Vita è Bella!

New Orleans

It's odd... I usually don't go much anywhere beyond home, school, and the highways connecting the two. But within a month I'll have traveled to southern Indiana for internship interviews, New Orleans for Band, and (in just under 2 weeks) Rome! There'll be plenty of time to discuss Rome, as my study there is the reason for this blog, so for this post, I'll focus on those first two trips, both which were wonderful.

Immediately after moving out of my room at school, Mom and I took off for a tiny town at the very bottom of Indiana. I'd applied for a summer internship earlier in the semester, and received an invitation for a weekend of interviews as a next step in the application process. The internship is a 6-week program in which interns both attend classes on liturgical formation/theological reflection, as well as lead high school groups during Liturgical Leadership Conferences. It fits perfectly with my goals for grad school and a career in ministry! I wish I could go into greater detail about the program, but Mom doesn't want me to put too much information about my whereabouts on the internet. If you're curious, just e-mail her (if she hasn't told you all about it already!) I had an amazing weekend--it felt more like a retreat than anything! It was refreshing to go to such a peaceful place right after the stress of finals week, and I met some incredible people. Mom enjoyed her time on her own as well, and we both left feeling refreshed and content. We had a pleasant ride home along the western border of Indiana (which is wayyy taller than I ever pictured it, and has some of the flattest farmland I've ever seen) and on up towards home. Mom even let me drive a stretch, which was exciting! I really enjoyed my time down there, and as it turned out, God wants me to head back down this summer. I've received a position there, and couldn't be more thrilled! So I'll get back from Rome in May, have three weeks to adjust back to life in America, then head down for six amazing weeks as an intern. I'm certainly one lucky gal.

Christmas with the family was WONDERFUL! I especially enjoyed Christmas dinner at Grandpa's--we have so many little ones running around that the night just flew by! I spent most of my time chasing after them, playing and taking pictures, and I loved every minute. It's amazing to come back after four months and see how much they've grown... I wish I could see them more often.

So just after we'd settled back down from the holiday rush, I found myself preparing for yet another trip--New Orleans! To back up a little bit, over the summer I decided to try out for the Marching Band, because I really missed Band after being in it for four years in high school. I thought I'd at least try, because if I didn't I knew I'd always look back with regret. I ended up making it, and have had one of the best experiences of my life! I'm one of 43 piccolos (yes, that's right, 43 of those high-pitched, ear-piercing instruments in one place... tuning is always painful, and usually impossible). Marching Band has opened up countless doors for me, and most importantly, it's introduced me to some of the most incredible, talented, friendly and fun people I know. The band is like one massive family in itself, and each of the sections is like a more tight-knit family with its own traditions and rivalries. For example, the faltos (marching french horns) and the saxophones are bitter enemies. The trombones are the goofy ones, the percussionists are usually off in their own little world, we piccolos have a dance for everything (the most popular of which is the shimmy, which every member takes part in, even our one male picc!), and the trumpets are the wild ones. We practice Monday through Thursday, and have an insane schedule with absolutely no free time on game weekends, so we all tend to grow pretty close! We see one another at our best and at our worst, and share in all the thrills, trials, moments of exhaustion and rushes of elation that Band brings. It's a huge time commitment, and sometimes a rollercoaster, but it's worth everything just to run out of that tunnel on the first game day. I'm proud to be part of such an amazing tradition.

This year was a rather exciting one for the Band, and I was even more thrilled to discover that we would get flown out to a Bowl game to end the year, at no personal expense! They flew us all out of the nearest airport, paid for our hotels and airfare, and even gave us a nice stipend for meals and spending money. December 30th arrived quicker than I expected, and I soon found myself all alone on a plane bound for Cincinnati to connect down to New Orleans. It was storming as we flew in, and we experienced steady turbulence for at least half an hour, but I had some friends on the plane with me, so it was fine. The only bad thing came after I stepped off the plane and into the humidity--I still can't get over how quickly my hair can go from smooth and straight to poofy and half wavy! It was not good. That first couple days brought a series of reunions, and I found myself marvelling once more at all the blessings God has given me through the people I've met in Band. I don't know how I'll last eight months without them! From the very beginning, I decided not to talk about leaving at all, if I could help it. My goal was to just enjoy every moment as it came, and not worry about the impending goodbyes.

