Last year, as Hurricane Gustav was bearing down on the Louisiana coast, I set down my thoughts about Hurricane Katrina, which happened four years ago today. For those who missed it, here are links to my Reflections on Katrina.
Read PART 1
Read PART 2
Read PART 3
Still as real and as surreal as it was on August 29, 2005.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Meanwhile, back at LSU...
Today was the first day of classes at LSU. I left the house at 6:50 am, and arrived home at 6:10 pm. NOT my idea of fun! This is because my schedule has me teaching at 10:40 every day and until 4:30 every day except Fridays (when I get to leave at 3:30, woo hoo!) I will miss having Fridays off, but then, I don't have Mr. Scheer to arrange my schedule like he did for the last two years :-)
I've already met three of my classes and the biggest challenge so far seems to be Moodle, the online course "assistant" which would be fired if it was a human being. No one I've talked to likes it, neither faculty nor students. Oh, for the days of Semester Book!
I hope to be signing a lease tomorrow for an apartment on the LSU busline, so this traffic/parking nightmare will soon be a thing of the past!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
It's not the heat, it's the humidity
It's no secret that I despise Louisiana weather. Baton Rouge has a single forecast for July, August, and September: Low - 74ºF (23ºC), High - 93ºF (34ºC), thunderstorm between 3:00 and 4:00 pm. The only time it is bearable is between 7:30 and 8:30 in the morning, when the sun starts to burn off some of the morning humidity and the heat of the day hasn't hit yet. The humidity is usually as high as it can be for the temperature which makes the summers unbearable and the winters bone-chillingly cold. The best time to visit is in Mar
ch/April, when there are also fresh Louisiana strawberries (!).
The thing I hate most about the humidity is the effect it has on my hair. And so I got a Louisiana friendly 'do -- don't be shocked when you see me on campus!
There is one advantage: most women look at least 10-15 youngers because the high humidity is good for the skin!
ch/April, when there are also fresh Louisiana strawberries (!).The thing I hate most about the humidity is the effect it has on my hair. And so I got a Louisiana friendly 'do -- don't be shocked when you see me on campus!
There is one advantage: most women look at least 10-15 youngers because the high humidity is good for the skin!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
No photos allowed...
Yesterday in my continuing hunt for decent living quarters, I was required to obtain my own background check for an apartment complex. One used to go downtown to the Baton Rouge Police Station to do this. Now it seems you have to go out to EBRPP, the East Baton Rouge Parish Prison, a low building surrounded by bail bond companies across from the Baton Rouge Metro Airport, where the gravel parking area was full of potholes, puddles and people just hanging around waiting for rides.
I checked in at the guard post and told the rather jovial deputy there that I needed a criminal background check on myself. "Why?" he asked, with just a hint of a smile. "Are you a criminal?" He continued his joking manner when I presented my Iowa driver's license as proof of ID. "Oh, well, IOWA... now that's a different matter altogether." He sent me back to my car, because you are permitted to take only your car keys, a photo ID and cash into the prison. Anything else is considered contraband. When I returned from stowing my purse and other belongings in the trunk (after all there were lots of people hanging around the parking lot waiting for rides), I entered the prison. I passed through security and proceeded to a rather large, minimally air-conditioned room to wait for my background check.
About 20 people were waiting, and I thought "This is going to take forever." Baton Rouge is about 60% black so I wasn't surprised that there were only four white people in the waiting room. Most of the people waiting were overweight moms with kids ranging from babes in arms to about seven. The boys without exception were wearing Nike Air Jordan athletic shoes, and the moms were wearing Payless specials. One little boy about three had his hair in cornrows and looked like he'd grow up to play football for LSU. A little girl was still wearing her school uniform and had multiple ponytails with lots of color coordinated bows.
So we're waiting and there's strangely very little conversation. I shared a lot of smiles with the young mothers and their carefree children. Then the deputy from the guard post came in and read off a list of names. After each name, a woman and her family would stand up and follow the prison guard out into the courtyard. Only then did I realize these folks were not here for their criminal background check as I was. They were there to visit their brothers/boyfriends/husbands/loved ones in prison. A half hour later they returned, some with eyes red with tears.
In the meantime, the people who worked behind the presumably bullet-proof glass of the bonding and criminal background check office were suffering as much as we were, and a janitor brought each one of them a long sheet of paper towel to wipe their sweaty brows. Eventually I got the official document showing that I have a clean criminal record (at least in Louisiana!) and left the prison just in time for the three o'clock thunderstorm. The ubiquitous deputy offered to escort me back to the guard post under his big green umbrella, which was useless against the pelting rain. By the time I reached my car I was soaking wet. But the impressions of the day cannot so easily be washed away.
I checked in at the guard post and told the rather jovial deputy there that I needed a criminal background check on myself. "Why?" he asked, with just a hint of a smile. "Are you a criminal?" He continued his joking manner when I presented my Iowa driver's license as proof of ID. "Oh, well, IOWA... now that's a different matter altogether." He sent me back to my car, because you are permitted to take only your car keys, a photo ID and cash into the prison. Anything else is considered contraband. When I returned from stowing my purse and other belongings in the trunk (after all there were lots of people hanging around the parking lot waiting for rides), I entered the prison. I passed through security and proceeded to a rather large, minimally air-conditioned room to wait for my background check.
