Dauphine

Rituals

Dripping, soaking, and steaming I stand not knowing if my shirt is wet with rain or sweat. Independence Street emits a heat after a mid afternoon shower that makes me question everything I know about meteorology, because in New Orleans it rains when the sun shines. But for that brief moment during the rain this city cools down and the people slow down. The other residents and I seem to accept the event as ritual. Through this ritual act we are able to recognize not only the act of raining, but through experiencing flooded streets we understand that the water leads back to the river. From behind the levees we cannot experience the Mississippi, but we can those rivers of run off after the rain. Yet somehow the river emits a force beyond the walls that reaches into every crack, and its presence is enough to assert meaning into the lives of people and into my life.
Having grown up on the flood plains of the Green River I know the smell of water, fish, mud, and pollution. I love that smell and whenever I get the chance I ride my bike to the river walk so that I can breathe in a little of home. Yet in doing this, the sensation of smelling becomes my way of ritualizing the river, like some who fish along its banks, and others who write music about it. I’ve yet to exchange fishing stories so for now, I listen to those told in lyrics, and played through instruments.
Water flows out of the music here. If you want to understand the relationship between New Orleans and water then turn on the radio or walk down the street and listen through the open doors. In the late afternoon when riding down Burgundy nearly every house emits music, and on Independence our neighbors down the street play theirs for everyone, every day. Memphis is the only other place that I’ve been to with similar qualities. However, blues acts as their conduit. Strangely enough blues are played in Memphis while you can see the river, yet in New Orleans jazz is played even though you can’t. Therefore people here don’t rely on the condition of seeing in order to create something because here the water is all around, in the humidity, during the rain, and through a sweat soaked shirt. It is not to say that it is better or worse, only that each sound is a response to local conditions across seemingly similar fields.
In such thick conditions, both theoretically (i.e., water as ritual and force) and literally (i.e., humidity) layers of meaning surrounding water are uncovered through subtle reactions to its presence. The river and the rain act as both friend and enemy. I appreciate the river now because I haven’t been here when it has flooded, I appreciate the rain now because it has only rained enough to cool me off and slow me down. I’ve yet to be forced to react to it, though I recognize how others have by listening to their songs.