A Romantic Refugee — BigsBlogs

As my first five months here gently draw to a close, it made sense to write a summary of my experiences in NOLA and reflect on my time here.

First I'd like to retread the reasoning for why I came here in the first place and see it it still holds true. Most, if not all of the expats I had met here were hot on the heels of a NOLA native - and almost exclusively men chasing women. These people are generally referred to as 'romantic refugees.' For me there was no such dusky temptress. Ultimately it was an opportunity to see if it was possible to build a new wing of my life 4000 miles away from home and to achieve a relative level of success in doing so. But, like many before and after me, I've come to terms with the fact that I am also something of a romantic refugee. Except I somehow managed to fall in love with a city, not a person.

It was pretty much love at first sight. I still remember the visceral sensation of driving across the bridge over the mirror flat, heat hazed surface of Lake Pontchartrain. Watching wide eyed as the city gently unveiled herself to me. It felt, as it still does now sometimes, like I was driving in a lucid dream. Entering the city, I gawped at giant palms bracing her sleepy neighborhoods. I cooed at the lush, alien vegetation shading her beautiful shotgun houses. Each of them bursting with an array of luscious, kaleidoscopic colours that gave them an almost edible quality. It felt like a city designed by someone who was having the best day of their life.

I had already decided that I wanted to live here before Tommy had met me at the bar I had installed myself at on Magazine Street. It took no more than two hours here to completely change the direction of my life. I'd barely seen any of the city and, as I'd discover later, I'd seen a fairly unexciting slice of the place at a relatively dull time of year. On reflection, I suppose that's what love really is. An irrational attraction predicated by a strong gut feeling telling you that you somehow want nothing more in the world than to be with that person (or place apparently). Love almost always forces you to take brave, sometimes foolish leaps into the unknown that are often based on scant prior information.

It's been five months now and I've had some time to digest this place. Giddy infatuation has blossomed into a deeper, broader more mature cluster of emotions. I've had time to absorb her wonder and to despair at her deep, galling flaws. No article summarising this city could omit them. The tragedies of this city are sadly as much part of it as its delights. For many people in the black community I've worked with and met here, there is a feeling of hopelessness. The poverty and murder rates here would make some African warlords blush with envy and the trends are getting worse. Last Saturday alone there were thirteen gun related deaths. In London that would be an unprecedented epidemic. Here that's just a bad weekend.

New Orleans is now the most incarcerated part of the most incarcerated state in the most incarcerated country in the world. One in three black men in America will be imprisoned during their lifetimes, versus one in seventeen for whites. The stats are even worse at the local level here. That's staggering in unto itself. When you also take into account that New Orleans is also the current murder capital of America and pretty high on the global rankings too- just leapfrogging past Kingston, Jamaica. You have to wonder, why on earth would you live in such a place?

The simple fact is that as an educated white male, I'm far less likely to be on the wrong end of these statistics and can turn something of a blind eye to it if I want to. I am less likely to go to go to jail and receive unfair treatment by the justice system if I did commit a crime. I've not been stopped once by the police here. Nor have I been the victim of gun violence because I live in a relatively safe area.

The point is that one's experiences of this city can be completely different depending on your economic circumstances. It's a city of extremes, even more so than London. For every act of unspeakable cruelty I've heard about, I hear or see individuals going far out of their way to be kind, generous, loving and neighbourly. This place feels so incredibly human. Sometimes I look at her vast embarrassment of potholed roads and warped pavements and feel like the city is literally writhing in agony for all that she suffers though.

My ongoing work with Propeller has helped me understand the underlying economic issues facing this city. How they are bred out of centuries of institutionalised racism. Propeller's mission of empowering people in minority communities to become successful business owners is really only beginning. But I'm still hopeful for the future and what they can achieve here. My team at Propeller are some of the most brilliant, insightful, driven, talented and dedicated I've ever worked with. There have already been so many success stories and I expect there will be many, many more to come.

One of the reasons I left the world of banking was because I took a look at pretty much everyone in management all the way up to the top of totem pole and realised that I had little to no respect for any of them. The thought of becoming one of them made me somewhat nauseous and I knew that I needed to take more drastic action than simply switching to another financial institution or area of finance.

Fortunately Propeller has been everything I hoped for and more. This job has given me a chance to use the experience I garnered over five years in banking and actually make a clear and tangible difference for small, growing businesses that are themselves re-writing the rules of enterprise in this city. I've learnt so much over the last few months but it only feels like the beginning of an even greater endeavour. I'm so immensely proud of the ventures I have supported and I look forward to being part of their journey for many more years to come.

