Getting to Know New Orleans

At the time of this writing, New Orleans has in many ways shrunk to its 1878 borders. It was always a manageable size (only about 7 miles long), and if you didn't count the unusual directions and the nearly impossible-to-pronounce street names, it was a very user-friendly city, with most of what the average tourist would want to see concentrated in a few areas. As it happens, those areas were the least damaged by Katrina and the flooding aftermath. Aerial maps of the flooded sections show a thin sliver of dry running alongside the river, with other little pockets here and there, nearly all corresponding to the best-known districts. While the city still debates about rebuilding plans, those neighborhoods are the heart of revitalization for the city, a city that currently looks like a small funky town.

The greatest damage occurred from the post-Katrina flooding; the storm itself was just enough off-center so that the city in many parts experienced less damage than might be expected. The average tourist could confine him- or herself to certain areas (truth be told, the only areas the average tourist went to in the first place) and barely know a disaster ever occurred, much less one of this magnitude. However, we encourage you to take the time to tour some of the devastated areas -- it's the only way to even begin to comprehend the extent of what happened and what will be needed in the future. Further, while neighborhoods such as the Lower 9th Ward and the Treme were not part of the regular tourist routes, the city owes much of its heart and soul to the inhabitants and history of same. While the survival of the French Quarter and Garden District should be celebrated, the future of these neighborhoods must not be neglected if New Orleans is to flourish fully again.

The major breaches in the levee system happened at the 17th Street Canal (at the rough border between Orleans and Jefferson Parish), the London Street Canal (between City Park and Elysian Fields Ave.) and the Inner Harbor Navigation Canal, known locally as the Industrial Street Canal, the border between the 9th and the Lower 9th Wards. The waters of Lake Pontchartrain rushed in until the more or less bowl-shaped city became a level extension of the lake itself. Because of the varying levels of higher ground, the depth of flooding sometimes varied from block to block, with the result that one stretch might have been subjected to no more than a foot or so in the street, while just a few blocks away, the water was as deep as 6 feet. The closer one gets to the lake, the more serious the flooding, particularly north (or lakeside) of St. Claude Avenue and Claiborne Avenue in the 9th and Lower 9th Wards (the now-iconic photo of the swamped Circle Foods store was taken at the corner of Claiborne and St. Bernard Ave., looking under the 10 freeway), and north (lakeside) of the 610 in Lakeview and Gentilly in that neighborhood. Disconcertingly, if buildings were perched on a patch of high ground, some may have avoided serious damage while neighborhoods such as the Broadmoor section of Mid-City, far from a lakeshore, suffered deep flooding.

Though much may have changed by the time you read this, in terms of bulldozing and rebuilding, driving through some of the flooded areas can be deceptive. If an area took on only a few feet of water, the buildings may not show many signs of damage, just the telltale brown water line revealing the level at which the floodwaters sat (it likely initially flooded even higher, but there was a drop in the water level after the storm surge passed), or cryptic florescent spray-painted symbols, indicating a search was done of the premises and what was found within -- the graffiti of disaster. By mid-2007, most of the flood lines and spray painted marks had been either painted over or faded away, but some are still visible. Mid-City, with its 4 to 6 feet of water, has some parts that still seem ghostly abandoned, but overall is making a steady comeback. Even badly flooded residential Lakeview can appear normal -- unless, that is, you were to enter one of the houses that sat for weeks under as much as 12 feet of water. Within these family homes, furniture was tossed about like the toys of a disgruntled giant child, and every exposed inch was sometimes covered in mold. Most of these houses are now gutted. As reconstruction continues, throughout the city you are still likely to see piles of trash in front of many buildings, as ruined interiors are ripped out, down to the studs, in an attempt to salvage a structure.

And all of that pales compared to the utter devastation of the Lower 9th Ward, where houses were pushed into each other, as if kicked about, or in many cases, reduced to indistinguishable piles of lumber and rubble. Those piles sat for a disgracefully long time, but by summer 2007, most of them had been bulldozed, reducing this once complex neighborhood to a series of vacant lots. Here and there is the occasional brand new house, as an intrepid owner takes a stand in isolation.

So what should you see? Whatever you like. New Orleans is a very user-friendly city -- that is, if you don't count the unusual directions, tangled roads, and the nearly impossible-to-pronounce street names. (More on that later.) Some find spending the entire time they're in New Orleans in a haze of delightful decadence a perfectly acceptable way to enjoy a trip. Others may feel they need to bear witness to the destruction. This chapter contains some of the ins and outs of New Orleans navigation and gives you some local sources to contact for specialized information.

