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papermoth-bird-blog · 6 years

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New Orleans: Clowns & more curious things.

I’ve always thought the best way to really learn a city is to walk until you can’t walk anymore, and then, take the transit. I know I have a tendency to romanticize things, but New Orleans is feeding this reciprocally. I mean, it’s definitely more dangerous than the cities I’ve spend time in before, but it also has an air about it that draws you in. This is the start of Carnival season & many of the houses are decorated with beads and Banners already. Some even have floats parked in their backyards (7th ward). King cake is front & center in terms of deserts. It’s the most sugary thing I’ve ever tasted- crunchy, gooey, buttery- like candy-cake. Almost felt like something a 7 year old would make if left to their own devices in the kitchen. Not usually my style at all, but it was worth it for saying I have. Other local foodie things that I liked a lot more were Swamp pop (particularly the Satsuma one) & Voodoo chips- which Asa and Leon definitely got me hooked on. Apparently you can get Voodoo chips everywhere in the states- but it’s definitely a Cajun thing, so I’m glad I tried them here first.

New Orleans is as bright & filled with life, as it is dark & full of death. The houses are colourful and decorated, but many of them still have the spray paint markings left on them during the post-hurricaine search. For every fun-feathery mask, there is a decapitated Crocodile head. For every person playing jazz, there is a person behind a curtain reading palms, or tea leaves, or tarot cards or crystal balls, or what have you.

Yesterday, I decided to get my palm read... because when in Rome. And let’s be honest, the reason I’m here in the first place is for similarly mysteriously-provoked reasons. I decided to go to Bottom of the Cup, which is one of the more established fortune-telling joints- and honestly, you probably pay a premium for that too. I was fine with it though, cause I’ve been pretty good so far about staying on the low end of the budget. So I’m sitting in the cafe for a good 20 minutes patiently with my camomile tea, when my reader rushes my me & kinda grumbles for me to come in. It was a man, which I didn’t realize would be strange for me- but I don’t think I’ve every had my fortune told by a man before. He honestly looked like something out of Tim Burton sketch book. Tall, thin, austere-looking. He was wearing black skinny jeans, rolled above the ankle with shiny black boots. He also had on a peacoat that had the collar popped up beside his ears- which he kept on, even when inside, because everyone is freaking out about the “cold” in NOLA right now (it’s 8 degrees.. which is unseasonable cold here, but by comparison, it’s fine). He didn’t ask me much, but my Sign, which is Aries. He told me I didn’t have typical Fire hands- actually more Watery (but I had fire fingers apparently). Which is funnny, because most people, when guessing think I am a Pisces through&through. Honestly, I thought what he told me was pretty accurate- that I would be unhappy to settle doing one thing for too long, that I tend to have really deep-genuine connections that are slightly ephemeral by nature (because it would take a lot for me to settle down with one person). Something about a triple life-line? anyways. Anyways, what was more interesting, was (maybe cause of my broken fate line?) he brought up that he really think I should do DEATH MEDITATION. I kept a pretty good poker face, but I was all WTF IS THAT. Basically he wants me to sit there & visualize my body decaying & sinking into the ground- apparently this will both help with any anxiety I feel (dunno bout that) & open me up to receiving messages from spirits. Of course, I’m thinking of the whole “go to new orleans to learn about death” thing. So might have to give that a shot soon. I have a recording of it too-- so for any of my close friends- we can listen to it together (Katie & Mare... I know y’all might want to). Charlie also mentioned I should be careful with my manifestation, because I’m very very good at it & I should use it more sparingly. Which I again, kinda poker-faced, because That has been another huge thing that has come up in my life more recently- I am really good at manifesting exactly what I’m seeking. Even freaky, off-the-beaten path type stuff... stlll looking for a witch for a place that has no seasons though, Mare. (As another tangent, I have this thing where I test out if I can manifest certain songs as I’m walking though areas where the radio is playing. So far, fleetwood mac, rising appalachia & bob dylan have alllll met me there- which sure, could be co-incidence, could be magic???)

