A tale of nights and days in New Orleans

I have made a decent number of trips conducting Mercy Corps business as a Regional Finance Officer. All of them have been overseas, where the lion’s share of our operations are conducted. This made my trip to New Orleans exclusively and exceptionally special.

It also meant that, for the first time, I did less research on the cultural intricacies of the place I was visiting. Such foreknowledge is essential for traveling to many places where Mercy Corps works, where cultural, religious and political misunderstandings are things we must avoid. But this trip was different: I decided to learn about New Orleans simply by going there and living it.

New Orleans' iconic St. Louis Cathedral, overlooking Jackson Square. Photo: Roger Burks/Mercy Corps

Once in the city, my cultural undertaking was based on a typical tourist walking map of New Orleans. One of the well-known pastimes is an early evening stroll along the Mississippi. My version included stopping by Café du Monde and grabbing a bag of beignets and a macchiato for the road. So, with my clothes covered by the powdered sugar from indulgence in beignets, I sat on one of the park benches overlooking the mighty river, slowly sipping my macchiato. At dusk, the Mississippi was asleep and quiet, with sounds coming only from foot traffic, distant jazz music and occasional click-clacks of horseshoes as the caleches picked up and dropped off tourists at Jackson Square. The evening cooled off as the sky changed color. With a myriad of architectural treasures as a backdrop, the scene and mood were picture perfect.

As darkness blanketed the city, another character of this magical place emerged. Culinary brilliance was displayed on each restaurant door, with alluring smells to entice entry. Magnificent courtyards lit by oil gas lamps set the tone and century-old sazerac cocktails quench the thirst. Evenings here are an adventure of music and meandering through crowded streets. There was no way I could have imagined the culture, beauty and magic of this city before I landed there on July 10th.

But once the music stopped and cocktail wells dried out, the real everyday New Orleans unveiled itself. It’s like the city itself was suffering a painful hangover after a long night out.

The mornings and daytimes reminded me of what was missing and why I was there in the first place. When the jazz notes die out and the nightly glamour fades, then you’ll start seeing the other story of New Orleans. There is the remnant of destroyed homes as a result of Hurricane Katrina, the jobless and hopeless street corners occupied by people of all ages. There's the reality of soaring youth crime statistics.

During the daylight hours, the feeling of emptiness crept in and my mind felt caged. The deserted streets and blocks of the Lower Ninth Ward neighborhood reminded me of the destructive nature of Hurricane Katrina. Some of the empty lots were decorated by half-buried kids' toys. I couldn’t stop to wonder, how was life before this? Where is the family that used to live here?

Local associations, many supported by Mercy Corps, are determined to revitalize still-empty New Orleans neighborhoods. Photo: Flickr, courtesy of mandrs

I saw several signs indicating that stray dogs had been found. Some people were obviously still around among these empty houses, but most of these shells of buildings were no longer homes with families. It was the most paradoxical environment I've ever come across: where the nights of the French Quarter gave a glimpse of prosperity, the days of the Lower Ninth Ward gave a glimpse of poverty, all within a short distance.

Mercy Corps, through local neighborhood partners here in New Orleans, is trying to address some of the challenges that remain here. We’re currently trying to provide financial backup and aid expertise to local non-profits that provide various social and environmental services to local communities. But ultimately it’s the people — the individuals who comprise post-hurricane New Orleans — who I found making a difference.

This pool of do-gooders is full of riches in their hearts and braveness in their acts. They are volunteers from across the United States, as well as locals who decided to take matters into their own hands. But what I was most encouraged by was finding an overwhelming number of youth who poured into every parish, ward or community to make good things happen.

A Mercy Corps colleague who travelled with me joked about this, saying if you throw a stone in this town you’re very likely to hit one of the many young volunteers. The sheer number alone is impressive, but their dedication and emotional investment is unbelievable. These young women and men have travelled from all over the country, often for long periods of time, to be the change they want to see. In an era of choices, these youth have chosen to rebuild this devastated community and leave behind the luxuries their homes provide.

Young volunteers from devastated neighborhoods — as well as from across the United States — are helping New Orleans residents reclaim their homes and lives. Photo: Flickr, courtesy of BrucePappas

The few volunteers that I talked to carried their smiles and enthusiasm in their work. In the steaming heat of New Orleans, they work long, hard hours yet still embody the spirit of giving and project the life of loving.

I was especially moved by the young people of New Orleans who refused to leave and find greener pastures elsewhere. On top of staying, many have chosen humanitarian work as a career. They're determined to see their community through to a better standard of living.

I met one young lady who has decided to embark in a graduate study in non-profit management. At the same time, she’s working with an inner-city program, through one of Mercy Corps’ partnerships, to help restore a normal adolescence to disaster-affected youth from poor neighborhoods. These youth, mostly African American males, have been exposed to violence and live in an area that has the highest rate of youth violence in the country.

I also met a young man who decided to respond to a humanitarian calling by joining a youth development initiative. He lives in a tough neighborhood and understands the trauma that comes with living there. But instead of running away from this troubled community, he’s working with youth groups to try and help them break the chains of violence and suffering. It’s a very dangerous job, considering the affiliation of many of these youth to violent gangs, but he does it with heart and intelligence.

A lot has been said about how the authorities reacted to the emergency in Hurricane Katrina's aftermath. Some have gone as far as criticizing the government for not doing enough for its people. We can live and speculate whether the government was ill-prepared or cared less but, in the end, we won’t be helping the people who need us most.

In the end, it’s the people who make a difference. To me seeing the future —the youth — of this country at work, who have decided to take on this work themselves, made my day.

There’s nothing wrong with experiencing New Orleans by night and learning about its many cultural offerings, but it’s essential to come back by day and help rebuild the future of this beautiful place.