African Women Voices
Goodbye New Orleans!
You filled me with wonderful music, you entertained my ears and mood with trumpets, sax and all your magical golden instruments, with the screaming crowds and sexy jazzes.
Don’t get it personal if I say I didn’t quite appreciate the sticky feeling on my dark skin. That feeling you can only get in such a humid place. I have to say you saved yourself by pouring some rain on my curls.
Some personal advices from one who doesn’t understand the first thing about urban architecture? Get some pedestrian traffic lights and why not, maybe also some more grocery shops in those antique quarters of yours.
Speaking about antiquity, thanks for reminding me that everything was conceived in your womb. Just to mention one: jazz. Your all culture is based on what slaves from Congo brought in what is now their square. Is it a case Congo square is just a stone thrown from your oldest African-American quarter, Treme? Love the name by the way. I’m sorry I couldn’t quite enjoy it as in the famous TV series, but I did steal as many music memories as I could: the young guys practicing in Armstrong Park and fighting over the best choice to make for drummers; the blues red-headed singer in the empty bar; the charming quartet in Frenchmen Street…
Take good care of ya