Po' Boys, Hurricanes, and ... Voodoo Witches?

I was down in New Orleans this past week for a portion of the National Rural Health Association conference ... while there, I had a chance to revisit Bourbon Street, see my friend Faro from my AmeriCorps days, eat a garbage po' boy, and sip on a hurricane. The tourist areas are back in full swing, but not that far away sit empty houses with gaping doorways, moldy furniture, and broken windows ... whose owners have long since left with Katrina nearly three years ago. It was all rather surreal ... as if we were playing charades.

I was in the city all of 48 hours or so, but I did manage to cross paths with some rather bizarre figures, the most notable of which was a woman in front of me at the airport when I was checking in to fly home. I couldn't quite hear the entire conversation, but she fisted $800 in cash and was trying to purchase a one-way ticket to Washington, apparently. She wore a short paisley dress that I was pretty sure was being worn backwards, a two-sizes-too-small cream sweater pullover, and flip-flops. She clutched a large blue canvas bag, an oversized cream one, a dirty black-and-white purse, and a red, broken children's plastic chair. But the most disconcerting, perhaps, was the black net face mask. The man ahead of me in line muttered something under his breath about voodoo witches. The gate agent finally informed her that he was voiding her ticket, much to her displeasure. She threw her belongings on the ground and turned around to stare at the two of us waiting in line. I just stared back, not exactly sure how to react. She grabbed her cash and the broken chair and disappeared. Of all the times where maybe I wouldn't have minded NOT going to Washington ... !