Thoughts and Observations by an “Outsider”

by Marion Wieser

From October 14th till October 29th, I visited New Orleans and my host mom Diane from the 2003 Austria Student Program. Back then, Diane made me feel at home in her house instantly, her hospitality and kindness made me really feel welcomed and we stayed in contact ever since. So, when coming to the US in July 2006, I already planned to visit her in New Orleans. I knew from her e-mails and from TV and internet that her house in Gentilly was flooded and severely damaged when the levees broke on August 29th, 2006. The water in Diane’s neighbourhood stood seven feet high.

Marion Wieser In front of the trailer

The storm and the levee breaches changed the lives of so many people in New Orleans as it changed the live of my host mom. No house, no job, together with personal losses – people here had experienced things nobody should ever have to go through. The last year was so challenging for everybody in the city!
The storm produced a new reality in New Orleans, a city I got to know and love in 2003 as the city of Mardi Gras Indians and parades, Jazz, Blues and Soul music and delicious food. Now I came back to a city, too dark and too silent at night, with devastated neighborhoods, still deserted streets, gutted and empty houses, brown waterline marks on the buildings, blue roofs – and white FEMA-trailers.
But I noticed soon, that this was still New Orleans, the Big Easy, the Cresecent City, the city where people know the joy of living.

The people who came and still come back to their city are true New Orleanians, every day new restaurants and stores are back in business, the French Quarter is filling with tourists again, musicians are playing in the bars and clubs again, the Saints are back in town (doing amazingly well, I might add here – Who dat? Geaux Saints!) and the food is as good as it has always been.

Sitting in the Riverfront Park and overlooking the Mississippi, walking through the French Quarter, listening to good musicians in one of the many clubs or enjoying an order of beignets at Café du Monde is still so inspiring and charming to me.

The most impressive impact though comes from people like Diane, who are working very hard to get their lives back together, to rebuild their houses and their neighborhoods, to make the schools working again, the buses running, the restaurants, gas stations and other businesses opening again and who try to overcome the dramatic changes of their lives and begin with new – post-Katrina- lives.

Outside view.

This strength, determination, spirit and courage is what impressed me most and what I could feel everywhere in the city, especially when talking to people around town, from bus driver Earl to the nice lady in the Nawlins Sport shop on Decatur Street.

Everybody in the city has a special story to tell – mostly a dramatic storm story – and sometimes you can really see in the faces of people what traumatic experiences they must have endured, since there is this lost look and sad smile. But I never heard anybody really complain about their situation! Well, there sure is this special kind of New Orleans humor with jokes about FEMA, the government and the Army Corps of Engineers, and some people are unquestionably angry and frustrated, but there is no moaning and groaning going on. Everybody tries to move on.

During my stay, I got a small glimpse of what it means to live this new post-Katrina reality in New Orleans, since Diane showed the same hospitality and kindness toward me as in 2003 and let me stay with her, sharing with me her already small space in the FEMA-trailer on her property in the Marigny Street.

Sleeping corner


Living in such a FEMA-trailer for months is a real challenge for someone whose life was torn apart when the levee broke. The space is much reduced – obviously – and life reduces itself to necessary things and practical solutions. There is no room for big decorations, pictures on the walls, flower vases or a hi-fi system – things you would normally find in nearly every home and things which all those living in trailers lost.

There is everything you need for sleeping, eating and similar basic every day needs: beds, a sink, a refrigerator, oven and microwave (really great to make popcorn) as well as a small bathroom with toilet and bathtub, but I still cannot imagine living in such a small place with an entire family!

Half the space of the trailer is filled with paper work and bureaucracy stuff, from bills, to FEMA-letters, insurance, tax forms, bank statements and applications, and whatever else people have to deal with in this post-Katrina world. I’m not sure that even having a degree in public administration would make going through all this stuff any easier!

There are so many uncertainties about insurance and Road Home money, about new building requirements and regulations, application deadlines, procedures and long waiting times! Just to get an interview appointment for the Road Home Program, a government program to fund the rebuilding of homes in Louisiana, takes months. After the application gets through, it takes months just to get an initial interview appointment, and then it takes 30 days for someone from the program to come and inspect the house and other 60 days to reschedule the next meeting with the homeowner. If and when financial aid for affected homeowners will really be available or how much money they will get – nobody knows.

Surrounding neighborhood.

And also if someone has enough money and could begin with rebuilding, the waiting periods for getting electricians, plumbers, roofers and other construction workers are weeks and months as well. Finding the strength to go through this hurdling puts even more emotional pressure and mental strain on everybody.

