At the start of our Maymester, Andrew explained to our group that we would find many different people here in New Orleans: Creole, Cajun, African American, White Protestant, you name it. He also told us that what we may find could be quite different from our expectations. With the political turmoil in America during the last few years, it is easy to form strong opinions about individuals without even meeting them, which I am admittedly guilty of. But I have learned that the only way we can close this political gap is through genuine kindness – fostering a welcoming environment by treating each other as people first. The Southern hospitality that I've experienced here in New Orleans has been like no other. One may discard these friendly gestures in the name of politics, but wouldn't that be incredibly destructive? In the novel The Moviegoer by Walker Percy, the main character Binx shares that he has experienced this behavior frequently in the South.
“If I had to name a single trait that all these people shared, it is their niceness. Their lives are triumphs of niceness. They like everyone with the warmest and most generous feelings.”
I have felt a warmth here like no other. The best way to describe this is that every interaction feels personal, even with the usual worker-customer relationship. Below are just a few examples of some of the interactions I’ve had.
The owner of Jeaux’s Coffee who gave us beignets!
We were given on-the-house beignets after chatting with the shop’s owner. In the same shop, I was given Mardi Gras coins from a local.
A laundromat owner invited our group to his barbeque for this upcoming Sunday parade.
When I ordered a breakfast burrito at a coffee shop, the store was out of their salsa. This prompted a worker to go into the back and give me his personal salsa that he brings for himself. He told me it was the best he’s ever had, and I couldn’t agree more!
Every individual comes off as if they have all the time in the world when talking to you because they really care about your personal well-being. I think this is beautiful. I found myself slowing down, trying to learn people’s names and stories, and making a conscious effort to pass on the kindness.
I believe that in a world where the media only portrays the negative, it makes the good things seem so, so small. But this is why we need to cling to these moments, that we value life’s simple beauty. As Binx says…
“It is not a bad thing to settle for the Little Way, not the big search for the big happiness but the sad little happiness of drinks and kisses, a good little car and a warm deep thigh.”
People work incredibly hard to strive for some great happiness and relaxation, most often labeled retirement, yet this fosters an “if… then…” mentality, where if I do x,y, and z, then I will be happy. However, when I recall the lovely people that I have encountered, it prompts me to think that not acknowledging these special interactions along the way and rushing to the finish line would mean that one could fail to take in New Orleans’ genie-soul.
“[Genie-soul is] the sense of the place, the savor of the genie-soul of the place which every place has or else it is not a place.”
I believe that if you removed every individual from New Orleans and left it desolate, its genie-soul would not be inexistent but utterly different. It would be dark and empty. When you add the people, it gives this city life. A cup of gumbo would not be so delicious without the cook making it with love. A haunted building would not be known to be haunted without people reviving stories of its supernatural. The hotel we are staying in would simply be some beds in rooms without Kevin warmly greeting me every time I walk out, pausing to ask what I have planned for the day, wishing me well, and causing me to say “I’m going back home,” instead of “I’m going back to the hotel.”
Each interaction I have had here crafts the genie-soul of New Orleans as I see it in my mind. I don’t want to miss out on this simply because I am rushing from place to place.