week 11, post 3: broken promises, disturbing trends

Elaine and I sat in Miss Alice's office, lamenting the frustrations of the bayou people we serve: A guaranteed recipe to make people crazy is to break your promises to them. The people here are ready to go -- to put their houses back in order and go on with their lives. Small numbers of volunteers from all over the country are here and ready to help. Only the residents lack the check from their insurance companies, their checks from FEMA, and a decision from FEMA and the parish government about how high their houses must be raised (too low and they can't be insured). Once again, FEMA is the worst epithet that can be uttered down here. It is (still) the living embodiment of governmental incompetence and dishonesty. Broken promises abound. Think your insurance company is really interested in protecting you? Better have an attorney read your policies -- now -- before you need them. It's depressing.

Today at the YMCA I observed a large, older woman and the petite, slender desk attendant in conversation. The older woman was giving away biscuits -- to the young attendant. The woman acknowledged in her rich, melodic Cajun accent that she just couldn't make a small recipe -- she'd raised nine kids after all. I love the accents (there are several Cajun accents, depending on which bayou you're from, or if you're from, God forbid, up by Lafayette or over by Lake Charles). I'm just starting to hear the nuances, and I enjoy them a lot.

I've noticed two disturbing trends in my activity lately: not getting my exercise and working on my day off. I strained a muscle in my back today at the Y and can't do what I'd been doing for months. Bummer. But more a matter of concern is that it means I'm slipping back into a midwestern value set -- and abandoning Cajun-ness. Aiee!