Tommy (left) who I have a great deal to thank for

Pedicabbing also turned out to be an unexpected but fulfilling turn in my career. I certainly think I'm the first ever banker to become one as his first job after he leaves the industry. I'm very grateful for it as It saved me from almost certain penury. I hadn't received any income for four months by the time I started so the wolves were scratching the door a bit. On top of that the job got me into reasonable shape and introduced me to the pedicabbing network. A diverse and well plugged in group of people who come from all over America and beyond. Each of them had pretty fascinating stories to tell about how they came to be here. Unsurprisingly quite a few of them are here because they were chasing a woman from NOLA. I'm beginning to think this is a deliberate strategy devised by the Tourist Bureau.

Pedicabbing also gave me the opportunity of meeting just about every kind of American (and sadly Australian) out there. I've learnt more about the average American than I would have on a three month road trip around the country by doing this job. There have been so many wonderful moments and stories which would be a small novella unto themselves. The most important takeaway for me is that 99% of the people in this country are good, honest people. The ones who voted for Trump are not all knuckle dragging racists (although there were a few). I've met scores of kind, generous and well meaning folks who got scammed by that slimy orange bastard. They are only really guilty of ignorance and misplaced hope that this man would suddenly make all of their problems disappear.

On that note I'm also glad I'll be nowhere near the UK during Brexit talks. While Donald Trump is a dangerous clown, it's important to remember that presidents are on four year terms with a lot of checks and balances. Brexit, sadly, is more or less permanent and I firmly believe that the British government is very brazenly trying to fuck the country for generations to come. At this rate the chances of the UK having any kind of deal by the end of the two year negotiation look about as high as me marrying Jennifer Lawrence.

Also lucky to have had such a fab flat mate. Although she doesn't ready my blog posts.

Another pleasant surprise was how one's status as an expat affords you a great deal more social flexibility than back home. Although I am very fortunate to be a beneficiary of Britain's class system through my education, I had grown quietly frustrated with its limitations. I was fed up with finding myself involuntarily prejudicing others before I'd even gotten to know them. The same applied in reverse. Having a posh accent seems to give about 95% of the UK the instant licence the think you're a total wanker. And sometimes for good reason, quite a few public school educated children are knobs (for American readers - public means private in the UK. I still forget why).

Here I felt less anchored to any one social group and have formed friendships based on personality and interests, not family heritage, schooling or wealth. I've been lucky enough to befriend hot dog vendors, artists, waiters, chefs, musicians, farmers, street performers, pedicabbers, tarot card readers, poets, filmmakers, exotic dancers, politicians, bankers, doctors and even a lawyer or two. This is a land blessed with an endless diaspora of personalities and stories and it's such a great pleasure learning so much from everyone I've had the privilege of meeting here.

Of course, there are plenty of snobby, Waspy places in America and in NOLA that really do care about that sort of thing. Even here, most initial conversations between locals will gravitate around which high school they went to. Nevertheless, NOLA just seems a little bit less preoccupied and stuck up with the notion of class than back home. And I'm very grateful for it. Unfortunately race is still a bigger dividing line in America. Although New Orleans, by Southern standards at least, is one of the least racist areas in the region. But that still doesn't help bridge the enormous economic divide that exists between races in America as a whole.

Aside from this, my various endeavors are also beginning to bear fruit. My clandestine film screening venture Caravan Cinema NOLA finally had a successful event. The first two were plagued by serious technical difficulties which thankfully didn't matter so much as the turnout wasn't exactly stellar. They certainly weren't outright failures, but not quite what I'd hoped for. The third screening attracted around sixty people and the discussion of systemic racism in the justice system afterwards led to some of the most candid and heartbreaking stories I've ever heard. I hope it's only the beginning of a series of events. It's a discourse that I'm very passionate about and something that I'm going to divert more of my energies too as my career moves forward.

The financial literacy consultancy I started called Flyte also appears to be moving towards bringing in actual paying clients. The potential for good that Flyte can do in the city is immeasurable. When I was asked to do a few pro-bono sessions with the staff at a restaurant called Liberty's Kitchen, I never would have imagined that lack of financial literacy was such an enormous problem for the city, if not America as a whole. For many people it just seems to be the elephant in the room. This venture will hopefully be able to help thousands of people clear the room of their elephants and focus on living their day to day lives.

Flyte's progress also had a jolt of good fortune which was so wonderfully and typically New Orleanian in nature. At about 10pm during a particularly sweaty pedicab shift, a couple hopped into the back of my cab and we quickly began conversing. They were both in their late 50s and looked well presented and sufficiently lubricated after a night out in the French Quarter.

The man had a kindly face and a disarming, rugged charm about him. Soon we were all talking about the London restaurant scene and getting along very well. I think I'm still the only Pedicabber from the UK so I'm regarded as something as a novelty by most passengers. As the conversation progressed it dawned on me who was in the back of the pedicab. He was arguably the most successful restaurateur in the city (not going to mention him by name but feel free to guess).

"Would you like to join us for dinner, Bigbie?" His voice was gentle but had a commanding firmness to it. I couldn't possibly refuse.