This, however wasn’t the most novel, or most curious thing I’ve been up to so far--- which has to be Clownless. Which, as you may remember from my previous post, is the all-clown cast adaptation of the 90s classic film ‘Clueless’. It was “staged” in the Marigny, in a very DIY type-theatre in what was either an old warehouse, or a large garage. The front was open & held a art show with works featuring clowns. Bright ones, Macabre ones, all sorts. Many people were dressed as clowns too- which made Asa wish that we had had time to dress-up before hand too (alas, we were at Sarah-Jane’s art show, which would have definitely of been less-appropriate). We were all jammed in the car tho, which meant we definitely looked like clowns as we all tumbled out of the front seat when we pulled up to the theatre. The play itself was a host for crude, queer, self aware comedy. It was definitely funny, but a little “sticky” at times. Overall, so glad I went, cause I mean, when else am I going to get that opportunity again?! It is funny how often clowns are coming up for me on this trip so far- I really don’t think the world is usually so clown-y. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s the Zeitgeist.

After the show, we all went back to the house and got into a big discussion about how odd Louisiana is as a place. I mean, it has a lot of influences- French, Spanish, English, American & the huge legacy the Slave trade has left on the place. The liquor laws were the fist thing. (I already talked about that though). Asa started to tell me about this strange tradition here called “Prison Rodeos” which is as barbaric and horrifying as you can imagine. It’s like modern day gladiator trials. Prisoners can win money by staying in a chair for the longest amount of time while a bull attacks them, and other “fun” stuff like that. And people go to these things. In droves. On the bright side, they also have prisoner craft-market things that the prisoners can sell their woodworkings, or leather-workings, or what have you. Asa showed me the really beautiful ostrich wallet & the really odd “Highwater dragon” sculpture that he got when he went. The fact that there are more people in the prison system today than were ever slaves really jumps out to me here. It’s “out of sight, out of mind” though, and so it isn’t really being thought of as the HUGE issue it really is. It’s been a super humbling experience in that way.

Though not as horrifying (?) I was also told about other traditions that come from the swamp- including a certain kind of roast that I now forget the name of. But basically, it’s a roasted hog, stuffed with a racoon, stuffed with a Nutria (Which is a giant, swamp dwelling, dog-sized rat). And apparently this is an actual tradition. I’m not one to judge, but I sure am glad I am a vegetarian & have a valid cop-out for indulging in that one.

Another tradition, which is far more familiar to me is ‘Fais Do-Do’. Which is the Lousianan answer to a Ceilidh. These fiddle parties, however more likely take place in a neighbourhood street, more so than a kitchen (probably cause of the heat). I’ve yet to go to one, but I’m working on manifesting one while I’m here still.

In the 7th especially, I’ve found a lot of people have been greating me with “I hope you are staying warm.” Which I’ve just smiled about because, in Canada, this is late summer/ early fall kind of weather (which is kind of my favourite). I mean, there are still flowers in bloom here! Full blown blooming Magnolias. Too be fair, it is unseasonable cold here. A couple of days ago it was 8 degrees! Which happened to have been the same temperature it was in Halifax that day (but okay, it was unseasonably warm there that day). Yeah, I do wish that I was experiencing the normal 18-degree “winter” they have usually, but it’s definetly been okay with me. The only thing being, the houses and buildings aren’t entirely equiped for weather like this. The floors are tiled, ceilings really tall- designed to keep the house as cool as possible, which is great, except on days like these when they are then cooler than even the outside temperatures.

If this was winter, I really started to wonder what summer was like over here. I mean, I can only imagine it being a little bit unbareable. Asa’s friend Satori described New Orleans as “Seasonally Biblical” in reference to not only the heat/humidity, but also the awe-striking influx of insects (including, termits & other kinds of swamp bugs). Apparently there is pretty much a mass exodus from the city, for those that can afford to leave.

I love how people dress down here too. A lot of the people in the Bywater dress super gothic (and for that I am happy). Lace, black, pin-stripes- It’s a style Jack White would be pleased with. Many of the folks are also wearing fur in this weather- very 1920s vibes, but with slightly weirder & wilder cuts/colours. On my first day I even saw a man dressed up like a full voodoo priest (not even in a hokey way). He was just casually sitting on Elysian-Feilds, eating an ice cream bar. It was kinda glorious.

Every morning, I’ve been the first to wake, which has kind of been nice. I usually eat my breakfast in the backyard with the cat & listen to the mardi gras beads lining the fence blowing in the wind. I then journal a little & think of all my gratitudes. It’s super peaceful & grounding. Missing the hali-fam rituals though. Overall though, I’m quite enjoying the amount of alone time I’m getting. Travelling alone so far, as been super rewarding. I feel braver & confident & more autonomous than ever. The only down side, I’ve discovered so far, is that you have to ask strangers if you still have powdered sugar on your face apres-beignets.

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