I had my last cup of Cafe du Monde coffee this morning. My three cans, bought during a visit to New Orleans two months ago, are empty now. That day I had gone down to the French Quarter to wander around and people watch. I sat at a small table next to the sidewalk, ordered beignets and cafe au lait, and watched New Orleans go by.

Actually, my favorite time for this activity had always been around 5 in the morning. You would think that the city would be quiet at this time, but New Orleans was never quiet. It always had a particular vibe of its own. Already the open-air Cafe du Monde coffee stand would be close to filled with those who had stayed up too late, or those who had gotten up too early.

The night before, I had gone with a group of fellow reporters to Jacques-Imo restaurant on Oak Street, in the Uptown part of New Orleans, far from the tourist-laden throngs of Bourbon Street. I've long been a fan of Cajun and Creole cuisine, and this was some of the best I ever ate. Twice in the past few years, Jacques-Imo (with the wildly painted pickup truck permanently parked outside, with a flatbed occasionally used to seat people when it got really crowded inside) had won local honors for Best Comfort Food. You had to walk through the kitchen to get to your table.

On our way back to our hotel, in no particular hurry, we had our cab driver take us through the old neighborhood of the Garden District. Past beautiful old homes that were built by the "nouveau rich" of the mid-19th century, who wanted a different look than the French Quarter. Now these stately old home of the District were often cheek-by-jowl with low-income housing. It all helped create an ambience unlike any other city in America.

I can hardly bear to think that these places may be - probably are - no more. Or that my children will never get to see that great old city in the way that I did. Because while they will surely rebuild New Orleans, it won't be the same place I knew and came to love over just a few visits.

In the almost 15 years that I've been living in the US, the past few as a citizen, I have come to feel most at home in the South. Not that I hate my new hometown of Boston, or despise the hustle and bustle of New York, or the laid-back endless summer of Los Angeles. They have their charms. But the pace of life, the way people treat each other, the connection to the land (all often expressed in music and folklore)  - these were the things I missed the most when I left Nova Scotia, and the South was the place I found them in abundance.

Especially in New Orleans. Besides, New Orleans had plenty of ties to my home town of Windsor, Nova Scotia. I lived just down the street from the place where the British had all the men of Acadia gather one day in 1755 to tell them that they and their families would be sent away from the land they had settled, in order to protect England's interests in the new world. Many of them, of course, came to New Orleans and became Cajuns.

My loss, a sentimental one at best, is nothing compared to what the people of New Orleans are facing. It's as if we awoke one morning to find that Beirut from the 70s, or Banda Aceh from last year, was suddenly dropped into the middle of our country. First World becomes Third World overnight, and we are just beginning to think about how to deal with that.

Yet  allow me for a moment, in this last column that I will write for the Monitor, to reflect on a time now past. On a place like no other. On that vibe never to be heard or felt again in the same way. On New Orleans.

This is my daughter Bobbie's last posting from Senegal. Now she's on her way to Morocco:

Friday we got up early and took Andy with us on a really hot taxi ride for about an hour and a half to Lac Rose (Pink Lake). It's a lake north of Dakar that has so much salt in it it looks pink at certain times of the day. It used to look more pink than it does now because people have harvested a lot of the salt out of it.

We saw people standing in the water using these big spoons to take the layer of salt off the bottom of the lake and scoop it into the boats until they were only about a centimeter above the water. Then they took the boats over to this place on one side of the lake where there were these huge piles of salt, right on the beach--maybe 10 or more feet high. Women put the salt from the boats in baskets they put on their head and put it on the mounds of salt. They sort it into good salt, medium salt, and bad salt (which looked kind of like sand). Then they sell it.

There are natural springs there that make Lac Rose much more tree-ish than most of the other parts of Senegal we saw, which are mostly desert. I saw all kinds of plants near the springs, but other places there was just sand and a little bit of dry grass. I actually saw trees with papayas, bananas, and mangos growing, and cactuses, and palm trees.

There was also a really cool tree with seed pods that looked like fruit but were just filled with air! I found that out by stepping on one and just air came out. Mom says it's a good thing because if it was a fruit and I stepped on it she doesn't want to think about what the bottom of my shoe would look like.

There were beautiful birds down by the lake with black heads and white bodies and long legs, and there were these other tiny birds in the trees that were black and bright yellow. In the trees there were these round nests that looked like they were made by weaver birds--I think they were the yellow birds but I'm not sure. I'll have to find out.

