10 Years Ago: Louisiana: Opelousas: A Holy Ghost Party

 

Given the bendiness of the word ghost, it pleases me that the Holy Ghost Catholic Church in Opelousas, Louisiana, hosts the Holy Ghost Creole Festival around Halloween. 

 

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Louisiana: Opelousas: A Holy Ghost Party

 

Men of Vision, 2014 Holy Ghost Catholic Church Creole Festival, Opelousas, Louisiana

So. Halloween. Not being a trick-or-treater or wear-a-costume sort of gal, my annual strategy is to get out of the house on Halloween and hide out til the littles have completed their rounds.

In Lafayette, it being a party kind of place and Halloween being on a Friday this year, you would surmise correctly if you thought that most getaways included dressing up.

But then I saw the perfect place to go - the 22nd Annual Holy Ghost Catholic Church Creole Festival. The festival is the first weekend in November, beginning on Friday. Gospel music on Friday night.

Here's a video from St. Landry's Parish, focusing on Holy Ghost women making potato pies for the 2011 festival:

I got to hear different styles of gospel music at the church: 

• Rap
• Jazz
• Blues
• and I guess what I'd call the traditional gospel style

Here's a gospel rap song called "Having a Holy Ghost Party," performed at the concert Friday night:

 

And one of the songs from the Mount Olive Baptist Church Men's Chorus:

And from three women whose group name I forget:

       

There was even a performance of liturgical dance by the youth, and at first, I thought, aha, this is a new idea for me, but wait .... liturgical dance is just a fancy way of talking about sacred dance, which has been practiced in many cultures for eons.

2014 Holy Ghost Catholic Church Creole Festival, Opelousas, Louisiana

Sheesh, didn't I just spend a year in New Mexico, where traditions of sacred dance are carefully protected and handed down through the present generations?
 

2014 Holy Ghost Catholic Church Creole Festival, Opelousas, Louisiana

 
It was a perfect way to spend All Saints Eve.

Men of Vision, 2014 Holy Ghost Catholic Church Creole Festival, Opelousas, Louisiana

10 Years Ago: Opelousas: Market and Music: A Pretty Girl

 

In preparing this post, I came upon the sad news that "Lil Kenny," the namesake of Lil Kenny and the Heartbreakers died in 2021. 

 

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Opelousas: Market and Music: A Pretty Girl

There are a number of reasons why the regularity of my blog posts has faltered, and one of them is that even though I may have gone to a kick-ass musical event, there's only so much one can say about music events. Ditto for photos of musicians. Even the sublime becomes mundane with too much talk about it.

So it is that instead of a photo or description of the eminently entertaining Lil Kenny and the Heartbreakers at the October 3rd Market and Music event in Opelousas, I present to you a picture of a pretty girl at that event, Lorena.

Lorena, Opelousas, Louisiana. October 2014.

I saw Lorena and did a double-take - something about her reminded me of a beautiful Vermeer painting. Lorena makes me smile just to look at her.

So thanks to Lorena and her mother - a fellow life adventuress, as I subsequently learned - for permission to share this photo.

Word of the Year: Migration: Vietnam

 

Vietnamese refugees on boat, circa 1985. Credit: US Navy via wikipedia.

 

I'm visiting Hanoi in November. I'll be there for a month.

Both boats and Vietnam are on my mind in recent days.

As an agnostic member of a couple of 12-step programs, I've had to fashion a higher power that works for me.

Many years ago, before I walked into the 12-step life, a quote by Thich Nhat Hanh spoke to me:

In Vietnam, there are many people, called boat people, who leave the country in small boats. Often the boats are caught in rough seas or storms, the people may panic, and the boats can sink. But if even one person aboard can remain calm, lucid, knowing what to do and what not to do, he or she can help the boat survive.

Thich Nhat Hanh, Being Peace

 

I envision my higher power as a sturdy little boat. (I aspire to being calm, lucid, and capable.) My sturdy little boat can't prevent, lessen the strength, or shorten the duration of inevitable storms, but its sturdiness imparts calm, confidence, and courage to me - as long as I trust in its seaworthiness. 

For much of my life I looked to birds as inspiration - and even now, their song, beauty of flight, nest-building skills, and yes, their "bird's eye view" of things - speak to me. 