Soon we were all three of us sitting down to a jovial dinner at Cosimo's in the Quarter. The whole thing felt so enchantingly surreal. This man had been at the very top of my prospecting list for Flyte. Not only had he gotten into my pedicab but we were now all having dinner together. Incidentally, the lady accompanying him was also a relatively well known actress (not giving that away either) which added to the strangeness and delight in the whole occasion. I pitched him the idea of financial literacy coaching for his front and back of house restaurant staff and he loved it. I spent much of the evening pinching myself to make sure it was actually happening.

Tennessee Williams famously said 'There are only three great cities in the United States; New York, San Francisco, and New Orleans. All the rest are Cleveland.' Having been to all three (not Cleveland), I firmly believe New Orleans stands head and shoulders above the rest. And this, despite becoming more and more familiar with its morbid underbelly. It's hard to really put your finger on what exactly makes this city truly great. Why do so many people come here to visit for a few days and end up spending a lifetime here?

Greatness is certainly derived beyond the merely physical. New Orleans is a truly beautiful city but there are many more that eclipse even its seductive shotguns, mansions, parks and general weathered charm. It has a rich culture and history. For a time it was the second busiest port in America. But then again, Munich is rich in history. And I don't hear many people clamoring to get there in a great hurry.

Find me something that isn't a festival here

What this city has that so many others lack is pure, unadulterated soul, built deep into its DNA. The ability to conjure magical moments that are uniquely of this place and could not happen anywhere else on earth. A million weird and wonderful anecdotes are born here every day. It has the capacity to celebrate and enjoy every moment that life gives you as though it were all suddenly going to end at any time. Even death is an excuse for a party. I believe the chief component of this soul is derived from the people who live here or gravitate here and call this place their home.

There is an openness and generosity of spirit here that I have scarcely seen anywhere else. Everyone in my neighbourhood waves hello and smiles. Asking someone how their day is will doubtless lead to a twenty minute conversation. If there's booze around, it may well take longer than that. There are few things New Orlinians seem to like more than conversation, especially in the presence of alcohol. I've lost count of the moments here that have left me tingling with joy. Again, I could probably fill a novella with them and I've only been here five months.

From my experience, any place that has suffered through great tragedy conversely produces the kindest and most generous people. Cambodia, Colombia, Iran, Burma all have histories steeped in blood and tears. New Orleans very much belongs to that same club of peoples that have suffered loss on such an unprecedented scale. But they have done more than just survive. This city has been reborn and continues to flourish. It remains a city that punches well above its weight on a global scale. How many other cities are so recognisable around the world with populations lower than 400,000? Not many.

As an aside, I'm also conscious of the fact that I have not been a resident of here for long means that I have no opportunity to bemoan, as locals tend to, the negative ways that their city has changed over a long period time. Natives will always feel that their city is gentrifying too rapidly for their liking. Unfortunately I can only bear witness to the NOLA I know and still love. But I can at least sympathise. One of the reasons I left London was my dislike for the way that it was gentrifying and becoming a playground for billionares. If New Orleanians think their city is running away from them they should come and see what's happened to Shoreditch.

I had thought that five months here would have caused me to yearn for London and I would return there permanently, begging for forgiveness. Unfortunately all my time here has taught me is that perhaps being born and raised in a place doesn't not mean it is where you will eventually spend the majority of your life there. I've learnt that London is not the be all and end all of the world. And if Brexit goes the way I expect it to then it its position as one of the greatest cities in the world may be in jeopardy.

When I look at London I still see the world's most open, dynamic and cosmopolitan city. But I also see a field of empty luxury skyscrapers, grumpy commuters, sweaty tube trains, exorbitant rail fares, events that get sold out before the tickets are available online, journeys taking more time than the night out itself, City boys being utter twats and Theresa May. I feel very little for it still and it usually takes about half an hour after landing at one of its array of terrible airports to be reminded of how frustrating a place London can be.

I have two weeks to go before I leave and I'm already beginning to mourn my departure from this city. Even now, I still find my heart fluttering at her glowering gas lamps, lighting her quiet historic neighbourhoods. I'll miss the weather, which never seems to do anything in half measures, just biblical proportions. The stunning array of verdant hues on her sprawling live oak trees after a storm. I'll miss the enormous skyscapes. I'll miss my scooter Guinevere, who now looks like a victim of serious domestic abuse after a succession of minor and more major road incidents. I'll miss my friends here and Skylar (the house dog). Without all of them my experiences would have been very different.

In some ways I feel that I'm still as childishly in love with this place as I was when I first came here. I suppose that's also part of the process of loving something or someone. Getting to know a place is a lot like getting to know a person. If you can still love it after you've born witness to its deeper flaws and foibles then I suppose it really is for you. So, in summary, it looks like I'll continue to be a romantic refugee here for some time to come. I can just about live with that.