Road Blocks - New York Times

There was a really interesting article on those stranded away from New Orleans in the New York Times today.

Road to New Life After Katrina Is Closed to Many
By SHAILA DEWAN

CONVENT, La. — This was not how Cindy Cole pictured her life at 26: living in a mobile home park called Sugar Hill, wedged amid the refineries and cane fields of tiny St. James Parish, 18 miles from the nearest supermarket. Sustaining three small children on nothing but food stamps, with no playground, no security guards and nowhere to go.

No, Ms. Cole was supposed to be paying $275 a month for a two-bedroom house in the Lower Ninth Ward — next door to her mother, across the street from her aunt, with a child care network that extended the length and breadth of her large New Orleans family. With her house destroyed and no job or savings, however, her chances of recreating that old reality are slim.

For thousands of evacuees like Ms. Cole, going home to New Orleans has become a vague and receding dream. Living in bleak circumstances, they cannot afford to go back, or have nothing to go back to. Over the two years since Hurricane Katrina hit, the shock of evacuation has hardened into the grim limbo of exile.

“We in storage,” said Ann Picard, 49, cocking her arm toward the blind white cracker box of a house she shares with Ms. Cole, her niece, and Ms. Cole’s three children. “We just in storage.”

Source: New York Times (Full Article, No Registration Required)

Submitted by Nader Mohyuddin

Chickens and The Wild West - Nader Mohyuddin

Balloon Festival in Albuquerque; French Quarter, New Orleans

Sometimes you don't really know a place until you leave it.

And leave New Orleans I did.

I spent my 4th of July "weekend" in what seems a virtual opposite of New Orleans today, despite sharing a variety of similarities. Albuquerque--my destination--and New Orleans are both cities with deep roots in history, with a well-preserved Old Town and French Quarter, respectively, keeping the traditions rich, colorful, and alive. Catholicism plays a role in both cities, though far moreso in New Orleans. Both are diverse cities with traditional race relations turning a new page with growing immigrant communities. Both are ridiculously hot in July.

But for every gutted house and FEMA trailer in New Orleans, there is a brand new, trendy housing development or office building going up in Albuquerque. While New Orleans' death rate skyrockets, Albuquerque's quality of life gets accolades from publications. Just this past year, Forbes ranked the city as the best in the country for business, with good scores across the board and the lowest cost of business in the country. High tech companies like Intel, and smaller boutique firms doing everything from genetics work to the first mainstream production of electric cars, to private jet design.

Even the landscapes are vastly different: where New Orleans is hugged by a mighty river, Albuquerque is built in the foothills of a gigantic mountain. And sometimes, it's the smallest of touches that make all the difference: where New Orleans roads are full of gigantic pot holes, complex mazes of one way streets, and parked cars on every curb, the usually boring-but-efficient interstate in Albuquerque has Native American artwork lining rocky median (there's not much grass around), stone lane dividers painted in an adobe and blue scheme to mimic the desert and the sky, and roads smooth as fresh butter.

Moonrise over Albuquerque and Sandia Mountain

I say this not to make New Orleans sound bad. It isn't. But it does highlight the tremendous challenges that lay ahead of this city, and what it needs to revitalize. Housing is certainly a big part of the puzzle. But in order to catalyze the renewal of New Orleans, better efforts must be made to attract business. Not many companies were attracted to the city before Katrina. It had little competitive advantage over other cities, and a variety of negatives (including a struggling public school system) that put it behind the rest of the pack.

But with the influx of federal money being pumped into this area (albeit mired in federal, state, and local bureaucracy), there is certainly money that can be spent on economic revitalization. Many local businesses, boutiques, and restaurants have re-opened, which is a beautiful sight to both a native New Orleanian and a free-market capitalist alike. But New Orleans could certainly take a page from Albuquerque's book to attract big businesses, which could give jobs to many, attract thousands to return home to New Orleans, and pump millions of dollars into the local economy. Tax holidays, fee and permit waivers, incentive programs, and selective land-grants could all work together to make New Orleans better than ever.

