I talked to Red Cross representatives about bringing us the supplies we needed: all of the above. They said they could provide us with water, bleach and buckets. Later that day the representative called me back to say that we had been taken off the drop-off list because of a conflict that no one could remember. They brought us three cases of water and “snacks” that lasted maybe two hours.
Today I organized the kitchen. I have been working on it little bits at a time, restocking and clean up. We are almost finished with large Kwanzaa signs that will be put up in the next few days and will be painting signs for a restaurant around the corner. I spent a few hours going through clothes with a woman, and put together clothes for a nine-year-old girl. Itâs hard to describe how I feel through all of these moments. Itâs automatic. I do it and itâs needed. At the end of the day Iâm tired- feelin’ fine but exhausted. Sometimes I feel my brain shutting down, slowing to a halt and letting out the steam. It takes every inch of my being, fingernails and all.
Last week the paper said that the residents of New Orleans have four months to make sure their houses were salvageable. In order to do so you have to have permits for contractors and inspectors. No one is giving them out. People are just starting to come back to their broken lives to clean up. This is our four-month mark. I don’t understand how this all works out. Even if you did get the okay on your home it might not matter. They have zoned where new development will be if this goes through. More then 3/4 of the residential section has been scratched.
Last Sunday we all went to the Second Line parade. These happen almost every Sunday, and gets its name because it is the line that follows after a funeral procession. There were three of four different bands playing, brass a plenty with reggae beats. Bands take turns playing and walk all over the city, from one to end to the other. People step out in style — hair, shoes, the works. Follow close to the band and dance, when one bands stops, be ready for the next out to start, and follow their lead — you never know which way youâre going to head.
There is a lot happening. Mamma [Dee] is sick and has been laying low. We go about our days getting done what needs to be done: Dishes, cooking, tree cutting, gutting, cleaning, handing out donations. You never know what the day will bring. I am living in the moment, in a bubble of day-to-day flow. I find myself worrying about getting in the supplies we need. The volunteers have put aside water for ourselves, but everyone who stops asks for water and bleach, of which we have none. I’m trying to figure out who has what and how we get our hands on it. Mamma isn’t affiliated with any organization; she’s just a neighbor trying to put her community back together. We have no system of donation of money. We are in contact with other volunteer groups but what they have we don’t always need. I’m looking for ways of getting goods down from my home territory.
I haven’t looked at any of my mail. By the end of the day all I want is a good cup of tea and to sit by the fire and maybe a good game of Uno. I wish I could have gotten to a computer sooner, but when you get in a roll with the flow itâs hard to break free.
With much love and light, AnnaB.
thanks Charley for posting. It reminds me why we’re all doing what we’re doing (at least in my mind) and what our fundamental mission must be: to help people whether they’re in New Orleans or Pakistan or down the street. I think sometimes that gets lost in all the (occasionally nasty) political bickering and tit for tat. The majority of those who run for office do so it because they want to make a difference. Now, some may have lost their way but I think fundamentally you’re not involved in a campaign unless you want to do better for your community.
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Charlie’s message reminds us of that and should remind us all why we can agree to disagree but fundamentally we should all respect eachother for being in it for the same reasons.