Mardi Gras

More than just boobs, booze and beads

It's America's biggest party. Everyone's heard of it; everyone wants to go. And as I sat on an airplane destined for this "sin city," this home to the famous Mardi Gras, I realized that not everyone knows much about the holiday -- other than its reputation for binge drinkers and topless girls. The surrounding conversation on the plane and the not-so-subtle disgruntled article in my New Orleans newspaper represented our ignorance -- tourists just looking for a big party.

We arrived in New Orleans Saturday, the ninth day of parades before Mardi Gras, or Fat Tuesday. Anxious to experience the pre-Mardi Gras nightlife, our small group of partygoers -- composed of two Humboldt students and two "New Orleaneans" -- chose a small bar uptown to begin our first evening. Adeptly named The Balcony, this southern bar boasted a second-floor wooden porch that sloped considerably, even frighteningly so, toward the street below. We ventured inside, and I squeezed by the young 20-somethings already donned with beaded necklaces. Sporting my practically neon orange Humboldt sweatshirt, I glanced around to see if anyone noticed the name. Usually, at least in California, the Humboldt State University name is quickly recognized. In New Orleans, I had to wait about half an hour at our first bar until the first of many Humboldt graduates picked me (and my traffic-halting sweatshirt) out.

The following day, our entourage toured the streets of the city. Characteristic of the stereotypical New Orleans landscape, enormous magnolia trees separated the streets from the gigantic plantation-style mansions strewn on each side. Spanish moss dripped from the limbs of the sprawling oak trees in well-groomed public parks.

Well groomed is what the city is after all the tourists leave. During Mardi Gras, you're supposed to just fling your garbage on the ground. The amount of garbage generated is amazing. In Arcata, we have numerous receptacles for everything: cans, paper, cigarette butts, glass, etc. These were just some of the items Louisiana convicts, in real Southern-justice style, could be seen picking up. Each side of the parade route streets was lined with barbecues and people drinking. I wanted to take a picture of the circle of rather-large people sitting in lawn chairs, sucking out the heads of spicy crawfish -- the New Orleans staple caught fresh out of the swamps. I would advise any Arcata vegetarian not to preach to these people, or to just bring a lunch. Mass quantities of ribs, chicken, beef and hot sauces could be found on or near the majority of barbecues. The leftovers are just tossed on the street -- including plastic cups and beer cans. No glass containers are allowed because of this tradition. Glass is one thing the police will definitely cite you for.

Throngs of young adult binge drinkers and exhibitionists crowd into the streets of New Orleans to collect beads, sing an sin. photo by Sarah Cladwell

The city was literally covered in green, purple and gold. Everywhere we turned -- a flag, poster, someone's outfit, or the beads on the street -- were the official colors of Mardi Gras. Rex, the King of the Carnival, chose these colors in 1872. The purple stands for justice, the green for faith, and the gold for power. These colors decorate the floats funded by the krewes (clubs) in the parades named after Greek gods. These parades are only held on weekends after the Carnival begins, Jan. 6. The week before Fat Tuesday, they begin running every day. The city has a chance to participate in and see them, as Mardi Gras is a holiday. Usually people get both the Monday before, Lundi Gras, and the following Wednesday off, too. Most of the town leaves for a five-day vacation at the first influx of tourists, our hosts explained. Apparently, had our little Humboldt group not been visiting, they would have whisked off for the end of ski season. As a result of these holidays, many things were closed.

"That was frustrating," says Aiden Costello, a Humboldt student and my traveling partner. "I wanted to see some jazz at Preservation Hall and couldn't because it wasn't open." He thought about it for a moment and decided that his trip back "should not be during the Mardi Gras season."

The French started the Mardi Gras season when they moved into Louisiana, while it was still called the New World. When it began, it was observed with masked balls and lewd street processions. The festivities became so wild that Mardi Gras celebrations were outlawed -- a decree fervently ignored by partiers. In 1823, they had no choice but to make it legal. Now, for the upper-crust older families of New Orleans, the party consists of private balls thrown by "their kind." You have to know someone (or the relative of someone) important to get invited. The general public, which included us by day, partakes in the parades of school bands and floats the krewes ride on -- flinging beads, plastic cups and coins at the screaming crowd. Evenings are famous for breast-baring ladies (Guess what the guys have to show!), drinking, dancing, a frustrating lack of public toilets, and ridiculously large crowds -- typically gathered in the old part of town, the French Quarter.

Around dusk, when the madness really begins, police officers line the French Quarter looking for something to upset the merriment. This year (with half-smiles on their faces), they watched the drinkers and dancers with mild interest. Those under the Playboy balcony kept their poker faces tipped up -- enjoying and disregarding the breast flashing for beads as minor infractions.

"There are a plethora of laws available to our officers that they could use to make arrests," says Marlon Defillo, New Orleans police spokesperson. "But we can't enforce all of them, so we advise out officers to use good judgment."

Apparently the officers did their job well though, as this Mardi Gras was the largest and perhaps the safest celebration (by far) in New Orleans for quite a while. This town of 500,000 managed to house about 1 million people during Mardi Gras and the weekend before. Those million, including us, saw none of the violence that erupted in Austin, Fresno, Philadelphia and Seattle. Mardi Gras in those areas resulted in injury and destruction, while the worst offenses in New Orleans were unabashed out-of-control exposures and problems caused by excessive drunkenness. Had the police been arresting people for being drunk in public, as they do here in Arcata, I'm afraid their jail cells would have been bursting with a million or so people.

Mardi Gras seemed to bring out the best in people. The carnival was as good natured as the partying. New Orleans is a town blatantly obvious in its wealth, but also in its dire poverty. Cross a street and the neighborhood of mansions can swiftly change into the ghetto. Marjorie Pouget, a local, warned us about walking or driving through some neighborhoods, as situations can quickly change into dangerous. However, another Humboldt student, Jack [finding the last name], told us of how he first unknowingly found himself in a minority neighborhood notorious for being unsafe. He felt though, as a white male walking on the streets, that everything was fine. Everyone was in good cheer, and no one bothered him -- except to ask if he knew anyone who wanted to park a car in their front yard for 10 bucks.

And so the Wednesday after Mardi Gras I returned home -- my appetite for alcohol thoroughly whetted; my backpack stuffed with shiny, plastic beads; my white sneakers turned black from garbage; and my heart captured by Southern culture. I had just visited a place more unique than most -- it was a city with soul. Aside from the typical tourist spots, our hosts had showed us local spots -- giving us a taste of the real New Orleans as it is 353 days of the year. Too many people, it was explained, think Mardi Gras is what New Orleans is all about. The tourists come, they party, and they leave -- all in a twelve-day period. Tuesday, promptly at midnight, street sweepers and garbage trucks proceed down Bourbon Street and clean up any trace of the revelers. (The weight of this garbage, by the way, is how the city measures how large the party was.) Those who live in New Orleans return from their five-day vacations, and the city resumes its normal activity. Mardi Gras goers are forgotten as plans are made for the next event, the New Orleans Jazz Festival.

The experience of Mardi Gras, as amazing and captivating as it is, is just one of New Orleans' celebrations. I found that what we experienced was only the preface to the culture and society of Southern Louisiana.