reminds me of when we were in Guatemala and everything was blamed on "el hurrican". People are getting a bit antsy here. We watch the forecasts. Click on the title of the blog and you'll get my #1 monitoring site. Mom, if I catch you over-monitoring I will stop discussing all hurricane related activities with you.
But family, I want you not to worry too much about me. It says that things will develop over the weekend and into early next week. I'll be in Boston over the weekend, visiting a friend, and then on to Providence for a three-day work conference. I've never been to either place so I'm very very excited.
And if Dean makes a turn and we evacuate NOLA, I'll just jump on a different plane and head off for a vacation!
(I swear I'm not heartless...I don't want any hurricanes to come near us this year...I'm just trying to keep the mood as light as the breeze outside)
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
But The Wind Went and Pulled Me Into the Hurricane
How should we do this? Brackets? Simple pool? Other than fantasy baseball, I've never participated in gambling...
Although I knew that people predict the strength of hurricane season, I was unaware that people place wagers on the number of named storms that will occur.
Here's what the experts are saying:
So here are my questions for my devoted ten or so readers...how many named storms will there be this year? When will the first tropical storm touch the US? And how many times will I need to evacuate my city of New Orleans?
Yes, yes I know that y'all don't like hearing this talk. But for now, I need to joke about it. Severe weather is not a phenomenon with which I am familiar. Give me an earthquake, I'm set--get into a doorway or cower under the bed. But hurricanes? I remember August 2005, watching the coverage in the Lewis' living room, feeling a connection to a city I'd yet to visit. Now I live here, and the realities are starting to hit. NOLA can't face another damaging storm, not so quickly after Katrina. It will more or less be the end of the city. So say your prayers and cross your fingers that we only receive some good dousings of rain.
And just an FYI--we have plenty of places we can go in Baton Rouge if an evacuation is issued for New Orleans. But mom, I promise we'll go to Alabama. Really.
Although I knew that people predict the strength of hurricane season, I was unaware that people place wagers on the number of named storms that will occur.
Here's what the experts are saying:
WASHINGTON, May 22 (Reuters) - The 2007 Atlantic hurricane season will be more active than normal with 13 to 17 tropical storms, and as many as ten of them could become hurricanes, the U.S. government's top climate agency predicted on Tuesday.
Of the seven to 10 hurricanes forecast, three to five will be major ones of Category 3 or higher with winds over 110 mph (177 kmh), the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration said in its annual forecast. (rest of article linked in title)
So here are my questions for my devoted ten or so readers...how many named storms will there be this year? When will the first tropical storm touch the US? And how many times will I need to evacuate my city of New Orleans?
Yes, yes I know that y'all don't like hearing this talk. But for now, I need to joke about it. Severe weather is not a phenomenon with which I am familiar. Give me an earthquake, I'm set--get into a doorway or cower under the bed. But hurricanes? I remember August 2005, watching the coverage in the Lewis' living room, feeling a connection to a city I'd yet to visit. Now I live here, and the realities are starting to hit. NOLA can't face another damaging storm, not so quickly after Katrina. It will more or less be the end of the city. So say your prayers and cross your fingers that we only receive some good dousings of rain.
And just an FYI--we have plenty of places we can go in Baton Rouge if an evacuation is issued for New Orleans. But mom, I promise we'll go to Alabama. Really.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
