Tuesday, June 2, 2009

A Walking Tour of Must-See New Orleans

New Orleans is mind-bogglingly huge. Yes, you can drive across the city in an hour; yes, the streetcars profess to take you everywhere you could possibly ever want to go; but as a pedestrian explorer, the city is a challenge.

Hence this Must-See Tour, which is clear, unbiased, and definitely not weighted in favor of, say, bookshops or small furry animals at all. There will be a map-quest-esque short version added when I get the chance to wrangle google maps, in case anyone wants to print out and more readily use this tour, but in the meantime, let's ramble.



We'll start on the St. Charles streetcar route, at around ten a.m., and wind our way through the uptown area.




Climb on wherever is convenient, and ride down to the Lowerline stop - and along the way, appreciate one of the prettiest facades in the city. Two blocks North you've got the Central City sector, home of the Jericho Roads Episcopal Housing Initiative - historically a working-class renter's neighborhood, now about one-third vacant and ranging from slab-gone to subsidized-city-housing to opening-house-next-week! within just a few blocks. Chatter with the other people on the streetcar - the drivers are awesome people, and you're going to be in VERY close contact with the other passengers, so you may as well get to know them as the streetcar clatters and jerks down the avenue.


(Note: if you start at the French Quarter/Canal Street end of St. Charles, you have an exciting choice of vistas - either Robert E. Lee on a gigantic phallic pedestal of intimidation, or a stylized mural of penguins! Aww, penguins.)




















Climb off the streetcar at the intersection of Lowerline and St. Charles; head West one block to Cherokee St and then turn right down Cherokee. The Maple Street Bookshop is two blocks further and a left turn onto Maple St, number 7523. This store is tiny and crammed full of popular fiction, books by local authors, and an exceptional language and religion selection. The interior walls (also the windows, door, and any other flat surface) are plastered with posters for bands, art festivals, and author signings. There's a small room in the back with comfy chairs, a water cooler, and free wireless, too - perfect for rechecking your google map, if needed.

Hours are Monday - Saturday, 10am - 7pm




















When you're done, walk back down Cherokee St, heading South and towards the river. You'll need to cross St. Charles - watch out for the streetcars! - and once you do, pay attention to the houses along the way - they start out as immaculate mansions, and then slide into well-maintained houses and apartment complexes, slightly shabbier rentals, and eventually row houses and shotguns needing a new paint job. As lawncare gets leaner, you'll start to meet more people. Down by the river, rather than the avenue, residents seem to live more of their lives outside on the front porch. Turning left on Prytania, and heading straight for Audobon Park, you'll see this reverse itself. But peeling paint or not, this sector of the city feels like pride - in houses, in gardens, in cars, and in families.



























As for the corner of Prytania and Audobon Streets... it's one of the few places I've walked to in the city that felt truly quiet. The live oaks are enormous and drip with Spanish moss, and while the real estate is some of the most expensive in the city, you can still feel the community tying itself together.

One house is sponsoring a haiku corner, where neighbors and passers-by can add poems and sketches. The usual urban graffiti and anatomical inaccuracies aside, some of the poems are quite beautiful.

















Continuing down Prytania St, past the Audubon and Walnut intersections, takes you through gateposts and into Audubon Park itself. Depending on who you ask (and where you're standing at the time), you'll hear either City Park (where we volunteered last week) or Audubon Park described as the heart of the city. To use an entirely arbitrary rubric, and my own observations, Audubon Park has more squirrels, so it wins out.

(Also, the City Park area just isn't terribly convenient to a walking tour, and there are no good bookshops in the vicinity. The New Orleans Museum of Art is fantastic, though. But I'm totally telling the truth about the squirrels.)

There's a walking/biking loop trail around the park - stroll counterclockwise, towards the back of the park, which borders on Magazine Street and the Audubon Zoo.











After enjoying the squirrels, ducks, egrets, attractive joggers and golden retrievers, the next option is to go to the Audubon Zoo. Zoo timing is tricky, and while I was able to see most everything in an hour and a half, planning for 2 or three hours is a good idea. (What with Maple Street Books and the twenty-odd blocks you'll have walked thus far, you may need to relax at the iMax for a while. Personally, I recommend the benches by the sea lion tank for a quick rest stop.) I recommend just getting snacks here - try the food court to the left of the Elephant fountain, and make friends with the free-ranging peacock while you're at it.