So on New Year's Eve, they took us to our first practice at a school in the area most affected by Hurricane Katrina. We had to have a police escort in, and went through neighborhoods that were clearly devestated by the storms. The houses all had big "X's" spraypainted on, with little numbers and abbreviations indicating the numbers dead, missing, and alive. Some houses had boats and trailers in the yards, with "I'm back. Are you?" spraypainted on the sides. Many still look abandoned. Some houses still haven't even been searched. It's appalling to think that, a year and a half later, there's still so much that hasn't been cleaned up down there. The school whose practice field we used is actually being shut down entirely, because the damage is too bad. The school was built in the 1800's, and it's been really difficult for the community down there to have to see it close. It was inspiring, though, to feel the hope of all the people who gathered to watch us practice, and to remember all those who have been taking action and trying to move on. When we got off the buses, we were greeted by an enormous group of people, all cheering and waving at us as we walked over to the field. I was among the first off the bus, and it all seemed so surreal. We felt like celebrities! They had their video cameras and were filming and cheering us on and clapping for us... it was a really powerful moment. Even though practice was really muddy, I marched proudly that day. After, they made us jumbalaya (which I couldn't eat, being vegetarian) and tried to offer us 24 cases of beer (which our directors wouldn't allow, haha).

That night, after watching the Packers leap ahead of the Bears in the first half of the game, much to my delight and to the disappointment of the Bear's fans with me, we set out to enjoy a night on the town. Our hotel was on Canal Street in the French Quarter, just blocks from Bourbon Street and right up from Jackson Square. My friend Stephanie and I, along with some wonderful trumpet men, set out for Bourbon Street, arm in arm. (Side note: One of my best friends, Jessica, is a trumpet, and I know a lot of other trumpets thanks to her, so as the year progressed I found myself becoming an honorary trumpet in many ways. I spent most of my time in New Orleans with them, because they're really wonderful!). As we turned the corner, I immediately understood why Bourbon Street has the reputation that it holds. I've never seen so many bars and strip clubs on one street! The only place I even went into was a restaurant serving Po-Boy sandwiches... other than that, I stayed in my nice little groups wandering the crowded streets. The guys were very protective of us, and stayed by our sides, guiding us through the crazy crowds all night. I actually had a lot more fun than I'd originally anticipated! We ended up just dancing in the streets, soaking up the atmosphere and occasionally stopping to catch beads as people threw them off balconies. At midnight we were on Jackson Square for fireworks and a ball drop (which we accidentally missed), and I don't think I've ever been in such a densely-packed crowd. I could hardly breathe! It was quite a night.

The next couple days brought more practice during the daytime and more exploring at night. I swiftly discovered that it's impossible to be vegetarian and live in New Orleans, unless you love seafood. We went to Mulate's, one of the original Cajun restaurants, where everyone else tried alligator and frog legs and I paid $15 to eat white rice, bread, and vegetables, because I couldn't handle the seafood gumbo. (The little seacreatures still had FEELERS! And legs and things! I lost my appetite pretty fast.) But I survived on veggie subs and bagels. One of the nights, we went on a Haunted History tour around the French Quarter, which was fascinating. Our tour guide was named Mideon, and he looked as though he belonged on the show "Unsolved Mysteries." He had a long, leather trenchcoat, dark eyes, a deep, dramatic voice, and a sincere belief in the reality of the stories he was telling. I got a kick out of many of the stories, but was thoroughly disturbed by others. It was well worth the cost though! As the days went on, I felt as though I got to see a number of different sides of New Orleans, but there's still so much that city seems to be hiding. The French Quarter and the Riverwalk are beautiful, Bourbon Street is shady, everything past Saint Anne's street is just kind of creepy, but the music scene is amazing. I didn't know what to make of it, but I had a great time.

Gameday was... interesting. We spent over 14 hours in the Superdome, in which time we didn't see any sunlight at all, only to lose pretty badly that night. But we had fun with all our down time, and it was awesome to be part of the halftime show in there. That place is huge! After we finished our pre-game show, we went to line up by the tunnel, and I was the closest one to the wall. All the players came slowly walking towards the tunnel entrance, their eyes focused and intense, the spotlight highlighting the numbers on their chests just like an image from a movie. Number 10 was in the very front, black paint even and perfect under his eyes, and the rest followed, jumping up and down and flexing their fingers. I stood in awe, smiling with wide eyes at the scene before me. I seriously felt like I was watching a movie scene come to life! I could hear everything they were saying to one another, and see every fidgety movement. When they finally took off, it was quite a rush. The first half went really well, but the second was kind of awful. I don't want to think about it all that much. There's always next year!

It was hard to say goodbye. We didn't go to sleep at all, because by the time we got back to the hotel we only had a couple of hours before our shuttles were leaving for the airport. That last day is just a blur in my memory... a blur of faces, and farewells, and tears. But I had the time of my life, and I'll cherish those memories.

And the best part is, I know I'll have all those faces waiting for me when I come back home.

posted by Sarah @ 9:19 PM