Acclimation - Nader Mohyuddin

VS Naipaul writes in his 1987 novel, The Enigma of Arrival:

To see the possibility, the certainty, of ruin, even at the moment of creation: it was my temperament. Those nerves had been given me as a child in Trinidad partly by our family circumstances: the half-ruined or broken-down houses we lived in, our many moves, our general uncertainty.

Little is certain. After another harrowing finals week in Durham, I had before me several weeks of uncertainty. While I knew mine paled next to those of whom I’d be helping in New Orleans, it bothered me still. I knew summer would be fun—I knew that. But without an idea of where I’d be working, or of details of the meet-up in New Orleans, or of the personalities of those I’d be living with for two months, a lot seemed up in the air. I relaxed when I could, during my month of vegetation at home. Lots of food, video games, basketball, and fun summer outings. Couldn’t complain.

But the details worked themselves out. I’d eventually decided, on a last-second whim, to work with Providence Community Housing, a non-profit housing development group, working in property acquisitions. With my career interest in business, it seemed a good fit; with the tremendous benefits the work could result in (that is, a key step in building homes is to secure the property), it seemed a great fit.

And so June rolls around, my sister graduates high school, I say goodbye to a few friends, and I pack my belongings and head down to the bayou.

A week goes by.

And really, in a whirlwind. Providence ended up a spectacular fit, with consummate professionals in all areas of work, a short commute, and a comfortable working environment. A good friend of mine, Reid Cater, works with me at the office, though is often with another division. Mike Koler works there part-time as well, and may be involved in similar tasks as mine. With my own business card, a cubicle, and three bosses, I feel well acclimated already. I was never a coffee drinker: two days into work, and I can’t go without two cups a day. So it goes.

A brief description of what I do: I accumulate, manage, and analyze databases of potential target properties compiled from multiple sources (City of New Orleans, Housing Agencies, etc.) and examine their desirability for redevelopment. Another project on the horizon will entail assisting the development of a community-wide survey of every house in our target area (just north of Vieux Carre), to get a solid idea on who lives in each house, and what shape (physically and legally) the property is in. Meeting with residents and community “stakeholders” (those with vital interests in the community) for input in the redevelopment process is a key part of Providence’s vision. It is their community: Providence wants to develop it the way they want it. Paramount in this end is the philosophy of one-to-one housing: that is, building exactly as many units as is demolished, to make sure everyone who was displaced has a place to return.

So, I won’t have a lack of things to do. Sure, it’s a very “office” kind of job. (They are getting a new watercooler this week, in fact. Here comes the gossip.) But the cause is a great one, and they are taking the lead on all sorts of work, from community outreach, maintaining contact with refugees spread across 37 states, to lobbying Congress to ensure money allocation is done in the best interest of those most affected. Altogether, I don’t think I could’ve hoped for a better company, a better job for my interests and skills, and a better way to work this summer.

But summer isn’t all about work. Certainly not in New Orleans…to do so would be to belie the history and traditions we are working to restore. Fun is in no short quantity here. St. Charles Avenue is an architectural landmark, along with the rest of the Garden District. Just gorgeous. The food (non-dining hall, that is) has been good, but there’s certainly more to come. Delmonico anyone? The French Quarter, is, well, an icon. From the packed streets, to the legendary balconies, the fun is raging 24 hours a night. Old Bruno's on Maple is great, and Magazine Street has been a quieter, and personally more enjoyable destination, but fun spots seem to be all over the city.

There’s still a lot to do, no doubt. A bus tour of the Katrina destruction was certainly sobering. Virtual ghost towns that were bustling just two years ago. The water lines in particular are rather poignant. But, as the tour guide noted in her very slight Louisiana accent, there’s a lot already underway. For all the (deserved) anger at FEMA, The Road Home, and other inefficient bodies, the one force that even Katrina can not quell is that of human compassion. With thousands of volunteers in the area, work is getting done. Gutting houses, putting up drywall, painting houses in classically bright New Orleans color schemes—homes and businesses are slowly coming back to life. And with those come communities, and with communities comes a city. Long considered “the biggest little city in America,” New Orleans has had a variety of small, vibrant neighborhoods that had their own personal flavors. Working to restore these communities, which Providence is doing, is a key part of restoring New Orleans to what it was. And to help that cause is rewarding in any number of ways.

Arrival may be enigmatic, but life moves a little slower by the mighty Mississippi. With steamboats still chugging, with rum flowing like wine, and with muggy summer nights punctuated with the sweet swing of street jazz, it’s better just to take it easy.