Of the exhibits, I particularly loved the Earthlab, which has educational modules on composting, trash, and recycling - which includes recycling all kinds of found objects for the zoo's critters to play with. (Apparently the primates on Monkey Island are fond of Mardi Gras beads and boas?!)



As for the other exhibits, definitely check out the white gators in the fantastic swamp sector for one of the best explanations of that genetic mutation and modern, popular show animal I've seen yet. Ethics aside, the white tigers in the Asian Domain are beautiful, and there are the classic staples of Asian and African elephants, giraffes, spotted cats, and otters to keep anyone awed and clicking away with cameras.




After the zoo, walk East along Magazine Street for about ten blocks. This is one of the best places to shop in the city - maybe not on par with the art galleries on Royal Street, or the convenience of the RiverWalk by the conference center complex, but Magazine Street hosts the best range of coffee shops, odd places to eat, jewelry stores, vintage clothes boutiques, and, of course, bookstores. If you can, stop by Fuel (4807 Magazine) or Bee Sweet Cupcakes (5706 Magazine) - you'll be glad you did.

The next official tour stop is Octavia Books - and to get there, you'll need to turn right (or South, if you've gotten turned around) down Octavia Street from Magazine St. (If you're lost, there's a Community Coffee one block up at the corner of Jefferson and Magazine - the baristas are lovely people, and will cheerfully get you turned around the right way.)

Octavia Books is a beautiful, open store with a fantastic selection. I got quite cheerfully lost in the children's section for about half an hour - it's amazing. There are posters advertising classic books and new releases, and a local history section that made me lament the limitations of my luggage - I'd continue about my library, etc., except the consonance is out of hand already.

Hours are Monday - Saturday, 10am - 6pm, and Sunday 12pm - 5pm.




The next stop is Domilise's, for a late lunch. Continue down Octavia Street for one block, and then turn left on Annunciation Street. Domalise's is four blocks down and to the right at the corner with Bellecastle St. They serve the best po' boys in town, and the gentleman tending bar willingly shares stories about the owners' family and long history in the area. Don't let the neighborhood or the building itself fool you - the restaurant may be less fancy on the outside than the places up on Magazine Street, but the sandwiches are fantastic. (There's a more eloquent review here.)






The last order of the tour is to return to the St. Charles streetcar line - which is as simple as heading North up Bellecastle Street. It's three blocks to Magazine Street, if you feel like more shopping, or another eight or so to St. Charles.



So there you have it - a walking (-intensive) tour in the Uptown area, hitting some of the must-see locations and social gradations in the city.



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Monday, May 25, 2009

Plans for sharing-what-I've-learned

We're drawing to the end of our time here in New Orleans - I'm flying out Friday morning - and we're having to think about how to share our experiences. (We're currently in stage three of study away experiences: Planning, Actually Being There and Never Sleeping, Debriefing, and then Continuing To Blab About It For The Next Year.)

So, sharing:

- Pictures will be getting posted, here and perhaps on Flickr; more info on that when I decide.
- More videos (and then embarassed explanations thereof) will be getting posted, just as soon as I steal the camera back from Sarah B.
- This blog! which, er, if you're reading *this* post, presumably you're reading anyway. Sound off in the comments: have you learned anything from reading? Do you have questions?
- A reflexive (probably) essay - which I'll post here, too, once I write the darn thing.
- If I see you in person on a regular basis, man, you're going to get your ear talked off. Read More......

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Longue Vue Gardens

This was - huh. I'll have to come back and add some reaction-y bits, but seeing as the peanut gallery is rioting about the lack of pictures, I thought I'd throw this up. In any case, the garden was beautiful, we've met the head gardener and and eaten at her house, and the photography project (see news snippet under the cut) made me cry. So here, have some video of us wandering around the green:





Pontchartrain Park Photography Project Opening
Thursday, May 21
5 – 7 p.m.
Cost: Free
Longue Vue, the students of Coghill Elementary School, and the residents of Pontchartrain Park welcome you to the opening of the Pontchartrain Park Photography Project, which will be on display through summer 2009.  Funded by a History Channel Save Our History Grant, this project is executed by Longue Vue and its project partners, The New Orleans Kid Camera Project, Tulane University, and Delgado Community College.  Project partner members worked with seventh and eighth graders at Coghill Elementary School to document the history of the school’s neighborhood Pontchartrain Park.  The students oral history collections and photographs are featured at the exhibit, as well as a documentary on Pontchartrain Park.  Longue Vue is one of eleven history organizations nationwide to receive a Save Our History Grant.  This grant funds innovative preservation projects designed to bring communities together, actively engage children in the preservation of their local history, and communicate the importance of saving local history for future generations.
Contact Jen Gick at 504.488.5488, ext. 320 or jgick@longuevue.com for more information.

