Gone Fishin' -- Cart Weiland

Mosquitoes be warned, I thought; we had come prepared. I drenched myself in Off, grabbed the cooler, and hiked up the levee that stood before us. I wasn’t really sure where we were or what small waterway we had found, but I really didn’t care. It was a beautiful, balmy night in the Crescent City, and we had decided we needed to be outside. We set out driving with Billy Joel blaring from the car speakers and soon stumbled across a small channel of water somewhere not far from Lake Pontchartrain.

As I sat in the long grass on top of the levee and gulped down my Turbodog, I watched one in our legion assemble a fishing pole that he had brought along. He baited his hook with some shrimp he had just purchased at the local tackle shop (also known as Whole Foods Market) and then wandered down the levee to the edge of the water. This night was about fishing, New Orleans style.

As I finished my Turbodog and switched to Haze, I gazed out over the moonlit marshy water, and I suddenly realized that this night—this fishing and this levee—perfectly symbolized my summer in New Orleans. Now, let me explain:

In less than four weeks, I will return home from New Orleans with a million unanswered questions on my mind. Graduation is less than a year away, and I am constantly being asked what I plan on doing afterwards. The plain truth is that I simply don’t know yet. I think part of the reason I have enjoyed New Orleans so much is because I sense a lot of the city’s growing pains inside myself. Post-Katrina, the city is trying desperately to figure itself out and fix its flaws. I, like New Orleans, am worried about preserving a past and paving the road towards a successful future. In other words, I see myself in the city’s transitions and the city’s transitions in me.

I may be leaving New Orleans in August, but I think I’ll just sit on the top of that levee—the barrier between college and the rest of my life—for awhile longer. And even after I make those difficult decisions that loom before me, I’ll come back to the water. I am certain that I will think about this summer often. While here, I have cast a line. My lure will remain in New Orleans, and I will forever reel her in.