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Sounds Like Home

March 6, 2010
Home

The view from my front door.

I’ve been in New Orleans for about 6 weeks, and every once in a while I get a twinge of home-sickness. There is comfort in long friendships that can’t be replicated without the passing of time. In turn, there is the excitement of new adventures and discovering neighbors and new hangouts. Last night I ventured to a new hangout, just steps outside my door: the neighbor’s porch.

The weather is beautiful so I leave my front door open all the time. There is a little street noise, but last night I could hear my downstairs neighbor outside on his porch. I went down my front stairs to say hello with a beer in hand, just as the sun was going down. Adam was chatting with Jeff and his wife Cathy from across the street, and they welcomed me in immediately. I spent the next quick hours hanging out on the porch, watching the foot traffic go by, Jeff strumming on the guitar, telling hilarious stories by song as we fed him lyrics and topics, neighbors dropping over in groups. By the time I called it a night at 10:30 (and by called it a night, I mean going to Rock-N-Bowl to hear Kermit Ruffins), I felt a sense of home and belonging that I hadn’t expected this early in my life here.

There is a sense of community in New Orleans that doesn’t exist like this anywhere else I’ve ever been. Camaraderie, friendship, the bond of humanity and protection and love. The married couples that I’ve met love each other fiercely, neighbors have a porch culture, people will offer help and sincerely mean it. They will celebrate with you, be happy for you, laugh at you and near you. Hug you after having just met.

I became a member of the radio station WWOZ a couple days ago, and as I was listening to the pledge drive, a woman called in and described perfectly the feeling I’ve been having since arriving in mid-January. She said New Orleaneans are born all over every day, it just sometimes takes a while for them to get here.

As I type this, I can hear the neighbors outside playing a game of cornhole. Clop, clop, clop. Sounds like home.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. March 6, 2010 9:43 pm

    everyone’s laughing and riding and cornholing except buster

Trackbacks

  1. Casual Costuming in New Orleans: Do Whatcha Wanna — GoNOLA.com

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