(taken from here.)

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Sunday, May 17, 2009

So a professor, a post-graduate, and and undergrad walk into a martini bar...

Surprisingly, that isn't the start of a raunchy joke. Well. It could be, but I'm too lazy to make one up, and 'raunchy' would be kind of awkward, anyway. That said, since I last wrote, I have:


- drunk my first martini (the Bombay Club in the French Quarter; pomegranate, yum. tasted weirdly like drinking jello)
- tried bourbon (in a mint julep; have yet to drink it straight)
- tried a hurricane at Pat O'Briens on Bourbon Street (ew, cherry cough syrup, but it Had To Be Done, although Pat O's was choc-full of Tulane graduates, which made standing upright difficult. Their website says "Step off the well worn path of Bourbon Street into our tranquil paradise!"; I say "HAH.")
- walked down Bourbon St on a Saturday night, which, wow.
(Wow.)
- learned about Jean Lafitte and his, er, alliance with Andrew Jackson. Sometimes.
- hiked through a swamp (Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve in Marrero, just outside the city proper)
- taken a car-tour of several of the worst-hit parishes, including Lakeview and Lake Pontchartrain, and a few streets of the Ninth Ward. There are no trees left.
- spent two days carving new rows for a community garden just past I-10 (see the class blog, http://furmannola.blogspot.com/, for more details), and getting a lovely archeological cross-section of the average New Orleans housing lot at the same time. (Clay. More clay. Packed oyster shells. Bricks. Parts of bathtub.)
- been on an Abita pub crawl
- tried raw oysters in the shell
- ate brunch at Arnaud's
(dear assorted deities: the original creator of Bananas Foster can be nominated for sainthood, please)
- made friends with a bass fiddle player who's been in the business for sixty-four years ("They dropped the bombs on Tuesday and Friday, and on Saturday, I got my first paying gig - I was thirteen years and eight months old, and I played for four hours and made $4.28. That's when I knew my bass fiddle and me were in this for the long haul.")
- escaped my group and ridden the trolley on my own (okay, okay, I had permission. still: silence. it's beautiful.)
- taken refuge in a Borders! woo! Which is where I'm typing from.


It's a beautiful day - thundering, pouring down rain, and quiet.

Tomorrow we're volunteering at St. Margaret's nursing home.

And I actually typed an additional paragraph here, but it was depressing me, so let's just say this is far outside my comfort zone and leave it at that. I know that the most important thing is to be present, to smile and to listen and to pay attention, and to make the residents feel like someone cares - and that is something that I can do.

That said, family, expect a phone call tomorrow night. I love you!

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Thursday, May 14, 2009

Video test post!

Devil Went Down to Georgia, from Wednesday's concert in Lafayette Square.



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Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Woo, Second Day and I'm Still Sunburn-Free!

Also, my feet don't hurt!

We're camped out in the Community Coffee House on the ground floor of the Pan Am building. Mmm, chicory coffee. Just what I needed - a new caffeine obsession, whee!


Today was a lot of fun - we worked with an AmeriCorp volunteer at the City Park.

(Which also means driving through the mid-city sector - which looks precisely like that generic functional bit of every city I've ever been in. Car dealerships, fast food joints, churches, Wal-Mart, etc. The Home Depot, though - man, I've never seen so many day-laborers like that. Not East of Albuquerque, at least. It's a heads-up to how much of the city is still unemployed - and possibly how much of a call there is for semi-professional construction work. Either way, wow.)

The point of the day was wetlands restoration of the Big Lake (a man-made estuary). We planted bulrushes and cord grass, which grow in deeper water, and pas palum, which grows along the shore. I'll have to come back in a few years and see how it does! There were, as usual, shenanigans. And most people fell in the lagoon. Rubber overalls that come up to your armpits are hard to move in! Especially in six inches of water over two feet of squishy, clay-rich mud; it was unexpectedly much more fun than I ever could have predicted.