Meanwhile months if not years pass by and there is no other option for the people but to try making the FEMA-trailers a livable “home” by putting individual notes on it, like the nice Halloween decorations I saw in front of some trailers parked in front of houses.

Some people put flowers in front of their trailers, or lights or a kind of small garden with chairs and a table, or even some small pictures on the walls; mail boxes can be seen again on the streets and the mailman delivers parcels right to the door of the houses – no pick-up at the post office necessary. The garbage is picked up regularly and also the debris people have to put out from their damaged houses on to the streets. All signs of some kind of normalcy, even though different.

But then there are also some day-to-day problems and new experiences connected with living in a FEMA-trailer: clogged toilets (but I have to say here that I was quite impressed to get to know that usually someone from FEMA maintenance comes within six hours to look for the problem!), inspections by FEMA, to see if the trailer is still there (or whatever they want to check), waiting for hot water heating up before taking a shower, and being kind of exposed to all weather. While I was in New Orleans it was raining quite heavily and there were thunderstorms and heavy winds going on – not the best feeling if you are lying in a small bunk bed and you can hear the wind and the rain everywhere.

During the day, roofers, plumbers, mold removal crews and other construction workers coin the streets and the noise testifies that houses are really being fixed and progress is made – even if slowly. Sometimes about ten trucks and cars move up the street and a house gets wrapped up with a sort of plastic tent for a day. As I learned, this technique is called “mold fumigation” and should help to get rid off all the mold in a house without tearing apart all the plaster.

During my stay I generally got to know a bit about house construction, mold removal and rebuilding. For me as European - used to a totally different type of houses - a really new and instructive experience.

Aside from the life in and around a FEMA-trailer there are also the neighborhoods, those small but so important units of society in New Orleans, where people used to know and talk to each other, look out and care for each other, and around which life took place. I don’t know about other neighbourhoods like the Lower Ninth Ward or so, but I got to know a little Diane’s neighborhood.

Already in 2003, people were greeting each other on the street or when driving by, but what I experienced during my stay in October was just amazing and adorable. When walking or jogging around the block, the (sad to say) few people around greeted me like I was an old friend, waved at me and everywhere you could hear a nice and warmly “How you doin’?” – even stopping by for a short small talk came so easily.

That’s what makes me wish so badly that people can return to their neighbourhoods, because that’s what makes New Orleans even more special then it already is. People who lost their houses did not “only” loose all their belongings, but even more incisive – their entire social life: family, friends, neighbors, work colleagues, their church fellows, the school kids from the nearby school, the elderly woman sitting on her front porch all day long, the garbage man who used to come regularly, and many others. That means losing an entire city!

Thinking about this made me realize that we as “outsiders” can only have a slight idea about what this could mean for someone who had to go through all of this – and many are still experiencing it everyday, since so many are still spread all over the country and some neighborhoods are still deserted.

Everyday life in post-Katrina New Orleans is not easy, everything takes more time than before, like finding a gas station to put air in the pick-up tire, calling a restaurant before going there to make sure they are really open, not to talk about getting a good and reliable construction company in a reasonable time period!

But then there are some really good changes as well: During my stay, I rode the no. 55 RTA bus from the French Quarter to the University of New Orleans nearly every day and guess what? The bus was really running punctual! I even missed it three times! This never happened back in 2003. I don’t know about other routes, but the Elysian Fields bus is running great and a compliment is indispensable at this point.

For me, the time I could spend in New Orleans this October was not only a valuable and intensive experience, but also a time of reflection and contemplation about a lot of things.

I will take with me lots of good experiences, like the Voodoo Music Festival, two wonderful concerts of John Bouttée at “d.b.a.”, lots of good food, including at Commander’s Palace, Semolina’s, Fellini’s and other great places, beignets at Café du Monde, ice cream at Brocato’s and po-boys at Zimmer’s, enthusiasm for the Saints (it seams that you cannot be in New Orleans at this point and don’t get involved in football), inspiring walks through the French Quarter and most important: lots of personal encounters with great people and the great spirit of welcome I once again got to feel.

But I will also take with me important thoughts about life itself, about values and priorities, about love and dedication, will and strength - and about passion.
What I want to let everybody – y’all - in or from New Orleans know, is: New Orleans is gonna make it, I believe in you!

Oh, and by the way: I will be back for Thanksgiving! :-)

Marion Wieser