After months away from home in college, every young man will crave a home cooked meal. Luckily I have a good friend with an incredible mother just one parish over. Around 1:00 am, after dealing with the NOPD (see last post), my friends Josh, Dewey, Michael and I pulled up to Josh's house on Desire street in Chalmette.
Upon entering, I was greeted by a poised and welcoming middle aged woman. This woman is Josh's mother, and she immediately made me feel at home while in her house. Over the weekend, she cooked delicious fried chicken, rice and beans, omelets, cheeseburgers, macaroni and cheese and the list goes on. She showed me the unconditional motherly sort of care that I missed so much. I came back to Loyola for the second half of the semester refueled and reenergized, as if I had gone back to my own home. This was my first true experience of "southern hospitality" and it only reflected what I had already learned about those from this part of Louisiana.
I spent some time around Chalmette, including a tour driven by Josh, which was quite interesting. Josh still considers himself from New Orleans, but Chalmette is by no means the city. He always insisted this and I never believed him, that is until I was driving to Canes and saw cows. Just down river of Arabi, Chalmette's juxtaposition to New Orleans causes Chalmations to consider themselves from the city.
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