Around 5:30 or so, we wandered over to Lafayette Park - there's a Wednesday in the Square sort of festival, presumably every week, and it was pretty awesome. There was a live rock band, whose name I have yet to look up, with a female vocalist/violinist - they played Journey, and Jefferson Airplane, and Charlie Daniels' "Devil Went Down to Georgia," which was incredible.

They also had slushie/daquiri things, and ginger-marinated soy-basted shrimp, which were much more exciting.

Well, that ended up being more straight-forward than most of my posts. Huh. *waves*

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Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Aand... we're here! In New Orleans, I mean.

Or, well, more specifically, in the lobby of the Pan Am building stealing wireless. Anyway.

Rambling under the cut!


One ten-hour van ride later, we've left South Carolina and arrived in the deep(er?) south. Strangely, most people here have accents that would otherwise place them in, say, Jersey. Or Ohio. And, just for posterity's sake, you have to specify Sweet Tea within the French Quarter - dunno yet outside of there, but I will report back!

Being back in New Orleans is strange. I've been here twice, I believe - the first time was as a three-year-old tagging along to a chemistry conference; I ran afoul of some fire ants, and spent most of the trip scratching in agony and then throwing up cheerios everywhere. Mom does not have very fond memories of that trip. Happily, I have very few memories, period. I remember buying a small harlequin doll in one of the shops - porcelain face, white-and-silver jester suit, priced half-off because one thumb was broken - and having a complete stranger hand me a mask on the street, possibly because I was cute? Or because it was a full week after Mardi Gras and he was tired of carrying it? I'm not sure.

The mask has hung on my bedroom wall ever since, the purple, green, and yellow feathers cheerfully clashing with everything else. The second time I visited New Orleans, I was about fourteen and one a family roadtrip. I was right at that age where you try to walk five yards ahead of or behind the family, because they're all just so embarrassing, god, and most of what I recall is food-based. Beignets at Cafe du Monde - which I didn't actually like that much, I hate doughnuts, but their hot chocolate was awesome. Jambalaya somewhere - I honestly can't recall - that jump-started my fascination with creole cooking. My poor family and assorted roommates are still living with the consequences. ("You put garlic and onions in what? Why does the macaroni taste like cajun seasoning?" Oh, Tony Chachere, you are so co-culpable here.)

I remember the architecture much better from this second trip. Mom has some graduate studies in history and architecture, and even hanging far back and pretending she didn't exist, I was able to pick up a great deal about Queen Anne roofs and wrought-iron balconies. I remember the colors - salmon and brick red, sunflower orange and cheerful avocado greens - and the sleek roofs, with gables and cool twisty bits. It makes driving into the city now feel very strange - patches and tarps and mismatched tiles abound, even if the balconies are still trailing greenery and most of the paint has been touched up.

Thus far - I've been in the city less than 24 hours - we've seen only a small segment of the business sector and perhaps half of the French Quarter. (Expect pictures, uh, sometime.) Repair efforts have been fast and thorough, and this is the highest-altitude part of the city. I don't know what the rest of the city is going to look like. I know what the houses and apartments lining I-10 on the way into the city look like, yes - normal, with Lease Now! banners and cookie-cutter suburbs, until, wham, there's a house with no roof, or an apartment complex that hasn't repainted, and this is no longer Anywhere, USA but a city that is still recovering from a massive disaster less than four years ago.

Today was touristy - hence the French Quarter tours, and man, my knees are not happy - but tomorrow we start the service section of the course. I'm... waiting, I guess? Not worriedly, or anxiously, or anything, I just... we'll have to see.

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Saturday, May 9, 2009

Ada Lovelace comics!

Ongoing and awesomeness! (Seriously, if I were to list off my current semi-academic obsessions, the list goes something like 1. tea, 2. gender politics and bias in science, 3. comics omg, 4. really weird anthropology, and 5., TEA.)

So this is exceptionally cool. Here is the first part - the origin story - and here is the second, which begins the adventures of Lovelace and Babbage! Whee!


Mm, Ada Lovelace. Read More......

