The I of the Storm
I just ordered a glass of champagne and was given a bowl of assorted snacks in the Lowes Hotel on Poydras. There is a/c, there is WIFI, there are cocktails and food. I’m now a believer that I can survive anything if every once in a while someone gave me some luxuries. A friend is here with her son, Tin’s friend, and they are up in the room jumping on the beds in the a/c. We all have our priorities.
We got home Monday night and lost power before I could have one full night of chilled out sleep. And so began our big welcome home.
When I heard about the hurricane, my initial thought was “whatever” – a far cry from the dramatic reaction of 2005 or even 2007 with Gustav’s evacuation. I’ve reached a saturation level of crisis in my life, and now I’ve grown, how should I say in English, APATHETIC.
Apathy is dangerous. In Spain, when the politician stood up and said FUCK THEM ALL about the unemployed, no one reacted. There were Facebook posts, and tweets, but nothing to suggest outrage that a Spaniard’s tax euros were going to pay the salary of a very loathsome woman wearing Gucci shoes and giving the finger to the masses.
It’s the same apathy that was apparent in Croatia where the people are used to not having luxuries or rather that only a few have luxuries as long as the common man has a place to have a beer and a place to lay your head. Apathy colors every mile on this journey.
Now at home, Hurricane Isaac, and what? Nada. A big bunch of nothing. We have come home to the house that is either a blessing or a curse – we haven’t decided – or perhaps it’s both and we deal the cards. Although I’m not so certain that I deal any cards anymore. If the Federal Flood wasn’t enough to demonstrate that I have no control over my destiny, and 22 hours behind the wheel for Gustav wasn’t, then Isaac is here to say – you’re a nutball if you think you have any control over your life.
The night I arrived a guy was playing the banjo, the next night a brass band erupted on the bayou and played until way after nightfall as friends poured in from their own hot houses bringing food that might go bad. The stop bys have continued, battery powered fans have been delivered, and still we are all at wit’s end after day upon day of no electricity, unbearable heat, and I can hear my neighbor weeping (they finally left), I can hear my other neighbor’s generator that is causing major distress to the other neighbor, I can see the ragged edges of my other neighbors who finally left for Florida this morning – it’s been 6 days without electricity.
I went this morning for a blood test – I had to fast before I went and I just felt like why not – we’ve been using cold beer (from neighbor’s coolers), and assorted snacks to weather the storm, but inside we are not weathering it anymore – we have reached our limits.
Our apathy has turned to anger but we just don’t know where to vent it anymore. We don’t know if we can escape our lives – Spain has a drought and the highest unemployment in the land, Croatia is inhospitable to us (although I must say I did see blacks and gays there for the first time on this visit), and New Orleans – my darlin’ New Orleans – how can we continue like this?