But it's in the sturdy little boat where I can find calm and courage as family members, country, and the world convulse in painful spasms of confusion, helplessness, mistrust, horror, fear, loss, and grief.

I do not reduce Vietnam to static tropes of "boat people," the Vietnam War (aka the American War, as viewed by Vietnamese), or pho.  

No, it's the juxtaposition of my series on migration this year, and my distress (and on some days, despair) over the shameful lashes of verbal and mental abuse on the backs of women, men, and children who are only doing what rational, courageous people do to rescue themselves from untenable circumstances in their homes. 

Mere days ago, folks in the path of Hurricane Helene left their homes, household items held dear, neighborhoods, schools, houses of worship, vegetable gardens - not because of any frivolous reasons - but because they felt they had to leave. For their security. They were/are migrants themselves, even if only for a short time. If they are among the fortunate.

10 Years Ago: Louisiana: Are You a Teacher?

 In re-visiting my original post, I reconfirmed the librarian thing in the American folklore, and then found this SNL piece, The Librarian, which plunged into hellfire. [Consider yourself warned].

 

 

 

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Louisiana: Are You a Teacher?

 

Oh, how many times have I been asked that since I've lived in South Louisiana!

Strangers ask me this question, and it happened again just last night.

I respect teachers. And because South Louisiana must have more teachers per square inch than perhaps anywhere else in the world, I've had the pleasure of meeting many lovely representatives of the teaching profession here.

I have discussed this "are you a teacher?" question at some length with a local buddy, also a transplant from Not Around Here. He is of the opinion that he can identify a teacher from afar. His claim has some credibility because he used to be a teacher and had ample time to study many females of the species in their natural habitat. Last night I asked him to define exactly how one profiles a (woman) teacher, and here's what he said --> A woman is possibly a teacher if she wears a:

• Jean skirt;
• Flow-y skirt; 
• Skirt that falls below the knees; 
• Sandals with wide straps; 
• Gabardine shirt;
• Blouse that is worn over a skirt (i.e. not tucked in); 
• Blouse or dress with a bold print; or
• Shirt that covers her ass.  

He suggested I could probably go online and find websites devoted to what teachers wear. I said I would definitely do this, because based on my experience in South Louisiana, maybe my very own photo is on those websites as a Sample Teacher.

Here are the results of my search on what teachers wear. You be the judge of my buddy's analysis:

Teachers Have Lives, Too

Chioma's Evolution of Style

Pencil Lead and Lace 

 
Again, I love teachers. But it's got to be said that teachers don't have the same panache as, say, librarians.With librarians you never know what they're going to do, like pull off their glasses, let down their hair from that tight bun, and you know, become very un-librarianlike while maintaining their presumed intellect. Librarians are unpredictable, thus a little dangerous. But not teachers. Nope, teachers go to prison for doing what librarians do.

This morning I shared my experience with several women, all of whom are native South Louisianans. I wondered if such queries might even be a local culture thing - maybe other people are approached with conjectures about their profession. Maybe it's just a conversation starter.

The jury's still out on all that, but we considered a couple of new responses to the question:

"Yes! I teach pole dancing! How could you tell?"

Flash a fake badge and say, "No, I'm with the FBI on an undercover operation, and things are about to pop. Move away or you might get hurt."

One of the woman said, "Well, what profession do you want people to think you have?"

Good question. I don't want them to have an assumption about my profession. If anyone is going to say anything, I'd like them to say to me what a stranger said to me in Bernalillo, New Mexico: "You are really having fun, aren't you?" and the answer would be yes.


Note: The fact that I am a teacher is beside the point. 

10 Years Ago: Louisiana: We Still Stop for Carcasses

 

 ... and still do.

 

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Louisiana: We Still Stop for Carcasses

 

Dead bluejay, Franklin, Louisiana. August 2014.

In December 2012, when I was in New Mexico, my mother came to visit. I wrote this post: We Stop for Carcasses.

Still do, and the number of photos has increased to the point of warranting a slide show:

Not sure why I mark these remains of what used to be life. Perhaps it's that taking a photo and sharing that photo is a conscious noticing of them.

The original post: 

"We Stop for Carcasses."