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

On to business! Or: Psh, I Was Planning On Bringing My Own Towels Anyway

I'd actually set up this blog for a course I'm taking this May - three weeks doing service learning in New Orleans, LA, with my soon-to-be alma mater. (Yes, that's the hysteric cry of a senior four weeks from graduation, why do you ask?) We'll be living in a two-floor boarding house in the business district, cooking on a $20 for a family of 10 budget, volunteering at the farmer's market and with the local Habitat for Humanity branch. Follow us here, if you'd like. Nine white, upper-middle class students from a tiny, private liberal arts school turned loose in the big easy? Well, it's going to be an adventure.

Anyway, this space will hold packing lists (I mean, free verse poetry exploring functionality as its own aesthetic!) and, eventually, photos, which I suspect is all that anyone's interested in. Yes, Mom, I'm putting pictures of myself on the internet.


I have a bet going with myself: will I be able to resist writing a paper titled "The City that Care Forgot, No, Really: Irony and Stewardship in New Orleans?"

I'm currently betting myself 3 beignets that I won't.

And until I find or code a widget for this:
Currently listening to Terry Callier's The Lazarus Man. *shivers*

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Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Happy Ada Lovelace Day!

Wow, I wish I'd heard about this earlier, but here's my off-the-cuff tribute: to our female techies! To Ada Lovelace herself, our first computer programmer!




Three cheers go out to my coworkers, as well - our twelve-woman team (admittedly including one sort of honorary-female) serves as academic tech support for our small liberal arts college. Hurrah for us - for every fixed software issue, every server update, every coded login system and organizational algorithm that gets used in our center, hurrah for us!

Try here for more information about Ada herself, and here to join the pledge for Ada Lovelace day.



To finish, my favorite Sarah Williams poem - on astronomy, not technology, yes, but on the courage that it takes to plow into the next challenge, or the next field where no one believes you belong, and to hold science and hard work and passion for discovery above everything else.

Sarah Williams, published in 1868, The Old Astronomer to his Pupil.

Reach me down my Tycho Brahe, I would know him when we meet,
When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet;
He may know the law of all things, yet be ignorant of how
We are working to completion, working on from then to now.

Pray remember that I leave you all my theory complete,
Lacking only certain data for your adding, as is meet,
And remember men will scorn it, 'tis original and true,
And the obliquy of newness may fall bitterly on you.

But, my pupil, as my pupil you have learned the worth of scorn,
You have laughed with me at pity, we have joyed to be forlorn,
What for us are all distractions of men's fellowship and smiles;
What for us the Goddess Pleasure with her meretricious smiles.

You may tell that German College that their honor comes too late,
But they must not waste repentance on the grizzly savant's fate.
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
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Thursday, January 29, 2009

So Piet Hein is a brilliant, if somewhat obscure, Danish poet/philospher/amateur civic engineer - and his grooks, or short poems, have an addictive rhythm and a blink-inducing difference of perspective.

I'm stashing a few more of his poems here - I keep needing them, and his anthologies are on my book shelves several states away - and also trying out "selective expandable posting" (think a livejournal cut) courtesy of Hackophere - specifically, this post.



WHAT LOVE IS LIKE

Love is like
a pineapple,
sweet and
undefinable.


THE WISDOM OF THE SPHERES

How instructive
is a star!
It can teach us
from afar
just how small
each other are.


NOTHING IS INDESPENSABLE
A Grook to warn the universe against megalomania

The universe may
be as great as they say.
But it wouldn't be missed
if it didn't exist.


THE CURE FOR EXHAUSTION

Sometimes, exhausted
with toil and endeavour,
I wish I could sleep
for ever and ever;
but then this reflection
my longing allays:
I shall be doing it
one of these days.


OUT OF TIME
A holiday thought.

My old clock used to tell the time
and subdivide diurnity;
but now it's lost both hands and chime
and only tells eternity.


ATOMYRIADES

Nature, it seems, is the popular name
for milliards and milliards and milliards
of particles playing their infinite game
of billiards and billiards and billiards.


ON PROBLEMS

Our choicest plans
have fallen through,
our airiest castles
tumbled over,
because of lines
we neatly drew
and later neatly
stumbled over.


The Road to Wisdom

The road to wisdom?-
Well, it’s plain and simple to express:
Err
and err
and err again
but less
and less
and less.


Problems

Problems worthy
of attack
prove their worth
by hitting back.
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Can I Still Call It a Commonplace Book...

... if everything in it is slightly weird?

For starters, here's Piet Hein:

THE EGOCENTRICS

People are self-centered
to a nauseous degree.
They will keep on about themselves
while I'm explaining me. Read More......