In a striking contrast to Saturday morning, today I definitely wake up still drunk. This has the upside of granting me precious hours to have an intense session of bread and water consumption, but the downside of having to function like a productive (sober) member of society in daylight. Since the rest of the household left Frenchmen street at a reasonable hour yesterday night, (while I made new friends...don't ask) I'm the only one who is apparently dancing around to songs in my head. The recovery period for today is much lengthier than yesterday, but again I don't feel overly guilty about the waste of day. By this point I've officially convinced myself that I will move to this city, so sightseeing can wait.
After a restorative shower I'm ready to see Audubon Park, a beautiful green space bordered by the Mississippi and Tulane University. Statues, fountains, and ponds are scattered throughout, and a paved trail winds around the approximate two miles of park. It's packed with joggers, which on the surface seems healthy and idyllic, but ultimately reflects the fact that so few places in the city are actually safe for a nice long run. Still, city planners have done an excellent job as it is peaceful, surprisingly quiet, and filled with ducks. (Side note: I can't believe how shocking it was to see actual non-vermin wildlife in a city.)
The rest of Sunday is spent with last minute catching up sessions, more beignets, and a trip to a "Creole Taqueria" which tastes suspiciously like any Mexican restaurant ever. Being eaten alive by mosquitoes become one more New Orleans experience I can unhappily...scratch...off my list.
I definitely learned a lot from this visit. For one, it was very new and disconcerting to be in a place where safety is a major concern. I've never thought twice about walking home after a late night out, whereas here it's inadvisable to even wait outside for a cab. Being a racial minority, dealing with vaguely sexual comments from strangers, and trying to reconcile living a life of excess while surrounded by poverty were all new experiences. In many ways New Orleans feels like two cities, or rather, one city with an incongruous section of tourism forcibly inserted. But I don't think this is accurate either, because the New Orleans of jazz, mayhem, and French charm certainly has an important heritage. Maybe it is just that this segment of the city is so commercialized that at times it hardly feels real. However this doesn't make it any less magical, and I can't wait to return to this sexy sweaty city.
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