NEW ORLEANS, HERE WE COME!
The gazebo in Houma next to Jeaux’s Cafe
I was grateful for Grand Isle, but I was ready for the city. Off we go to New Orleans. But first, a stop at Houma for a quick coffee and some beignets at Downtown Jeaux Coffee Cafe. The one word I would use to describe our drive to Houma would be discovery. Bits of Houma made me feel at home. The beignets reminded me of an Armenian fried dough pastry called "ponchik". Right in fron of the cafe, I saw a gazebo! Lorelai, where are you? My favorite comfort show, Gilmore Girls, has a gazebo where many important moments take place, such as (SPOILER ALERT) the main character Lorelai’s long-awaited kiss with Luke. Houma welcomed me with open arms.
After an hour of downtime at the coffee shop, a few of us broke off to venture around the city. Something sinister caught my eye. A graveyard next to a Catholic school. I had to go closer. As we walked by the graveyard we saw a few cars parked on the street, waiting to pick up their kids from school. Parents parked next to a graveyard to pick up their kids. It was a real life paradox.
One of my worst fears is losing a family member. Much to my discomfort, in Louisiana, death was so close to life. Huge cemeteries right next to schools, houses, shopping places. It was almost like death didn’t have a negative connotation. This was my first introduction to gothic southern Louisiana, a prelude to the king of everything gothic, New Orleans.
“Over and over I dreamed that he was at the head of the steps and I was holding his arm, talking kindly to him, urging him back into the bedroom, telling him gently that I did believe him, that he must pray for me to have faith.”
Graveyard next to St. Francis De Sales Cathedral School in Houma
We entered the cemetery. Walking through it, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Louis’s brother’s death. At the beginning of Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice, Louis has a hard time accepting his brother’s death. He feels responsible for his death. He feels the creeping shadow that often follows grief: regret. Louis had laughed at his brother’s devotion to God. He had rejected his brother’s visions and had refused to partake in them. I felt sheer discomfort reading through this section, just as I had felt walking through that cemetery. I started thinking about my family and immediately shut down those thoughts. Death is terrifying for me. Living with grief is frightening. Add a sprinkle of regret and … hard to imagine living with grief and regret at the same time.
Interestingly, the way Louis responded to grief was getting closer to death, involuntarily. He got attacked and became a vampire. He saw Lestat kill. He saw Claudia kill. And he eventually killed. By this point, the novel felt less real. My mind exited the real world and entered a fantastical dark world. A gothic escape called New Orleans. As we got to Jackson Square, the gothic images were incessant. If I had a dollar for every time I saw a Voodoo shop I would retire tomorrow. Death was almost glorified. The vampire cafe with its “Blood bag” drink. The voodoo museum with its sinister images that attracted many tourists. The “friendly ghosts” that roam around Jackson Square. Death was close to life in New Orleans but I was no longer afraid. It almost reminded me of Louis’s parallel journey with death, transforming from avoiding it to taking part in it.
“I never saw a living, pulsing human being until I was a vampire; I never knew what life was until it ran out in a red gush over my lips, my hands!”
Horse-drawn carriage in the French Quarter
This theme of glorification of death followed me everywhere I went in southern Louisiana. One day, Daniela and I were preparing to go to The Shop to read when we ran into Kevin, the manager of the Lafayette Hotel we are staying at in the Central Business District. He started asking us about our day and by the end of the conversation, we had somehow plunged into a 20-minute snapshot of the culture shock he experienced when moving to New Orleans. He was reminiscing on the first funeral he went to. A minute into the topic he mentioned “jazz funeral”. A jazz funeral!? Wow, there was nothing intuitive about this city. There was young Kevin, astonished at what seemed like a festival accompanying the dead into the grave. During a jazz funeral, after the body is deposited into the ground, a jazz procession follows that signifies a celebration of life. I was intrigued. Here I am, terrified of death, avoiding the thought of it any chance I get while there was a whole culture out there playing jazz during someone’s burial, celebrating the life the person lived. This concept was incredibly eye-opening. At some point in Interview with the Vampire, in a heated discussion with Lestat about their vampire nature, Louis has an epiphany. He realizes he appreciates life so much more now, having taken part in taking it away. On a similar note, one must celebrate life before it’s too late. Let the celebration of life after death not be the first and only time we celebrate life.
“It’s funny when you’re dead how people start listening.”
St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square
But bits of the city brought back the creeping discomfort. New Orleans was also like a real life paradox. As we first stepped foot in Jackson Square, a grand structure looked down on me. St Louis Cathedral. A cathedral in the midst of dark imagery, how ironic. As a Christian, I had been avoiding anything Voodoo simply because of the discomfort I felt. But on the day we went to the Voodoo Museum, I decided to try the experience. Walking inside, I felt like an “other” again. But feeling like an “other” was no longer a source of discomfort. As I mentioned before, it was a sign that I was growing closer to my true self. I was growing closer to faith and with that came the feeling of not fitting in. And I am ok with that. I long to fully find myself. And be unapologetically myself. Stick to my core beliefs, just like Louis’s brother did. He died being true to himself.
“...he never wavered in his conviction for a second.”