So, last night my class ended early and I wandered around canal place for a little while. After a depressing visit to Anthropologie(where even sale items are outrageously out of my budget), I ended up finding some boots on sale elsewhere. When I went to purchase them,I stumbled upon a group of women from Finland that were in town for a pharmaceutical convention. They conversed about how they were happy the convention was over and how they were ready to see the crocodiles tomorrow and visit Bourbon Street. While both of those touristy ideas could be exciting for some finnish females, I wished I had had time to give them a hand drawn map and a few lists of neighborhoods and other venues to explore. I wanted them to go back to their country in awe of this unique city (with more than photos of a crocodile and souvenir cups from their Pat O's Hurricane.) Unfortunately, I was unable to catch them to itinerize the rest of their stay.
Walking back to my steal of a parking spot, I thought I heard the far off drumbeats that often fill the air during carnival season. Once I headed down Canal, I was sure that I heard a full blown marching band. Rolling down my windows and stretching my neck out, I was excited to find just that! There they were...in the middle of November... drawing a crowd and a mini-parade behind them.There was music and dancing in the streets as if it were a holiday. I have no idea what event was being held. But, it doesn't matter really. What matters is maybe, just maybe, the Finns and other tourists of New Orleans were able to see what this city is truly about. A marching band on Canal St. might have changed just a few visitor's opinions last night. And there is another reason why I love this city.
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