My mother, Carol, who is visiting me from Missouri, and I were driving at a speedy clip down Highway 117, I think, when I saw chicken-sized ravens making merry on the remains of a large mammal. I wondered if I should stop to take a look, but passed on.

I commented to Carol, "Did you see that animal the ravens were eating"?
"No," she said. 
I asked, "Do you want me to turn around"? 
"Yes. We stop for carcasses," she replied.

So I turned around.

Dead elk, Highway 117, New Mexico. December 2012.

Earlier in Carol's visit, we'd stopped for this fallen elk on Highway 70 between Tularosa and Mescalero.

Dead elk, Highway 70, New Mexico. December 2012.

As Carol was framing her shot, a car pulled up behind us. A man emerged and walked toward us. What? Ah, he was a tourist from Nebraska. He had his camera out, too.

A few years ago, on another trip to New Mexico with my mother, I stopped for a wilderpee along Highway 152, only to almost stumble on this dead dog.

Dead dog, Highway 152, New Mexico. March 2003.

Speaking of almost stumbling on carrion while finding a good place to relieve oneself, here's a shot of a dead deer in Carson National Forest, also in New Mexico, on yet another past trip.  I got all artistic on this shot.  

Dead deer, Carson National Forest, New Mexico. November 2008.

 There has been no lack of carrion in Missouri, either:

Dead armadillo, Highway 21, Missouri. October 2009.

Dead frog, Missouri

Dead snake, Missouri

Dead something, Highway 21, Missouri

Then there was the horse in Nazret, Ethiopia:

Dead horse, Nazret, Ethiopia

... and the one in Monument Valley:

Dead horse, Monument Valley

This poor bird got caught in some branches in Arkansas:

Dead duck, Arkansas

Remains of dove killed by hawk, which later return for leftovers. Alamogordo, NM

 We stop for carcasses.

10 Years Ago: On Getting a Puppy

 

 I've had several so-called smart phones (do we still need to call them that?) since my original adoption in 2014. All androids. I've liked all of them except my current, which I bought in 2023. It's my first Samsung. I actually kind of hate it. Samsung's purported superior camera tore me away from going with a Google Pixel. 

I mightily regret:

• The indecent amount of bloatware on the Samsung
• Saving money by going with only one port (for charging and for wired earbuds), which I've paid plenty for in annoyance
  
• Its larger size - and with the added investment for a phone case - heavier mass

 Fortunately, in just a few short years, I'll be able to move on.

Here's a throwback phone to the one issued to me in Caucasus Georgia. It wasn't all that smart, but it was smart enough. 

My Caucasus Georgia Nokia phone. June 2012.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Rootless: On Getting a Puppy

It's not really a puppy, but kind of like a puppy

No, I haven't got a real puppy. But I have acquired something like a puppy. I've got to learn its ways, train it, and be trained by it.

I've got to keep track of it, so it doesn't get lost or stolen. I can handle it playfully, but not roughly.


It's not really a phone, but it's called a phone

It's a smart phone, my first. Only to call it a smartphone is a misnomer. It is a mini computer with a phone application.

This is not just semantics. How I view my new puppy affects how I socialize it with the world.

With my soon-to-be-old "dumb phone" - let's say my pet "turtle" - I could:

• Make and receive phone calls;
• Laboriously write texts and check email; and
• Make limited forays onto the internet. 

I had little concern about privacy boundaries or theft or malware because the dumb phone itself was like a turtle. A built-in shell for protection, by dint of its limited features, and thus easily monitored or caught if it meandered off, too humble to attract unwanted attention from strangers.

It's an entirely different story with my mini-computer.


Why did I get this puppy?

Being rootless, why would I want to be tied down with a puppy? Sheesh, now I've got to worry about dropping the damn thing or the glass will crack. It's cute and sweet and thereby attractive to strangers who might like to adopt it for themselves, so I've got to always have my radar on to make sure I know where it is. And it requires so much training - for the little one and me - to become true pals.

There are several reasons why I went this route: 

1. My turtle phone was on its last legs - that reliable, albeit limited, $30 phone I've had for years, with the cute little teeth marks on the top left-hand corner.  
2. My laptop is getting on in years and it could go belly up at any time, and I need a sophisticated, on-the-spot back-up to turn to for my work. 
3. I'll be headed out of the country again soon and I want an unlocked mini-computer that can run by wifi or a data plan. 

