Dancing on the Ground
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Dancing on the ground

Who Dat?

2/23/2015

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When I first started getting to know Billy, he would tell me stories of his time as a student for a semester at University of New Orleans (UNO).  He did an exchange program with his home university with two of his other close friends.  He regaled me with stories of parades, beads, absinthe, costumes, and swamps.  I listened, my face showing my doubt.  Wasn't New Orleans a wreck?  Wasn't there a lot of crime there?  Isn't it filled with homeless criminals?  Hurricane Katrina had happened a few years ago and I remember the graphic images of damaged homes, the looting, all of the people left behind.  The images made me uncomfortable and I decided not to spend my time thinking about it.
But then I saw an article about this small town called Breaux Bridge in the heart of Cajun Country, Louisiana.  I was enchanted and told Billy that maybe I was opening up to the possibility of visiting New Orleans.  We found super cheap tickets to Baton Rouge and two days after I read about Breaux Bridge, we were booked and ready to go for a week-long stay in Breaux Bridge, New Orleans, and Houma, LA.  I fell in love with Louisiana.  Madly, deeply, passionately in love with its culture, the food, the sights, even the smells.  It was almost the same passionate response I had when I knew I was falling in love with my husband.  I left that trip transformed.  Can we go back every year, please?

And we did.  We even threw the craziest, most wonderful wedding there.  
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One day, while we were doing our wedding prep, we lunched at a small diner near the French Quarter.  On the back of the menu was printed the story of the couple who owned the diner.  One line stuck with me for several months thereafter: 
We opened up this diner because we kept coming back to this city, over and over, using all of our vacation time to do so.  It hit us.  Why not just move down here?  
Why not indeed?  Our plan was to live a part of our life in the Crescent City.  To that end, we planned a little 6 week sojourn to "test the waters," so to speak, to see if we were a good fit for the city.  We stayed in this beautiful little apartment that was part of a 150-year-old Garden District home.  We became friends with the family who lived upstairs (hailed from a 7-generation-deep family of native Louisianans).  Chris, the owner of the house and a retired lawyer, taught me how to make a traditional gumbo, fed us fish fry, opened up their Thanksgiving table to me and my family.  Took my son and husband fishing.  He welcomed us with open arms and made us a part of his family.  To date, it was by far the best AirBnb stay we have ever had.  

My mom came to visit and she babysat while I visited with my public health friends (my perpetual travel partner-in-crime, Sherrie, and my mentor/friend who feeds and guides me, Christy).  My cousin came from Colombia and stayed with us for the time we were there.  We were a few blocks away from Audobon Park.  I found an amazing yoga studio.  And the beautiful Magazine Street was half a block from our apartment.  Life really couldn't be any better, except that I gained 3 lbs on top of the 3 I gained in Mexico.  Just goes to show how good cities can make you fat.
We loved our time in New Orleans and can't wait to go back and visit but we have decided that it's not the right place for our family.  When we "settle down," we'd love for it to be in a place surrounded by nature, with a vibrant, ideologically liberal community surrounding us.  It breaks my heart to even think of it, but New Orleans can't offer all of those things for us.  Right now, it is the place where I fell deeply in love with my husband, where I promised to be with him forever, where I let my children play under the large oaks hanging with Spanish moss.  It is a perfect dream that I would hate to ruin by the banalities and trivialities of living there.  

So, as we start our 3rd year of full-time traveling, I tend to wonder a lot about the moment that I will feel that itch to have a permanent home.  We've thought about going back to Salt Lake City, since that is where our brick and mortar business is, but the winter pollution and the conservative/religious atmosphere can be oppressive.  We're also thinking about the Pacific Northwest (not too hot, not too cold), but are really open to any place in the US.  Any suggestions?

Until then, we will be in Peru, Chile, and Japan this year.  Already started on my Japanese language study with JapanesePod101.com (It's also how we learned Hungarian!  Check it out...really great resource).  
1 Comment
Christy
3/2/2015 01:59:37 pm

If I weren't in Salt Lake, I'd probably be in Portland, OR, at least in part because I probably couldn't afford San Diego. Agree that the winter pollution is the pits but will lovingly disagree about the oppressive conservatism. You just have to find your tribe.

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