Long Time Coming...

This post is, as the title says, a long time coming. Last month, I traveled with fifteen other students from BSOT down to New Orleans to help out with Hurricane Katrina relief. We call ourselves OTGS, Occupational Therapy Gulf Support.

In the beginning, there were two things that drew me to want to travel. The first was the exciting lure of the city of New Orleans itself, the opportunity to finally experience and enjoy that infamous, one-of-a-kind culture. The second was the opportunity to really connect and deepen my acquaintances with other members of the occupational therapy program at Tufts. I’m happy to say that I feel I fulfilled both goals.

For me, New Orleans has always been one of those places I knew I’d get to someday. From its soulful music, to its renowned foods, to the heartwarming hospitality of its people, there was nothing I’d heard about the city that didn’t make me yearn to experience it for myself. When Hurricane Katrina left New Orleans nearly desolate, there was a fear that perhaps everything wonderful about the city, everything I’d ever heard to make her what she is, might be lost forever. Now, a year and a half later, it is clear that in addition to all those things New Orleans is (and remains), resilient must be added to the list.

My first impressions of New Orleans when I got there was that this was a land of pride. I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a place where the people have such a tremendously sincere, and yet inspiring pride for where they live. For them, New Orleans is clearly not just where they live, but it is also a piece of who they are. It is a piece of them, and they are a piece of it. I’ve seen this before, but never in so many people in so small a place.

My second impression of the city was that there is still an overwhelming amount of work to be done. There are parts of the city that look almost like new, and then sadly just around the corner is an area that resembles a war zone. It is clear that this massive undertaking of rebuilding New Orleans is a long term one that will continue to rely on the help of volunteers and advocates of the city for years to come. I felt honored and humbled to be a part of that undertaking, if only for a few short hours.

Being in New Orleans, seeing it with my own eyes, not in a photograph in a magazine or a news report on TV, actually standing there and taking it in, brought me to a place of deep empathy and respect for those who’ve survived and continue to endure the hardship of what Katrina has brought them. I couldn’t help but think, having grown up in an area that is hit by hurricanes yearly, how easily this could have been my own community. There were times when I would look down the street in a neighborhood in the ninth ward and almost imagine that it was my own. How would I feel if it was my house that was destroyed, if it was my neighborhood that was deserted? It made me realize how much we are all connected. It made me see that it was my duty as a citizen of the world, my duty as a human being, to reach out to a hand in need because it could just as easily have been my own hand that needed reaching out to.

There were other great things I learned from New Orleans. I learned how to try new foods that I might not try at home. Andouille sausage, mushroom sandwiches, fried oysters, dirty rice, and grits are all foods I’ll be certain to have again when given the opportunity. I learned the beauty of brass. I’ve always thought brass instruments had a remarkable sound to them, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to hear that sound again without being wistfully brought right back to New Orleans. I learned how to love football! New Orleans, specifically the Saints and the passionate devotion of their fans have achieved something my father and brother have failed at for years, and something I thought to be impossible, which is engross me in a football game. Who would’ve believed it? Not me.

Lastly, I feel that I have made some life-long memories with the people I’ve traveled with. As far as how well I knew them before New Orleans, the group was pretty diverse. Some were pretty close friends, some were merely acquaintances from class, while still others were people I had never before spoken with. I can now say, having lived in close quarters with them for a week, laughing with them, crying with them, venting with them, that we do all share a special bond, whether we realize it or not. That bond is now, and will always be precious to me. I know that there are some people in that group who I may never have much more in common with than New Orleans, but we do have that, and it’s a lot. And there were others still who I felt I really got to know in a way I had no right to expect, and I’m truly grateful that this experience has given me that.

We may be home now, it may be back to business as usual. But OTGS will always have New Orleans, and I think New Orleans now has a piece of me.