Recently we had a “we might have to leave New Orleans” scare. This is a well-known fright among the populous. It’s when you have to depart the city for things like work, education, your family, or other responsibilities. We shudder at the prospect. What do you mean, leave? Can you imagine living your whole life in the Land of Oz and then being told you have to move to Kansas? No more midgets singing and dancing in the streets? No more technicolor and flying monkeys? No more lounging about in poppy fields? Only a life of flat sepia farm drudgery to look forward to?!
Our scare was due to employment, but things worked out at the last minute, and for now we get to stay. I respect that some people are cool with waiting tables or driving cabs with their PhDs in order to live here, but it’s not for me. As much as I love it, I would leave it in order to provide a certain standard of living for myself and my family. I’m happy being middle class, and living at the poverty level when I don’t have to (just so I can stay in Nola) is not acceptable to me.
It’s difficult to explain the agony of this decision to our fellow Americans too. They’re not as attached to their hometowns as New Orleanians are. I have several friends who’ve wandered here over the years telling tales of soulless places, devoid of humor, passion and life. Humanoids with robotic ambitions, ambivalent to the pleasures and pace of a fulfilling existence. Well, I for one am glad we were founded by the laid back French Catholics because clearly having uptight Protestants for founding fathers is a self-flagellating misery you never overcome. Of course that doesn’t explain everything. But when it comes to experiencing life, Nola feels more like the Caribbean than the States. And I think that’s why we’re so damned attached to it. When you’re raised to think life is to be savored, not conquered, it’s hard to jump into the rat race with vicious competitors. I mean, half the people I know in New Orleans don’t go back to work after lunch on a Friday because they ran into a friend at the restaurant’s bar and… just kinda stayed there.
There is something to be said for feeling “at home” and participating in a community. Settling, putting down roots for the duration. Being a part of something smaller, and thereby making a bigger difference. Not only was I born here, but I have more roots here than the oak tree busting through my sidewalk. To leave would be very hard, but I would do it (I’ve done it before when I had to, but that’s another story). I could live in sepia again, but I know there would always be that nagging feeling. And I’d spend the rest of my life clicking my confining black boots together, hoping to find a way back home… and into my comfy ruby slippers.
{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
*tear
“Can you imagine living your whole life in the Land of Oz and then being told you have to move to Kansas?”
This.
This just made me smile REAL big . ;)
See you crazy kids this weekend!
Wow. What a great post. You described it perfectly, and that’s coming from someone who’s only lived here for 11 years as opposed to being a native. Some days, I hate it and can’t wait to get out of here. That usually lasts…about five minutes…and then I remember what it’s like to live in those other places. Where the first question anyone asks you is “So, what do you do?” Have you ever noticed how that question usually comes up in New Orleans only after you’ve run out of other things to talk about?
years ago when my husband (deceased) finished his residency at Charity we were faced with the dreaded decision to stay or leave. it came down to NOLA or Shreveport. the hospital in Shreveport would pay twice as much as the NOLA job offer – and we had 2 small babies. our debt was out of sight, and i was in school trying to finish up my Masters.
New Orleans won out. we scrapped and we made due for years there after.
(we still ate and drank well of course..lol)
those were some of the happiest times of my life. :)
nice post chica, you made me think back to a time that i keep safe in my heart.
I’m reading this from Cincinnati. You may easily infer the rest.
@ALM: Glad to hear it happens to non-natives too. Clearly its a matter of “getting” life here or not – no blood ties necessary :-)
@termite: good comment, and truly bittersweet. made me both smile and sigh.
@Loki: I know where ya hawt’s at dawlin’ ;-)