Like ABQ (an abbreviation people of all ages use, unlike ATL), New Orleans is a city without a tremendous amount of endemic resources that would attract business. Combine that with the disastrous effects of Katrina, and the comparisons to a developing country/economy are all the more apt. And just as post-colonial Latin America reacted to its export pessimism with the development of ISI strategy, so too could New Orleans help develop its "domestic" (local) economy through its specific policies. While this temporarily limits free-trade, it ultimately generates far more income mobility (if not equality), and an overall stronger economy with more jobs.

Central Business District during Katrina Flooding

A big hurdle to this is poultry. But instead of a chicken and an egg and an existential quandary regarding their temporal relation, theres about a thousand chickens and a thousand eggs, no one knows who came first, no one knows which egg belongs to whom (perhaps the other way around), and the resources with which to figure out this dilemma are available, but hoarded by a fat, slow farmer with whom everyone is frustrated, even the normally docile, mute eggs who have no means with which to even feel frustrated, but are frustrated no less.

Housing. Jobs. Schools. Infrastructure. City government. Environmental issues. Planning for the next hurricane. Crime. Clean up. Restoration. Revitalization.

You get the idea. But what comes first?

Developing affordable housing for New Orleans.

Despite my desire to use economics and the marketplace to restore New Orleans, I'm glad I'm doing housing development. Sure, it's part of the same puzzle, a feather on the chicken. But given all that coming home means to the people of this city--the people of any city--it's perhaps one of the most important steps in the whole process. Homes, porches, and evening conversations in the sunset wake all mean a lot to this place. Getting back to work and putting kids through school are no doubt hugely important, but having four walls and a roof make all the rest much easier.

Jackson Square and Saint Louis Cathedral, New Orleans

I thought I knew New Orleans pretty well in my month here. And I was amazed at the progress the city itself had made. Granted, Gentilly and Lakeview are still in shambles, and some areas of the Ninth Ward are in complete ruin. Those are enormous issues. But the flavor of the city, the jambalya mix of sweat, sin, and jazz that dances in the thick bayou air like smoke from a late-night cigarette, is already filling the lungs of New Orleanians throughout the city. I thought I had caught a whiff of it in my time here.

And maybe I did.

But leaving the city and seeing the progress other areas have made, and are still making, really throws into sharp relief the challenges facing New Orleans, the challenges everyone talks about but perhaps few actually have a real feel for, let alone solutions.

It is my hope, however, that come August, when we're moving out of our rooms and trekking back to our comfortable homes throughout the country and the world, that we'll leave with more answers than questions, with more solutions than problems, and with more conviction than hope.

Rebuilding NO One TPS Report at a Time - Reid Cater

Customers call into a service number and are asked to leave their information. The next day their call is returned by an employee who asks what service they require and takes their pertinent information. After fielding several dozen calls the employee gathers the various forms he has filled out makes copies of them and files the originals. Next he goes online to print maps of each customers location. He then attaches the maps along with other paper work to the duplicate of the customers form and forwards the packets to the field office. Finally he enters the customers information along with the reference number for their completed packet into an Excel spreadsheet for record keeping.

Since beginning my internship two weeks ago I have completed this process dozens of times. I would probably be doing very similar things if I was working for a company that was installing pools or selling paper. The big difference is that Operation Helping Hands is not selling anything to our "customers" instead we are gutting, painting and helping them to rebuild their homes for free. When I finish a packet and send it to our field office it does not lead to a small profit for a faceless corporation, it leads to a home owner receiving help that they desperately need. It brings them a step closer to returning home to New Orleans.

