Louisiana On My Mind

Politicians and newscasters say it all the time: the world is shrinking, becoming more and more interdependent; big events now affect us all.

This is true, but while I watch the evening news from the comfort of my couch, or -- more likely these days -- read it on my computer screen, I rarely feel affected.

But Hurricane Gustav has made me feel, and I have travel to thank for that.

With the approach of the storm, media coverage focused on New Orleans. Since Gustav's passing, the coverage has mostly seemed to focus on that city's near miss with the hurricane. There hasn't been a whole lot of national attention focusing on the parts of Louisiana that really were hit.

Looking at a map of the storm's path, however, uneasiness overcame me. My stomach sank and my heart skipped. Not even three months ago, I was in that part of the state. It was just at the end of June that I went road tripping through Cajun Country.

And so, with the help of Google, I've been trying to follow the news of hurricane damage down there. And I've also passed a good deal of time simply wondering what befell the good-hearted, friendly, and funny people I met while there. As far as I can tell, most of them are still without electricity.

And sadly, Mulates, a dance hall where I dined and laughed and listened to music is now closed. Its roof was blown away.

That means that my business card, which I tacked into a wooden beam just like thousands had done before me, was probably blown away, too.

And I know that this tiny loss of mine, this loss of a small piece of myself that I left behind in Cajun Country, is nothing compared to the losses the people who actually live there are dealing with.

But still, I'm going to hold on to my silly little business card loss for a while longer. It helps me feel connected to my fellow human beings.