New Orleans

David and I took a whirlwind trip to New Orleans last week. It all came together at the last minute, so I'm still amazed that I was able to go. (Big thanks to David's sister Emily who volunteered to watch the girls for us!) Not only had I never been to New Orleans, I'd never explored a new city on my own before. David had to work all day Monday (which is why we were there in the first place) so I got to wander around by myself. I was surprised by how quickly I fell in love.

The place is full of such strange contradictions. Old and new, sacred and profane, wealthy and impoverished. It's all there. Steamboats chug under soaring bridges, and trolleys putter past sleek skyscrapers. It seems the city wants to modernize as much as possible while still clinging to its rich, diverse heritage.

Everything--literally everything, from pavement to windowpanes and everything in between--has something growing on it. Giant trees are covered in Spanish moss or resurrection fern. Moss gilds every brick. Trees and flowers are literally sprouting out of stone crypts. Someone needs to set a Jack and the Beanstalk movie in NOLA, because it's completely believable that something so huge could grow there overnight.

In the midst of all that growth, everything man-made seems to be falling apart. Cemeteries and neighborhoods alike are the target of construction and restoration efforts. Walls lean, shutters are falling off hinges, and the pot holes. Don't get me started on the pot holes. The place has clearly seen some hard times.

St. Louis Cathedral is stunning and reverent...and only a few blocks away from the infamous Bourbon Street. For every stone cross you see there are dozens of Mardi Gras beads, dangling from trees and telephone wires and sometimes even on the crosses themselves.

New Orleans Mardi Gras may or may not a drunken hedonistic free-for-all rather than a prelude to Lent and the Easter season, but, weirdly enough, amongst all the evidence of depravity there are also lit candles, flowers and rosaries placed on tombs, penitents crossing themselves at the threshold of the cathedral. Whatever NOLA's reputation otherwise, God is there.

I saw enormous Southern mansions, with columns porticoes and stone lions aplenty. I saw hungry people with neither hope in their eyes nor enough clothing to keep out the cold. I saw classical art and folk art and there was music everywhere. I ate some of the most incredible food on the planet. I saw more of history and humanity in two days and a few square miles than I've seen in a long time.

If the people of New Orleans stopped caring as much about their home as they do, the bayou would probably reclaim it in a matter of months. It would be lost to that crazy Delta jungle and that'd be that. But they don't. They fight for that city every day. It shows.

Everyone I spoke to had such a deep pride in their hometown; more than that, I could tell they wanted me to love it like they do. They wanted me to see its charm and overlook its shortcomings. They kept the sidewalks scrubbed clean and the gas-lamps lit at all times. Their candy-colored houses looked inviting and their kindness was genuine.

Yes, it's got it sketchy areas. And yes, if I had gone in the heat and humidity of summer, I'd probably feel differently. And yes, truth be told, pastels and wrought-iron scrolls aren't really my aesthetic jam.

But there is something about that place, with the Gulf and the River and the buildings and the people and the ever-present smell of something tasty and fried... It's bewitching. I can't wait to go back.