Partially Cloudy
Flying into New Orleans, I wondered what the big deal was.
When I board a plane, I sit down and I start to do something productive like read a book or write a letter. Today, my goal was to put the final touches on a few mapping files. I starting doing some work, and then became distracted by what was going on around me. I’d noticed it as I walked towards the back of the plane to my seat, but it didn’t hit me until I’d been sitting for nearly 10 minutes. I was the only one on the plane not going home. All around me stranger was talking to stranger, about damage, about homes, about water, about rot, about wind, about lost/dead pets, about how they were lucky to make it out the way they did. There was also talk about how prepared the government and organizations were getting for Rita and Galveston. Talk about how it was too late New Orleans. Eventually, the talk quieted down and a somber silence filled the void.
I began to try to be productive, working on those maps, but like I tend to do, I fell asleep. I woke up as we started our descent into New Orleans with calm skies. Peering out the window, I quickly picked up that we were tracing the Mississippi, flying south, over a land of some scrubby trees, with a few towns scattered about. This eventually gave way to something I hadn’t seen before: bayou.
The bayou is beautiful from above. Similar, in some weird way, to a giant, ethereal elk wallow. Don’t ask me to explain that but that’s what I thought it all looked like. I didn’t take a picture though, so pretend.
Now on to more important matters. After getting picked up from the airport by the Global Map Aid team, it was quickly decided that I should rent a car. I was anticipating renting a car for one week, not for two, but luckily I got a decent deal over the internet, via a phone call to Oscar, as I also talked to the counter agent. Advice: never walk up to the counter and rent a car. If you’re in the lobby, call the 800 number or hit up their website. That’s a tangent though. Any of you that watch the media over this whole Katrina thing, don’t trust all you read. For example, The Causeway, one of the major routes across Lake Pontchartrain, and one of the weirdest driving experiences I’ve had, did not collapse. After a long drive, we ended up in Slidell, a community which we’ve been mapping over the past week.
Before I arrived, my colleagues picked up 10,000 copies of our Slidell map, fresh from the printer – we were to spend the afternoon distributing the maps to aid organizations, shelters, and community officials. Timing wasn’t on our side, amongst other more complicated issues. First, the long arms of a fat hurricane were crossing over head, and beginning to dump buckets of rain. The aid distribution sites are all outside, sometimes with some wimpy tents and shelters. The workers, well, they are stuck out there in it all, heat or rain. Today was rain, and the rain was not pleasing the workers. Second, many aid organizations are already packing up and leaving, in order to follow Hurricane Rita. We’ve put these organizations on our map, and they told us they wanted to pass out copies of our maps. Third, it’s quite obvious that many aid workers are getting fatigued, run thin through all the help they are giving and the havoc they’ve seen. Patience is short, and tempers are everywhere. It took more effort than we were expecting, but we passed out all 10,000 of our maps.
To celebrate, we got po’boys. I like myself some shrimp po’boy. The first place we tried to get dinner, a crab shack, was the only one in the area still open – all the other establishments were flooded out. This place, however, was out of seafood, so we went to a joint the proprietor recommended. It’s interesting to be in a situation where one can evaluate the human spirit from an external viewpoint. My experience has been limited, but no one has given up. From the woman digging through wet clothing in an abandoned aid center, to the owner of the po’boy joint refusing to charge tax. People find ways. And I found my first po’boy.
But now, I am disparate for sleep. As you may have guessed, I got none last night. In addition, tomorrow is going to be a tough day, as we’re headed out to some of the hardest hit areas, out towards Gulfport. These towns were right on the shore, and got nailed with a fifteen foot storm surge. Not much is left, but we’re going to map it.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you about the neighborhoods of gutted houses we drove through today. And we didn’t see the part of Slidell that was hit hard.
When I board a plane, I sit down and I start to do something productive like read a book or write a letter. Today, my goal was to put the final touches on a few mapping files. I starting doing some work, and then became distracted by what was going on around me. I’d noticed it as I walked towards the back of the plane to my seat, but it didn’t hit me until I’d been sitting for nearly 10 minutes. I was the only one on the plane not going home. All around me stranger was talking to stranger, about damage, about homes, about water, about rot, about wind, about lost/dead pets, about how they were lucky to make it out the way they did. There was also talk about how prepared the government and organizations were getting for Rita and Galveston. Talk about how it was too late New Orleans. Eventually, the talk quieted down and a somber silence filled the void.
I began to try to be productive, working on those maps, but like I tend to do, I fell asleep. I woke up as we started our descent into New Orleans with calm skies. Peering out the window, I quickly picked up that we were tracing the Mississippi, flying south, over a land of some scrubby trees, with a few towns scattered about. This eventually gave way to something I hadn’t seen before: bayou.
The bayou is beautiful from above. Similar, in some weird way, to a giant, ethereal elk wallow. Don’t ask me to explain that but that’s what I thought it all looked like. I didn’t take a picture though, so pretend.
Now on to more important matters. After getting picked up from the airport by the Global Map Aid team, it was quickly decided that I should rent a car. I was anticipating renting a car for one week, not for two, but luckily I got a decent deal over the internet, via a phone call to Oscar, as I also talked to the counter agent. Advice: never walk up to the counter and rent a car. If you’re in the lobby, call the 800 number or hit up their website. That’s a tangent though. Any of you that watch the media over this whole Katrina thing, don’t trust all you read. For example, The Causeway, one of the major routes across Lake Pontchartrain, and one of the weirdest driving experiences I’ve had, did not collapse. After a long drive, we ended up in Slidell, a community which we’ve been mapping over the past week.
Before I arrived, my colleagues picked up 10,000 copies of our Slidell map, fresh from the printer – we were to spend the afternoon distributing the maps to aid organizations, shelters, and community officials. Timing wasn’t on our side, amongst other more complicated issues. First, the long arms of a fat hurricane were crossing over head, and beginning to dump buckets of rain. The aid distribution sites are all outside, sometimes with some wimpy tents and shelters. The workers, well, they are stuck out there in it all, heat or rain. Today was rain, and the rain was not pleasing the workers. Second, many aid organizations are already packing up and leaving, in order to follow Hurricane Rita. We’ve put these organizations on our map, and they told us they wanted to pass out copies of our maps. Third, it’s quite obvious that many aid workers are getting fatigued, run thin through all the help they are giving and the havoc they’ve seen. Patience is short, and tempers are everywhere. It took more effort than we were expecting, but we passed out all 10,000 of our maps.
To celebrate, we got po’boys. I like myself some shrimp po’boy. The first place we tried to get dinner, a crab shack, was the only one in the area still open – all the other establishments were flooded out. This place, however, was out of seafood, so we went to a joint the proprietor recommended. It’s interesting to be in a situation where one can evaluate the human spirit from an external viewpoint. My experience has been limited, but no one has given up. From the woman digging through wet clothing in an abandoned aid center, to the owner of the po’boy joint refusing to charge tax. People find ways. And I found my first po’boy.
But now, I am disparate for sleep. As you may have guessed, I got none last night. In addition, tomorrow is going to be a tough day, as we’re headed out to some of the hardest hit areas, out towards Gulfport. These towns were right on the shore, and got nailed with a fifteen foot storm surge. Not much is left, but we’re going to map it.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you about the neighborhoods of gutted houses we drove through today. And we didn’t see the part of Slidell that was hit hard.
posted by B at
12:02 AM
