Common Ground.

Landing in New Orleans was an interesting experience. Even when seen from a cab, it became apparent to me how empty the city is. Downtown seemed to be bustling, but in the outer residential neighborhoods, reminders of the hurricane were everywhere. One might see the occasional collapsed house, or a tree fallen on a roof, and nearly every house I saw still bore the spraypaint left by recovery crews.

The Upper 9th Ward is a ghost town. The houses are empty, their beaten and frayed exteriors only hinting at the devastation inside. But, on North Congress street, there's an outpost of life: Common Ground.

Upon arriving at Common Ground, it became clear that I was entering a bastion of liberals. Two men sat outside, one playing banjo, the other guitars. I was greeted at the front door by two friendly men, one with a long, tangled beard of red hair, the other a scrawny fellow with large glasses. Some people walked by without shoes. It felt good to be there.

The young man with glasses, named Erik, gave me a tour of the grounds. He showed me the Coucheteria, a circle of couches and car seats meant for lounging and group meetings. Next came the dining room, decorated with hanging colored lights and the occasional mannequin, and the kitchen, located outside, including a vegetarian/vegan kitchen housed in an orange school bus. He showed me the sleeping rooms, located on the second and third floors; I settled in the library, with a spot neighboring educational books on Louisiana, the Battle of the Bastille, and feelings, among other things.

The day carried on, and I wandered through the building. Around dinner, I ran into my old friend, Katie Murray. We sat down for dinner (generic vegetables and rice, and delicious apple cobbler), and spent some time catching up.

It's a free, communal setting. Everyone is required to sanitize their hands as often as possible, and everyone washes their own dishes and participates in chores (security, groundskeeping, and others.) Kindness is not hard to come across, and the few people I've become aquainted with are all exceedingly friendly. The daily work may be dour, but around Common Ground, the atmosphere is constantly positive.

In the evening our class met. Professor Heldman went over the rules and what to expect, and we got into our gutting crews. My team leaders gave us a rundown of the next day. It was a short meeting, and then we were left to do whatever we wanted.

Tomorrow we begin gutting. I have only the clothes on my back and my sleeping bag, so tomorrow I will have to wear some old clothes they have lying around in a free pile, and I will have to borrow boots from a fellow crew member.

I'm going to sleep soon. It's been a long day. I'll tell you how things are when I can. Thanks for reading.