Sitting in an air conditioned office wearing business casual attire is much easier then gutting houses in the heat. It is also easier to become apathetic when your job mostly resembles Office Space more than Extreme Makeover Home Edition. However, when I field calls from homeowners and process their paperwork I still get to feel the satisfaction of helping people who are in need. Often times they have been trying for months to find someone anyone who might be able to help them. It feels great to be able to say to them that I can make sure that their house is gutted and that we will make sure that the city does not demolish it first. In my desk job directly helping people more than makes up for the occasional boredom of a long Excel spreadsheet.

Having an office job with such rewarding aims may have ruined me for more traditional office jobs. If so that might end up being the most meaningful result of this summer for my future.

A Savage Journey... - Nader Mohyuddin

A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream

WE WERE SOMEWHERE on the edge of Central City, just north of midtown, when reality began to take hold.

The deadliest district of the deadliest city in America. Murders daily, violent crime amuck. And there we were: property development professionals, an accountant, a law student, and an acquisitions intern.

Why?

Lunch, actually. Were you expecting something a bit more substantial? I'll continue.

We had just taken a tour of the multi-family development units throughout dilapidated, abandoned apartments, schools, and churches. Some were well under development and renovation, soon to become affordable apartment housing for the elderly. It's part of HUD's Section 202 initiative, and my employer is working to develop those properties into quality housing for those New Orleanians who have spent decades and decades in the city they love and wish to return to.

But this isn't about housing. I spend enough time at work on that subject. I'll leave that for another time.

This is about lunch.

Terri, our head of finance, suggested Cafe Reconcile as a lunch destination, as she directed her sizable SUV along the bumps on Esplanade Avenue. Cafe Reconcile, I thought, interesting name. As we headed toward the restaurant, I noticed we were turning on to Martin Luther King Jr Blvd. Uh-oh, I worried. The street forms one side of the triangle-shaped area known as Central City, an area I was strongly told to avoid. And we're traveling down it? Surely there are eating options in safer parts of town...

We found a tight parking space and headed to the patio of the cafe. Opening the glass doors revealed a lively scene. Nearly every seat filled, the open kitchen roaring, waiters scattered about, scurrying from one table to another. Nice place, I surmised. Guess it's worth the risk of getting here. I still didn't understand the hype...evidently community leaders, business people, and public officials from all over the city frequent the place regularly. Walking to the table, I glanced at some of the dishes on other tables. Seemed well enough but...what was it about this place that attracted so many powerful people in New Orleans?

And that's when I met the owner.

Cafe Reconcile is really a beautiful organization. It's tough to call it a restaurant, it's so much more than that. The group takes at-risk youth from Central City and other areas of the city and puts them to work at the restaurant, to keep them out of trouble, to teach them valuable job skills, and mentor them to keep them away from the drugs, violence, gangs, and other elements in their communities that can completely ruin their lives. Sure, this business model has its hiccups: the teens forget an occasional order, maybe drop a drink now and then. But the smiles on their faces no matter what the difficulty, no matter what the issue. Our waiter was a young kid, with bright eyes, a starched white shirt and black slacks, and the brightest white teeth, which he flashed all the time through his brilliant smile. It never faded. You couldn't get waiters this nice, polite, and kind anywhere. Really remarkable.

For the record, I had a po-boy. Dressed, of course.


I looked at other tables. Lots of professionals and executives, enjoying a home-cooked style country meal in the roughest part of town, talking it up about every which subject. Like anywhere, "the storm" was a frequent conversation topic. It always. But still, looking around at the patrons, it was quite a thing to behold, but it paled in comparison next to the sight of the hard-working kids, their heads held high, their priorities in order, all thanks to the folks behind Cafe Reconcile.

I learned something that day, something that didn't have to do with adjudicated properties or the inconsistencies of real estate databases. I learned that even in the hardest of times, in the roughest of areas, the power of mentorship, of guidance, of holding out a helping hand to those so often deprived, can defeat all those forces which work to leave life in ruined squalor. Poverty, drugs, broken families, murdered loved ones...everyone working at Cafe Reconcile has seen these horrors first hand. And when all seemed lost, an amazing opportunity arrived to help change these lives for the better, to give them a running start in the working world.

