New Iberia

April 18, 2022
Population: 28,965

We continued west along the Southern Louisiana coast through the land of swamps and bayous (with our first alligator sighting, right next to a strip mall), to the Chitimacha Reservation. The Chitimacha are one of four federally recognized tribes in Louisiana. I walked up to all of the tribal buildings, hoping to maybe play at their school, but all were locked and deserted. I even wandered into the maze of their tribe-operated casino to find out what the heck was going on - where was everybody? I was told that the day after Easter is a holiday and everyone is hanging out in their homes. A dead end.

Onward to New Iberia, a cute city of 30,000 with a nice downtown drag of bars and restaurants around a waterfront park. It was mid-afternoon by then. I went into a dive bar and chatted up group of middle-aged local men, who turned out to be Cajun Conservatives (according to their Instagram profiles, once we exchanged handles). They were friendly enough and I asked for advice on where to play. We checked out their recommendations but none of them felt right. I sat, dejected, in the beautiful but deserted waterfront park - I'd spent all day trying to find a place to play and all were dead-ends. What was I doing with myself, spending all this time and money on this tour and hardly having played for anyone, now four days in? Seeing I was close to tears, Joel suggested we set up in the park and play anyway - if I played some notes, I would feel less bad about myself, it would make for some aesthetic video shots, and who knows what would happen? 

Indeed, soon after I started playing, a man came up and starting dancing to my Bach. In return, he sang John Legend beautifully for me a cappella, and we performed Amazing Grace together. We then chatted - I asked if he was coming home from work, since his white collared shirt had some food stains. He told me with a “No ma’am” that he is homeless and sleeps right behind where I was playing. “You’re playing in my living room, in fact,” he said with a chuckle. He told me he got a sociology degree in college and had a basketball career, which he ruined when he got addicted to heroin, but he’s been clean 40 years. He said everyone in town knows him. We hugged and took a photo, and before we parted ways, he asked me for money. I gave him enough for dinner.