The Crescent City is always the happening place to be, but even more so during the Mardi Gras season. When you hit the French Quarter in early spring, it’s time to take off your sunglasses and put your head on a swivel. You’re going to see things you never imagined.
People downing 32 ounce “hand-grenades” at 10:30 in the morning? Check. Body painters? Check. The naked cowboy who strums his guitar while posing with underage girls? Sure.
Ironically, Saturday is the “rest day” when party-goers are nursing hangovers and trying to find their keys, cars, cell phones, wallets and clothes lost in the previous evening’s parties. Saturday is an excellent day to walk the streets of the French Quarter, gorging on beignets from Café Du Monde and haggling with market vendors over knock-off sunglasses. People are dressed head to toe in leather, sporting cow costumes and showing as much skin as possible in string bikinis. Policemen on horseback attempt to control the massive throng of people, while parade goers weave in and out of the barricades, frantically grabbing beads off the ground before the next float rolls past.
Nude bars sit adjacent to the local mask shop, and across the street is a very “untraditional New Orleans” Urban Outfitters shop. Every few steps brings a new wave of sound to your ears.
One minute, its rap blaring out of the daiquiri club. The next minute, you’re jamming out to the local brass band that popped up on a stage in the middle of nowhere. The band is singing “Chili-Willie, pop pop! I like popcorn, and pickles!” while three representatives from the local church are carrying a cross and bearing signs warning all sinners of their “imminent” trip to hell.
When you turn on to Bourbon, it’s as if you’ve entered a completely new world, a wild one even for New Orleans’ standards. The first thing noticeable is that there is more skin showing, and you’re not sure if it’s a man or a woman. But hey, it’s Mardi Gras, and you can dig it.
Random groups of people crowd in front of balconies where a lucky few get to decide who gets what pair of “exotic” beads and what they have to do to get them. Every other bar is a gay one; strangers are dancing with each other, never getting each other’s name, just having a good time.
There are even more people crowding curb to curb on Bourbon, and you have to shoulder your way through the by-standers, all the while taking in the sights, sounds and smells.
All the buildings look the same. Old thyme, two-storied, brick structures stand tall above the crowds with their familiar-looking green poles running from the sidewalk up the balcony where the fortunate few look down upon the drunkards while they sip their morning Bloody Marys.
At the end of Bourbon, it’s again as if you’ve entered another world. Two turns off of the famed street finds you in the French Market, where artists and psysics line the street, looking for a tourist off whom to make a quick buck. This makes way into the actual market where knock-off Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses can be found by the table load. One vender keeps watch over 15 feet of merchandise on a table, and it would be ridiculously easy to steal anything. But no one dares, everyone’s friends at Mardi Gras.
Hemp bracelets and cheap sunglasses are all the rage, and you can find anything in Mardi Gras colors: purple, gold and green.
Outside the market are concession stands selling funnel cakes and cups of crawfish side by side. The smells waft through the air; they are so thick you can feel them on your skin when you pass by.
Sure, there are some drawbacks to Mardi Gras, but you get over it. The good times and food are worth the sore feet, confusion among large groups and empty wallets at the end of the day.
There are indeed certain parts of New Orleans where you wouldn’t bring a family of four, especially on Mardi Gras, but there are also certainly places where families are always welcome. The banks of the Mississippi River are peaceful locations for a picnic and provide an excellent view of the riverboat and The River Walk. Jackson Square is full of history and there is usually a performance in the center with amphitheater-style seating where one can get off his or her feet for a while and slow down while the hustle and bustle of the city continues around them.
Mardi Gras, because of its party-all-the-time reputation, comes with many unfair stereotypes among those who have never experienced it. An anonymous friend said to me days before I left for New Orleans, “You can’t have fun at Mardi Gras unless you’re drunk or showing your tits.” This utter fallacy is a ridiculous viewpoint and clearly shows the pure ignorance of many about other cultures. Sure, there are girls flashing skin for beads and drunken people everywhere, but not all Mardi Gras attendants are this way. I had not a sip of alcohol during the weekend and saw no breasts, and had one of the best weekends of the year. You should try it sometime.
Ben Leiker is a freshman majoring in biological engineering. He can be contacted at [email protected].