We picked up a little salt from one of the piles and bought these really cool pictures made from Lac Rose sand, and a cow horn cup because this guy kept following us and insisting we buy one.

We went back on the loooooong taxi ride to Dakar and we went shopping! We went looking for a wooden board that Koran students write on. We went to a woodcarver workshop to get it and there were all these guys who were sitting making cool things.

There was one guy just starting working on a mask and another guy in back who had just finished a dolphin. They were chiseling it by balancing the wood piece up on an iron peg in the ground and chopping off bits on the sides. We kept walking and bought this little bus made out of flattened cans decorated just like the real buses. On the front it said ALHAMDULILLAH that means "praise be to God that we arrived safely!"

Saturday was our last day in Senegal. So we did our favorite things--Mom went to the Sandaga market shopping and I went with Andy to her sports club. We drew and read and played tennis. Later we went in the pool and had a great time! We took a taxi home and ate mangos and went out and I drank milk from a coconut--mine was brimming over even more than Andy's when he cut the top off! I didn't like it too much, though, or the jelly inside, so Mom had my milk and I gave the jelly to Andy.

We went to dinner at their friends' house. It was really nice and they had a dog who was 91 in dog years--he was really friendly and if I stopped petting him he would stand up on his hind legs and bounce up and down! We went off to the airport at midnight because the plane left at 3:30 in the morning and we had to get there early. Apparently I slept through breakfast again on the flight, says Mom.

I know I made a joke about it yesterday, but it's amazing to see how visible American pop culture is around the world. There is no place left on the planet that is safe from Mickey Mouse. Here's my daughter Bobbie's latest posting from her trip to Senegal:

On Thursday we got up early and walked a few blocks to the apartment building of a woman Mom knows. Her name is Awa and she works at The Center for West African Research. Mom gave a talk to some people there and I wrote one of my blog entries. We went to the cafe and I got a bunch of bottle caps which I have now started collecting, with all different kinds of brands and languages.

 

Then I remembered--it was MOM'S BIRTHDAY! I hugged her so much and kissed her and said "Happy 40th birthday!" I sang her the "you smell like a monkey" song all day to make up for the fact that we weren't at home where everybody could sing it to her.

 

We went to walk along the beach near the university and we saw a long sports activity trail with different activity spots spaced out along it like pushups and pullups and lots of other things. It went on for miles! We saw lots of people using it, and some guys lifting weights, too, even though it was really hot out in the middle of the day. People in Senegal are really into sports and fitness.

 

Then we walked past this big amusement park called Magic Land. We decided to go in and explore. It was really weird! It was a big mixture of every kind of ride and character from all over. The map outside was in English. It had bouncy castles, rocking bulls you had to try to stay on (I wasn't allowed to go on that); a scary house of horrors (didn't want to go in that), two carousels, a ferris wheel, a bunch of kiddy rides with cars shaped like Genie, Captain Hook, Jimmy Neutron, Barbie, Goofy and a cartoon wolf, all mixed up together. They had two different bumper cars and I went on both.

 

We kept walking down the beach and there was a place where all the fishing boats came in. It was really crowded with people eating fish, buying fish, selling fish and cutting off fish heads and tails. We saw a cat and I thought she must have a pretty good life because the boats come in every day. We saw flatfish, a guy carrying a huge fish as big as me, piles of fish sorted by size, lobsters with no claws, calamari, and huge shrimp as big as lobsters.

 

There were a bunch of shops selling wood carvings and we wanted to buy a rhino for my Uncle George's birthday. We had to go to a bunch of shops to argue about the price. They kept saying the rhino and this little elephant I liked were ebony but we didn't believe it and we were right because there was black paint all over my hand later from holding my elephant for so long.

 

Later we went to this really nice restaurant to celebrate Mom's birthday and to thank the Leite family for helping us so much and letting us stay with them. There was a beach there but it had a big fence because the currents were dangerous and there were sharks.

In which my 8 year-old daughter Bobbie discovers that even in Senegalese villages, you can find signs of American culture, like Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Kim Possible.

Today was a big shopping day. I really like shopping in Senegal but it is different from home.

First of all, it's hot, whether you're inside a shop or outside. Mostly you buy things outside--everything from rolling coffee stands where they will make you some Nescafe to peanut sellers who roast the peanuts right in front of you by mixing them in bowls of hot sand over a fire!

There are coconut guys with rolling wheelbarrows who cut off the top of the coconut with a big sharp knife so you can drink the milk straight out of it, then they slice it in half so you can eat the soft coconut jelly inside. There are people selling things spread out on mats or all over the sidewalk or from carts, women carrying things on their heads, men selling armfuls and bagfuls of fans or necklaces or masks or prayer rugs or pants and other kinds of clothes.

