It is now getting to 2 weeks left in project here in St. Bernard, and I cannot believe how fast the time has flown by. It only seems like yesterday we were a bunch of greenhorn Ameri-Babies (Jen's term, not mine, lol) who didn't know Los Islenos from Judge Perez Dr. We're now spike-seasoned veterans now, almost ready for our marathon drive back to the Point and our sophomore spike.
The time is coming up soon when I will have to say goodbye to my favorite city in the world for the second time in less than a year. It does make me pause for a minute and think of all the good times I have had here, both in college and these past weeks.
I have grown to love NOLA since Katrina assualted it nearly 5 years ago, and it has nestled a special place in my heart ever since. It is a palce which I could talk of for hours on end and never really get tired of it. Most of my team had never been to the Big Easy and my favorite thing this round has been seeing their (and other Corps Members) reactions to New Orleans and seeing some of them falling in love with the city, slowly, but indeed surely.
Although I myself came into this project knowing quite a bit about the city, I still have been learning tremendously about St. Bernard Parish, which though a 5 minute drive from NOLA proper, is a world apart in history and culture. It has been my distinct pleasure in the past few weeks to get to know Mr. Bill Hyland, the St. Bernard Parish Historian. He seems to know everything you would want (and possibly not want) to know about St. Bernard, and is quite the storyteller.
Stories. That is probably the most important part of this project so far. People telling stories about everything. How the past Parish President goosed President Bush when he came to visit St. Bernard. How one cemetery lost 21 tombs from the flooding and they ended up in peoples backyards. How one man's home lifted up off of his foundation, spun around 180 degrees, and set back down. How a man and his neighbor were leaving their flooded neighborhood at night and passed an aligator coming into their neighborhood. How many concrete slabs all along our street at Camp Hope are silent memorials and testimonies to the devastation a hurricane causes. Stories. All of them.
Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans
I miss it both night and day
I know that its wrong...this feeling is getting stronger
The longer, I stay away
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