Upon my arrival into the city I called home for the last four years, I had no idea what to expect. The airport was crowded, and there was cheerful music playing around every corner.

Once I left the airport, however, the lingering effects of Katrina became increasingly apparent. As we drove towards the onramp of Interstate 10 (known to all NOLA residence simple as ‘inerstate,’ the street lights weren’t working. I turned to my college roommate and asked if this was the norm. The immediate response was “you’ll see, just keep your eyes open zweebs.”

As I drove from the airport to uptown New Orleans (near Tulane University) where we would be staying, trees were down, lampposts were slanted, and more than 50% of the traffic lights were not working – not to mention the potholes. Total chaos was the only way to describe the drive. However, it must be noted that unlike some of the drivers in our home of New York, the N’wlins folks appeared patient and understand in alternating which lane would have right to pass as the drivers attempted to navigate Carrolton Ave.

Last year I lived on St. Charles Ave, right on the Mardi Gras parade rout. This afternoon, just 2 weeks removed from the festival of all festivals, St. Charles looked barren and unrecognizable without the signature trolley car transporting passengers from one end of the city to the other for the small fare of $1.25. The electric lines that power the trolley cars were damaged in Katrina, and 6 months later they have not been fixed.

I understand that my date of arrival was a Sunday, however, it was disheartening to see that NOT ONE worker was anywhere in sight fixing any of the problems I have described above.

Sickening. Unacceptable. Incomprehensible. Wrong. Thus far, my trip “home” has been a memorable one, but not for any of the right reasons. I am confident that by weeks end, I will be a part of changing the descriptive list above to one that can bring a smile to my face. Progress. Hope. Justice. Right.