An invisible fence

When I bought my little puppy, I was still thinking of it as a phone. A phone with a lot of very cool enhancements. Consequently, I was startled by the decisions I had to make right away. Such as:

• What personal bits about myself - my data exhaust - did I want to have on this device? 
• What apps did I want to download - and what information was I willing to share in order to get these apps? 
• How could I enjoy all the benefits of a mini-computer without leaving a trail of personal me everywhere I went? 
• How many ads - if any - can I tolerate in exchange for a "free" app? 
• What data am I willing to lose if my mini-computer falls into the hands of strangers? 
• Like a puppy, I'm not willing to let my little device sit in a hot car for hours while I'm off canoeing or swimming or doing something else that puts it at risk. So do I change my habits and just leave it at home for such activities? 

Some decisions I've made (and it might make sense here to note that I've bought an Android device): 

1. Thank God, I have more than one email address (hehehe), so I chose one of my little-used accounts to be the email account on my device. I can put some distance between this account and me-central.
2. Do I really need to download a free game that requires access to my contact list? Hell, no! No games for you, little puppy! 
3. Do I need to download Kindle to my mini-computer? No, I've got a kindle e-reader, and I don't want to connect my Amazon account to my device. If I want to read, that's what my e-reader is for. Or an actual book. 
4. Do I want to stay signed in to my Skype account on my device? No; I've only got it on there as a back-up, and I don't ever want to make another mistake call to a work-related client.Whoops. (The lil' puppy is so eager to please, it tries to anticipate what you want by going to fetch somebody else's paper. Bad girl.) 

I'm trying to find the right balance between security and maximum fun + utility.

Again, it's all about safe sex.


What'd I buy? 

Short answer: Moto G 4LTE.

Longer answer: It was all about: 

• Excellent reviews;
• Budget; 
• Long battery life; 
• Unlocked and GSM for international use; and
• Android operating system. 

 

10 Years Ago: Louisiana: Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014

 

Since my original post in 2014, these gentlemen have passed away: 

• Ray Abshire (full name Emerson Ray Abshire), 2023
• D.L. Menard

 

This throwback post offers a good excuse to serve up my Crawfish slide show: 

 

 

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Louisiana: Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014

Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

The Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival!

Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

It's always the first weekend of May, and in 2014, the town celebrated its 54th festival.

Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

Bags checked at gate - not even a bottle of water allowed in.

Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

Fabulous music. Fabulous.  Six months ago, I didn't know these people existed, but today, I can tell you it is very satisfying to see venerable musicians such as Ray Abshire and D.L. Menard in person.

Ray Abshire and company, Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

I filmed Mr. Menard's performance (with the band Jambalaya) of his famous song, Back Door, here. How I love this song! I'm not wild about the quality of my video, though, so I invite you to watch the superior video below, which someone filmed at the 2009 Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival:

It was also fun to see people I "knew" from having watched videos before I went to the festival.

Like this good-lookin', good-dancin' couple below:

Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

I first "met" them in the much-viewed video below from the 2009 festival:

Now look at that still photo again (above the video). See the slender guy on the right? In the flappy-eared hat? Well, that's Leon of Cafe des Amis renown, and you can watch him dance in the video here, taken by a visitor to that cafe:

Note: Leon's dance partner is doing a damn fine job herself.

It's pretty hot and sunny in BB, Louisiana, and as I have learned from watching southern Louisianans with parades, they know how to attend a festival. It's first come-first serve at the Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival, but you can bring your own shade tent and set it up in permissible areas. This is a life-saver when you're at the festival for the long haul. 

Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

Of course, everyone has a chair.

Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

If I were staying longer, I'd definitely invest in one of those folding chairs with its own awning.  Below, you can see one or two of these awning-chairs, but otherwise, you'll see a variety of umbrellas:

Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

I never tire of watching people dance, especially zydeco. It's fun to see the same people at the different venues. You get to know their styles, their signature moves.

Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

(Between you and me, though, I've learned that a lot of people dance whatever the hell they want to zydeco music, especially the jitterbug, the two-step, some form of swing, or just whatever the spirit moves them to do.)  

As my dance teacher said, as long as you're moving to the beat, it really doesn't matter.

DL Menard with Jambalaya, Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival 2014, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana