quiet in new orleans

it seems quieter than usual here in new orleans. last year, post katrina, there was a sense that carnival had to happen, that if it didn't new orleans would be giving in, giving up. this year, that urgency seems to have succumbed to the reality of a slower than expected recovery and the now permanent removal of a large percentage of the population to new cities, new jobs, new lives. but, those who have decided to stick out here are making a big difference. there are small signs of recovery everywhere and while i hear lots of complaining it is happening pretty much the way i would have expected it to happen here. new orleans is famous for it's own special style, it's own special sense of time and the pace and pattern of rebuilding seems to be no exception. most obviously, the ubiquitous crosses spray painted on practically every building that marked when the building had been searched for survivors and dead have been painted over with fresh, sometimes brighter colors. the high water mark that, like a giant conceptual art project, sliced through the entire city is visible only occasionally. there is a patter of hammers, the hiss of nail guns, and piles of remodeling debris, demonstrating a commitment to new orleans' future. the city government, on the other hand, is struggling. while private homes and businesses are being revived, things a simple as traffic lights simply don't work. the famous st. charles streetcar line is inoperable. just weeks ago, the city hired a private firm to clean the french quarter (in the nick of time for carnival) because the city couldn't handle it and now federal agents are at work tackling crime. it might be time for the city to press the reboot button. as ususal, however, none of this seems to deter revelry, which though it seems a bit less intense this year, is nonethless spirited and unstoppable.