So yesterday turned out pretty well, i started to practice riding a bike. it was not the biggest success but it was step one. Also, last night i had the most interesting and invigorating conversation in a long time. Well, it was mostly me listening to this guy talk about his viewpoints on the situation down here and about the system that we live in in general. he, i believe, was a steel worker, and so hes not only very knowledgable about his trade and contruction, but also very insightful about the way things work in america. we talked a lot about the cultural influence on food, work, and respect. and eventually he got to the issue of new orleans.
now, the issue is quite complicated when you try to imagine all of the innerworkings of a city. however, in his carefully simplified metaphors he really hit some points on the head. the people here live in the closest state there is to anarchy. he explained a lot about the reasons for this, and how the real revolution is here because the people dont fight with guns and knives against "the man", but rather fight with hammers and shovels and make their own rules. new orleans really is where the change in the world is happening. people come here to be part of it. to help, to make a society completely ignored by the american system. and here it is really taking root. community gardens, volunteers and non profits controlling the housing and many small businesses, its amazing. people here have learned to expect nothing from the police, from the city, state, and federal governments. they tke what they need. people here live on ends meat- not to say that luxury is not desired, but people here understand the important things in life. i had never thought of new orleans as a revolution, as an anarchist-style society, but it is. it is so closed off from the rest of american culture it seems like a different world. i think this is also why i really love it here. now that i think about it and see a good deal of truth in it, it makes me feel much more attatched to what i am doing here, even mudding.
we also talked a bit about the crack house about 2 blocks away that was burnt down right after Gustav. Before people were evacuated, someone tried and failed to burn it down. But right after, between when people evacuated and were returning, the house was burned. It was one or more peoples way of dealing with the problems in their own neighborhood. potentially sacrificing their freedom to send a message from the community that i was unwelcome. and like all attempts to overthrow something already in place, nothing will work perfectly. in this case i mean that the crack addicts moved into another house a ways away. however the dealing problems and the blatant drug use has dissapeared.
another thing i just would like to recount quickly about the conversation last night was the topic of dissassociation from labor and information. many people want instant gratification, to use a computer or a car, but have no idea how to fix it or any understanding of how it works. thus they have no respect for the "lower class" who make it work for them. im not sure what point that has in this post, but i found it an interesting topic to consider.
tomorrow is mardi gras day! we dont work and the first parade is at 8am. im pretty psyched cause its the zulu parade, which should be awesome. and tonight, im soooo excited to see the drag races up tupelo. its going to be sick.
i feel really good today. really good. im even happy to go back to mudding this afternoon and fix someone else's really horribly shitty work. which i already had done but it was screwed up because someone missed some sheet rocking so then someone else redid my work.. and now i do it again. sweeet. but seeing miss viviana is always nice. she brings us coffee, tea, and hot chocolate every morning and she's very interested in how things work. she tries to be helpful too which is awesome. and last friday she got really excited seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, and she's already thinking about paint colors and tiles. which is the best feeling ever.