With their big smiles, those kids reminded me that we cannot turn a blind eye to the roughest part of town. We cannot simply tell ourselves, "Oh, there'll always be a rough neighborhood in the city. There'll always be poverty. So what good can we do?" There's plenty. And the cafe showed that in a very real, tangible (and delicious) form. And on a personal level, as a capitalist libertarian, I was quite happy to see a non-profit, privately funded and managed organization provide such a social service, without governmental intervention or (potential) mismanagement. But the important thing is, lives are being changed, futures are being secured, and a better tomorrow lay in store for a group of kids fortune forgot.

Zagat might find fault with a few dishes, but no one can argue that Cafe Reconcile is a real gem. de Gaulle said something that seems really apt for the place, and really, for New Orleans as a whole. So, I'll leave you with that:

It is not tolerable, it is not possible, that from so much death, so much sacrifice and ruin, so much heroism, a greater and better humanity shall not emerge.

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.

The Water is Falling -Reid Cater

How can you not feel good when the water is falling?

There are a lot of reasons not to feel good in New Orleans, especially if you have lost your home and don't have the money or experience to even begin to rebuild. Yet, there I was at a meeting for homeowners who had lost everything and I was being asked how someone could not feel good. Looking outside the window of the trailer at a former church and school, now a warehouse and headquarters for Catholic Charities' Operation Helping Hands. I began to understand what that could mean. Progress may be painfully slow, but New Orleans is healing. People are slowly finding the money and help to turn their gutted houses back into homes. Working with Operation Helping Hands through DukeEngage this summer I hope that I will be able to watch the water continue to fall and maybe pump a little out myself.

Operation Helping Hands is a division of Catholic Charities that works with homeowners of all faiths to repair and rebuild their homes. We have programs that bring in volunteers from across the country to gut houses and do exterior work, i.e. painting, as well as a rebuilding program that guides homeowners through the process of completely renovating their gutted homes. (Since I am working with them as an intern this summer I guess that I can say "we" though I don't feel like I have earned that yet.)

An hour or so into my first day I found myself dialing the number of a Katrina survivor who had called our helpline, wondering what I would say. I had been given the job of calling people back and figuring out if they fit into one of our programs. After several calls and plenty of questions for my boss I began to get the hang of the calls. Some of the the people who called in needed help gutting their homes. Gutting is the process of tearing out all the drywall and destroyed personal items in a house and it is the first step towards rebuilding. However most of the callers had gutted their homes and were ready for the next and much more difficult step of putting the "guts" back into their houses so that they could finally move home.

Helping Hands provides gutting and painting free for those in need using volunteer labor and donations. Since most volunteers are not skilled enough to wire a home or put in the plumbing and dry wall the rebuilding program focuses on putting homeowners in contact with reputable contractors (working the phones I heard several stories about contractors who literally left holes in the walls) and acting as a mediator between the homeowner and contractor during the rebuilding process. Homeowners pay for the work themselves using funds from insurance or from "The Road Home" (a convoluted, federally-funded state-run, privately adminstrated-program that seems to be widely despised). Often there is a significant gap between the cost of rebuilding and a homeowner's avaliable funds. In these cases Helping Hands tries to fill the gap with donated materials and skilled volunteers. It is my job to explain all this to people who are desperate to move back into their homes as soon as possible. If they are interested I invite them to one of our meetings where they can hear more (from people who have been with helping hands much longer) and sign up if they like the program.

At the meeting I saw dozens of people packed into a small tralier on the grounds of St. Raymond's Church which was itself flooded in the storm. Many were elderly an/or disabled and all were fighting the frustration of being out of their homes for two years. And yet, after the meeting it was one of them who reminded me that no matter how bad things were or still are here on the Gulf, the waters are falling.