About 20 people were waiting, and I thought "This is going to take forever." Baton Rouge is about 60% black so I wasn't surprised that there were only four white people in the waiting room. Most of the people waiting were overweight moms with kids ranging from babes in arms to about seven. The boys without exception were wearing Nike Air Jordan athletic shoes, and the moms were wearing Payless specials. One little boy about three had his hair in cornrows and looked like he'd grow up to play football for LSU. A little girl was still wearing her school uniform and had multiple ponytails with lots of color coordinated bows.
So we're waiting and there's strangely very little conversation. I shared a lot of smiles with the young mothers and their carefree children. Then the deputy from the guard post came in and read off a list of names. After each name, a woman and her family would stand up and follow the prison guard out into the courtyard. Only then did I realize these folks were not here for their criminal background check as I was. They were there to visit their brothers/boyfriends/husbands/loved ones in prison. A half hour later they returned, some with eyes red with tears.
In the meantime, the people who worked behind the presumably bullet-proof glass of the bonding and criminal background check office were suffering as much as we were, and a janitor brought each one of them a long sheet of paper towel to wipe their sweaty brows. Eventually I got the official document showing that I have a clean criminal record (at least in Louisiana!) and left the prison just in time for the three o'clock thunderstorm. The ubiquitous deputy offered to escort me back to the guard post under his big green umbrella, which was useless against the pelting rain. By the time I reached my car I was soaking wet. But the impressions of the day cannot so easily be washed away.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Tell me a story...
When I set off to Austria in September 2007, I wanted to accomplish three things:
1) improve my German
2) discover if I could actually "live" in Austria
3) figure out what I want to be when I grow up
The easiest decision was #3. After a month or so of doing academic research, I realized that I don't need to be a professor at a high-powered research university to be happy. I'd much rather stand before a class of students and tell stories, and if that doesn't earn me the big bucks, well, I've proven that I can live comfortably on less than €1000 a month ($1300-1400 depending on the exchange rate). While I don't want to do academic research, I do want to write. So when I'm not at school I will be working on stories that have rattled around in my brain for far too long.
Integrating into the culture (#2) depends a lot on communication (#1). The first year in Austria all of my friends were either native English speakers, teachers of English, or people in the Enns Valley who spoke dialect nearly exclusively. It was frustrating to understand only 40% of the conversation.
What a difference a year makes! The adult English classes in Aigen gave me a chance to get to know people my own age who understood that communicating in a foreign language is difficult. I helped them with their English, and they helped me improve my German (or at least my Stoansteirisch!) I no longer sit silently in the corner because I can't follow the conversation. In fact, I might even tell a story or two!
1) improve my German
2) discover if I could actually "live" in Austria
3) figure out what I want to be when I grow up
The easiest decision was #3. After a month or so of doing academic research, I realized that I don't need to be a professor at a high-powered research university to be happy. I'd much rather stand before a class of students and tell stories, and if that doesn't earn me the big bucks, well, I've proven that I can live comfortably on less than €1000 a month ($1300-1400 depending on the exchange rate). While I don't want to do academic research, I do want to write. So when I'm not at school I will be working on stories that have rattled around in my brain for far too long.
Integrating into the culture (#2) depends a lot on communication (#1). The first year in Austria all of my friends were either native English speakers, teachers of English, or people in the Enns Valley who spoke dialect nearly exclusively. It was frustrating to understand only 40% of the conversation.
What a difference a year makes! The adult English classes in Aigen gave me a chance to get to know people my own age who understood that communicating in a foreign language is difficult. I helped them with their English, and they helped me improve my German (or at least my Stoansteirisch!) I no longer sit silently in the corner because I can't follow the conversation. In fact, I might even tell a story or two!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Biscuits for Breakfast!
Will y' look at dem dere biscuits?!
Until I find an apartment I'm staying with dear friends in the Baton Rouge area. Yesterday morning I woke up to fresh, flakey southern-made biscuits, which we ate with homemade apricot jam -- from Vienna! I guess that's what you'd call a cross-continental breakfast!!
Until I find an apartment I'm staying with dear friends in the Baton Rouge area. Yesterday morning I woke up to fresh, flakey southern-made biscuits, which we ate with homemade apricot jam -- from Vienna! I guess that's what you'd call a cross-continental breakfast!!
Saturday, August 15, 2009
SHIFTING GEARS
"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."
No, Toto, we're in Baton Rouge, Looziana. And the intended blog audience (blog-ience?) has shifted from my friends and family in the States to my friends and "family" in Austria. Still providing cross-cultural insights and hoping to entertain with pictures and stories, but now focusing on life on the Mississippi (with apologies to Mark Twain).
How I ended up back in Baton Rouge is an epic tale, as twisted as Austrian bureaucracy. Suffice it to say that my visa ran out and I returned to Iowa in July. Luckily, LSU had generously granted me a two-year leave of absence so I had a job to come back to in the middle of an economic crisis. I drove to Louisiana this past week in a newly acquired 2005 Chevy Cobalt, and am currently gearing up for the fall semester which starts August 24.
Because I don't want to lose contact with anyone, I've updated my email, Skype, Facebook, cell phone at right. As for my address, I can send you my Post Office Box number on request!
Good to see all my friends again, and I'm counting the days until Christmas break!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Update coming soon...
All about what I learned during my two years in Austria, my return to the land of round doorknobs, and buying a car that will take me to Louisiana next week!
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