How to Make Like the Locals Do

We are so proud of you. Not for you the "I went to New Orleans but I never got off Bourbon Street" refrain. Not for you any old tourist trap, or maybe even any other tourist. You want to make like the locals do. Having said that, by and large this book avoids tourist traps, and while it won't help you avoid tourists, it does feature many a spot that has prompted many a local to say, "You've got that place in there?! No one knows about that!" (Not to blow our own horn or anything.) But here are a few more residents-only suggestions, plus a few specific venues, featured elsewhere in this guide, that have their own traditional following. Be aware that making like a local sometimes means heading into areas that will prompt your cabdriver (yes, take a cab if you don't have your own car) to shake his or her head about your foolhardy behavior. Ignore them, though do please be cautious. Here, in no particular order:

Po' Boys at Gene's -- This is an authentic dive, which, for New Orleans, is about as authentic as it gets. It may be a little too local for you, so just plan to get food to go (it's not really eat-in, anyway). Much of the roof was ripped away by Katrina, and they flooded, but a year later, they had bravely reopened. All you get at Gene's are po' boys, but oh, that's all you need. Particularly when the po' boy is the classic house-made Creole hot sausage and cheese (American cheese, please!), fully dressed. Divine. Gene's also offers a roast beef po' boy and a hamburger, but that's it for menu options. No chips, no dessert. One drink comes with your generously sized sandwich. $5 total. Don't you feel local already? Gene's Po-Boys is at 1040 Elysian Fields.

Fried Chicken at McHardy's -- When beloved friends of ours married, they served fried chicken from McHardy's, 1458 N. Broad St., at their wedding reception. And you know what? No fancy-pants expensive, catered extravaganza had better food. It's some of the best fried chicken we've ever eaten -- moist, tender, slightly crispy skin, perfectly seasoned, and only 50¢ a piece).

A Real Gospel Brunch -- Speaking of church, forget the so-called "Gospel Brunch" at the House of Blues. Go see the real thing in a real place of worship, like the Guiding Light Missionary Baptist Church, 2012 Washington Ave. (tel. 504/891-7654). It's humble, but it's right and true, and the singing of the choir (not to mention the sometimes fiery preaching) is what it's all about. And boy, do they have things to sing about these days. You may well be the only nonparishioner there, but the congregation is always welcoming. Worship begins at 7am on Sunday, but you don't need to be there before 8:30am. Remember to put some of those dollars you saved by not going to the HOB into the collection plate, but also note that said plate is passed early and often, so pace your giving.

For a different musical religious experience, take in Sunday 10am mass at historic St. Augustine's. Located in the heart of the Treme, and the home church for many a famous local musician -- Sidney Bechet was a parishioner -- St. Augustine's holds frequent jazz masses, with a number of local high profile musicians participating. But even the regular weekly masses are celebrated with New Orleans-related music and cultural color. Call ahead for details, especially to see if charismatic former pastor Fr. LeDoux is making a rare appearance in the pulpit. St. Augustine's is at 1210 Gov. Nichols St. (tel. 504/525-5934; www.staugustinecatholicchurch-neworleans.org.)

Crescent City Farmers Markets -- This is the collective name for the weekly produce (and other foodstuffs) wonderlands in various city locales. It's the place to commune with local gourmands. You may not want to cart home fresh produce, though sampling in season is always a pleasure, but you can bring home some powerful Creole cream cheese, fresh breads and biscuits, and other regional treats. Local chefs do demonstrations (crawfish and shrimp quesadillas!), and gourmet snacks are on sale as well. The markets are held on Tuesday from 9am to 1pm in the Uptown Square parking lot at 200 Broadway and Saturday from 8am to noon at 700 Magazine St. For more info, go to www.crescentcityfarmersmarket.org.

Snake & Jake's Xmas Club Lounge -- Tiny. Cramped. Full of Christmas twinkle lights and locals drinking and some out-of-towners, also drinking, because they consider it their own local lounge when they come to town.

Kermit Ruffins & the Barbecue Swingers -- Every Thursday night, Kermit Ruffins, he of the smooth trumpet and gravelly, Satchmo-inspired voice, plays at Vaughan's Lounge. Because this is his home turf, he feels much freer here, and his sets veer away from tourist-pleasing, conservative performances to looser repertoires. And because his band is called the Barbeque Swingers, and because he loves to cook, he often makes free barbecues before the shows.

Super Sunday -- All year long the Mardi Gras Indians work on their elaborate suits of hand-sewn beaded mosaics and feathers, creating concoctions that would make even over-the-top designer Bob Mackie burst into tears of helpless envy. And once a year they meet on their home turfs to compete, with chants, drums, and costumes, to prove once and for all which tribe is the most glorious and who is the prettiest. All that work for nothing but honor, pride, and beauty. Watching them parade and square off is one of the great sights of New Orleans, and hardly anyone goes. Perhaps that's because of the location (the Uptown Indians start and end at the corner of Washington Ave. and LaSalle St.; the Mid-City tribes start around Bayou St. John and Orleans Ave.; in both cases, just drive around looking for feathers and listening for drums); perhaps it's because the Indians are supposed to parade on the Sunday closest to St. Joseph's Day (Mar 19), but that's only if the weather is good (rain and wind are hard on feathers: "Ever seen a wet chicken?" one Indian pointed out) and if the Indians feel like it. We don't know what will happen to this tradition, because the Indians were from the neighborhoods worst hit by the flood, so whoever does return is all the more worth celebrating. Take your chances because it's a sight you won't see anywhere else.