28.6.08

The last few weeks...

Tay flew over three thousand miles to come and see me and to ensure she wasn't disappointed we crammed in as much as possible, which didn't leave much time to write.

The first weekend, We went to a barbecue hosted by the American interns, where we learned to play beer-pong and flip-cup. We also saw Ladytron at the House of Blues, which was fantastic. When I return to England I will be campaigning for the introduction of air conditioning in night clubs.

The next weekend we spent some time at the Tomato, Zydeco and Seafood Festival, which was all rolled into one, and ate oysters and burgers.

Last weekend we went 'Tubing', and this merits more of a description. Having concluded that it lacks the competitive element of a sport, I feel it can only truly be described as a pastime, in which the time is passed whilst sitting in an inner tube from a lorry (or 'truck' as the locals would have it) and floating down a river. The experience is greatly enhanced by the happy coincidence that coolers also float, even if they are filled with beer and ice. Traditionally one of these is wedged through another inner tube to prevent it from rolling over, and everybody attaches their inner tubes to that one so that the beer can easily be passed around. The only threat to the tranquility of tubing is posed by fallen trees in the river. They can easily be avoided by the groups paddling in its cluster of inner tubes to the left or right. The direction is not important, but agreement is crucial.

The next day we took a tour of Honey Island swamp, where they have turtles, blue herons, flying fish and alligators. The harmless animals were merely observed from a distance, but the alligators were of course deliberately encouraged to approach the boat so that we could observe just how dangerous they are from inches away. Our guide cheerfully explained that they can fit their heads through the railings along the side of the boat, and suggested we keep our hands away from the sides.

Meanwhile I have been visiting Louisiana State Penitentiary, known simply as Angola. At 18000 acres it is almost as big as Manhattan, and from most areas, you can't even see the fence. Angola is home to more than 5000 inmates. Just over half of them are serving life sentences, without the possibility of parole, which means they will die there. Others are facing execution by lethal injection. Still more are serving sentences as long as 99 years for armed robbery. The prison is surrounded on three sides by the raging Mississippi river, and on the fourth by forests and hills. Nobody has ever escaped.

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1.6.08

Still alive in New Orleans

I'm not supposed to discuss work in detail, but what happened on Thursday was so intense that it's completely overshadowed the rest of the week. The trial we had been watching suddenly arrived at its brutal, sickening conclusion. If I'm honest with myself I have to admit that although the verdict is completely unjustifiable, it was inevitable. I suppose it was like watching Ricky Hatton get knocked out by Floyd Mayweather, only a thousand times worse. It's taken a few days to come to terms with.

Unfortunately it coincided with the week my Mum came to visit, but she came with a friend and they seem to have had a great time. Last weekend we all went out to see one of the old sugar plantations, which was pretty interesting. Apparently in Louisiana slavery was more a class issue than a race issue. Slaves and owners were a mix of races, and there were even Africans who owned white slaves.

On Friday we went to see the Rebirth Brass Band and Trombone Shorty, which was good fun. There's probably about 15 people in the band and they make a lot of noise. Last night we saw Shamar Allen playing the trumpet and singing in a bar on Frenchmen Street. He's adapted 'Crazy' by Gnarls Barkley for post-Katrina New Orleans:

I remember when,
I remember I remember when I lost my house,
There was something unpleasant about that day,
When I came back to New Orleans,
It was a big empty space.

It's amazing that people here are able to laugh about the hurricane that destroyed half their city. 'Katrina was here' is spray-painted on the walls and there are bumper stickers everywhere bearing the slogan 'New Orleans, proud to swim home'. I suppose the point is that life goes on, and on that note I'm going to get breakfast...

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