Moot Thoughts & Musings

A walk in the Quarter. Probably the most famous feature of the New Orleans cityscape is the French Quarter, or referred to simply as "the Quarter". I never go down there. There's really not much to do except to eat and shop at exorbitant prices. Sometimes there are festivals, and in the middle of the night there is a lot of music, but lack of resources also prohibits me from going down there. Every once in a while, though, a friend will come to town, and we'll go for a saunter. Pausing in all the antique shops and art galleries makes for an entertaining afternoon. Yesterday I had to go to the downtown, main branch of my bank to get a cheque in Euro as deposit for my seminar. Since I hate the thought of parking, I rode the streetcar in, a friend came, and we made an afternoon of it.

For tromping through the Quarter, I usually choose Royal Street, known as St. Charles on the other side of Canal. Bourbon Street is just plain gross. It stinks of vomit and cheap beer 24/7. Though I did pass a crepe stand spotting a pyramid of Nutella jars on the corner of one of the initial blocks, something to keep in mind. It gets on my nerves how in the middle of the day tourists go staggering down Bourbon Street clinging to their neon plastic cups drunk beyond comprehension. (Open container laws don't apply if you have a plastic cup.) I don't understand why they feel like they have to be totally wasted while they're in New Orleans when there is so much other stuff that makes this city wonderful.* One of those things being Royal Street, after sauntering down several blocks, the general hum of tourists and pedestrians quieted down some. And I did suckered up my pride and took a picture of the hanging gardens of New Orleans. This view is on the list of really touristy things to take a picture of. (Streetcar being thing #1 of touristy thing to take a picture of.) It really is lovely walking under the stories of lush balconies.

Part of why I like the Quarter is the history. (No kidding!) We come across part of what defines New Orleans, which is its Catholic heritage. This whole state is more Catholic than anywhere I ever have lived. Part of the tradition includes the presence of the Ursuline nuns. They came from France in the early days of the city to take care of the poor and were steadfast in their service even through some very trying times for the early colony. Eventually they formed a school for girls, which still exists. This school accepted all girls who needed help, from all races or mix of races, slave or free. The convent and school provided a haven to so many. Wealthy parents sent their daughters to the Ursuline nuns where they would receive a safe education within the cloistered walls, creating an incredibly diverse student body of young women. The old Ursuline convent and archbishop seat is in the Quarter off of Chartres Street (that would be pronounced "Charter").

Attached to the old convent is a small cathedral (sorry! forget which one!). Where, in case you were looking, you can find the way to heaven. The sign says "here is the house of God and the gate of heaven". Actually, it's kind of interesting that that particular sign was in the same place as the archbishop seat. It is traditionally the bishop of Rome, i.e. the pope, who hold the keys to the gate of heaven, given to him by Peter. So I guess there is some connection. (sorry, I wish I knew more.)

Why does this city have a Catholic heritage? Because of the French, of course! Though French is not as widely spoken here as it is in the bayou, there is definitely a French presence in the city, evidenced by the untranslated request: "Please do not park in front of this gate." As a side note, there is also an uncomparable French bakery on Magazine Street uptown, so if you ever get hankering for a real, true baguette or pain au chocolat, come on down and visit.

The last of our adventures took us to the flea market. Pretty tacky stuff, though some pretty jewelry, and definitely moments of entertainment value. Just in case you were thinking about stealing from this silver ring vendor, I would certainly think twice!

So a pleasant afternoon was spent in the Quarter. Sore feet carried us to the streetcar (NOT the trolley), and we were whisked home, pitying the poor tourists who had to tour the Garden District in the rain.

*It's like the time when we went to Bermuda. The whole cruise ship headed for the beach. The sole purpose of their taking the cruise was to get as much sun as possible. I will grant that the beaches in Bermuda are fantastic, and I had a wonderful time swimming and sailing and "snorkeling", but what a lot of people missed was that Bermuda was one of the first European colonies in the colonial era (very early 17th c). There was a TON of history to be discovered on that island. It was extremely fascinating. Yet, when we went to tour a fort or something, we would be the only ones there. But I will admit that I've found myself to be a little bit more fanatical about such things than the general populace.