I have become acclimatized this semester to writing about a lack of water and the negative impact it can have on the environment and our livelihood. More than two years ago in New Orleans, however, a lack of water might have been welcome.
Though the flood waters in New Orleans have long receded, they have left their mark there. Some marks will fade with time. Some marks will be left forever.
It was harder for me to see the long-term effects of Katrina in the downtown area since I had never been to New Orleans before, but I couldn't argue with the acres and acres of fields that once held hundreds of people's homes in the areas nearer to water. It was surreal to stand on the steps of a house, which were the only remaining part, and then turn around and see a levee just a few hundred feet away.
As I stood in the ruins left by Katrina, my mind was filled with questions. Why did this happen? Who was responsible for these levee breaches? Why didn't more people evacuate? Where are the people who used to live here? Why can't they come home? I am sure that these questions have all been asked before, and some, I'm sure, have been answered. Yet they still plague my thoughts. I felt sorrow and anger, and I wanted to help, but I felt helpless.
The word helpless does not describe everyone we met in New Orleans however. There were many visions of devastation but there were also those of hope and renewal. There are people that are working to rebuild and renew New Orleans. They are nurses, volunteers, church-goers, and even a few thousand ophthalmologists. Yes, there are people working, but there is much work to be done.
New Orleans is not suffering from a drought of water, but it is suffering a drought. New Orleans needs people and funds to rebuild and regain its previous status. New Orleans is suffering from a drought of resources.
The flood is gone, but the drought remains.