Evasive Answers

As I sit and reflect on the past week, I am trying to replay all of the words, actions, and emotions that being in New Orleans with such an amazing group of people manifested. I just got off the phone with my mom, calling to see how the week went and if we made it home safely, and all she could say is that I sounded different. Although I tried to answer all of her questions about the trip to my best ability at the time, I still got the “Nicole, you’re sounding evasive” comment, and she proceeded to ask if I was sick, or in love. And although my body may be sick and my heart full of love, I guess this just goes to show how hard it is to just translate back into real life and to articulate into simple phrases how your week of unexplainable experiences affected you right away.

Upon arriving in New Orleans for the second spring break in a row, I thought to myself “Why am I here and what exactly has changed since the last time I was here?” The answer to that question was gradually answered over the course of the week, but what I knew upon entering the journey is that something inside of me had been changed from last years trip, and that I was here again because I was driven by that experience to want to use my time away from school and work to better the life of another in some way, even if only one person was touched by my being there to help … it was somehow worth it. Throughout the week, I worked on two different construction sites of homes that were destroyed, two different wildlife preserves that had been affected by the storm, and an elementary school full of children who lives were affected and are still being affected by the Hurricane Katrina. In all of these activities, I realized the one thing that had not changed since the last time I had been down here was the undying gratefulness and appreciation that the citizens of New Orleans express to the volunteers who are here to help them. I had an innumerable amount of thank yous and hugs, and had lunch bought and made for me and the other volunteers. These people extend so much love and gratitude that it is hard not to form an emotional bond toward them and the work you are doing for them. It’s not hard to see how much these people have been through either, just look into their eyes when they speak about the experience of the storm that they lived. Their eyes have seen things that human beings should never have to see ... and it shows. They have seen their precious homes, their belongings, their memories, and all of their history destroyed in deep pools of toxic floodwater. They have seen dead bodies of family members, friends, neighbors, and pets floating in the ruins of their own town. They have seen the injustice of our own government first hand and are still living the consequences of it today. Peering into the eyes of these people and seeing all of this, while all I can hear is them pouring out their gratitude to us is honestly mind-boggling. I can’t understand how they still have so much love, and thanks, and hope to give.

Maybe once I wrap my mind around this idea I can start being less evasive, and more expressive about my week. Until then I am speechless and humbled by the experience of these people, and their actions, and their stories. Each year I return from New Orleans, I return with a new perspective of the world and a better appreciation for preciousness of life itself.

-Nicole Salvo

March 31, 2008 @ 11:22 AM