There are little shops with shelves up to the ceiling filled with cassette tapes, fabric, clothes, plastic stuff for the house, CDs and televisions--it seems like they were selling everything you could imagine! They recycle everything--one guy made old CDs into art, even including a toy knight with CD armor; and other people made cars and luggage and toys out of the metal from soda cans cut out and pressed flat. There were people selling statues out of wood, clay, metal, leather and paintings on glass, with sand, with cloth --I never expected there would be so many different things and so much art in Senegal--the whole city seems like one big marketplace!

We went to a big workshop with lots of people sewing and selling things made from cloth--there were pants, shirts, wrap skirts, traditional outfits called boubous, drawstring bags, backpacks, sacks to keep water bottles or other drinks cool in, big bags for drums, little tiny wallet-sized purses, huge purses like tote bags, house shoes and even baseball hats.

They were all made out of really colorful fabrics with pictures of Africa -- dancers, elephants, lions and other animals, musicians, musical instruments, abstract designs, women doing different things in the village. It was like an African rainbow of fabric!

We got some bags and some clothes and some great fabric. I'm going to use the fabric to decorate my bedroom with an African and Middle Eastern theme--now we have to buy some other things to decorate it with. We are even thinking of building an African-style bed! Mom gots lots of stuff to use for her work but I don't know how we're going to carry it home.

After buying everything we took a long walk through the streets looking at everything. We bought some stringed musical instruments called the kora and a drum. We got really hot and tired we stopped and had ice cream at a really good cafe--we had mango and chocolate and lemon flavors. Guess what we had for dessert? For a change, mangos!! ;-)

Monday was our big trip to the school in Guedewaye. We got up early and took a taxi up there where we had bread and water for me and coffee for Mom and Abdulrahmane. Then we went to the school and sat in on one of the classes.

The school, which you have to pay to go to, is called The Oscars School! We took lots of pictures and video-- I was in charge of the video camera. All the girls and boys loved seeing themselves on video so I turned around the video screen so they could see themselves. Marie Therese liked taking video and regular pictures, too.

We also filmed when the teacher was teaching the lesson. Everyone wanted me to sit with them but at first I felt a little shy. The teacher said a sentence and everybody had to write it down on their little chalkboards and then hold it up so she could walk around and check it. Then she asked questions about grammar and the kids all jumped up with their hands up and called out "Maitresse! Maitresse!" (Mrs. Teacher!) until she called on somebody. They all really wanted to talk to me so one of the girls let me write my address and information in French on her board and they all passed it around.

We saw a picture of Santa Claus up on the wall--what was that doing there!? They had lots of murals on the walls--butterflies, birds, and even Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse!

After school we went to the market. It was unlike the one in Dakar--it had lots of tiny stalls squeezed together with tent material stretched over each one instead of a roof. You had to squeeze past all the bags and people and stuff. I'm glad we passed the fish section quickly--it smelled!

We bought a chicken for lunch and went back to their house where a relative with her baby was helping with the cooking and cleaning up. For lunch we had yassa, which is chicken with lemons and onion and rice. It was really yummy and this time I ate a lot, unlike last time! I still used a spoon, though, because I don't like eating with my hand and getting all greasy.

While lunch was cooking we found out that the Disastre du Creme Solaire had happened!! The suntan lotion had exploded in my backpack so we had to take everything out and wash it.At least it didn't ruin my journal. My journal is really important to me.

After eating we decided to take the girls--Marie Therese, Ndeye, and their relative and her baby for an after-exams treat to the beach. There's a really nice clean beach but you have to pay to get in there. We went swimming and built (and rebuilt several times) a sandcastle together. Then we showered off and had a great time eating lots of French fries and then chocolate ice cream. In the back yard there were two cats, a white male and one that looked just like our cat Cunda that was a girl.

Tuesday we walked down to the Place d'Independence and we went to a bookstore
there-- it's weird because librairie means bookstore in French, but biblioteque means library! Anyway, we bought lots of books and school supplies for the project. I got books for CP which means second grade in their system here. I also got a book in French from a series called Witch, and I have seen the exact same books in English at home!

We also went to a modern supermarket called Score. It was big and air-conditioned and looked just like our supermarket at home, except for the fish section. Most of the big fish were whole, and there were shrimp almost the size of lobsters! We bought some funny postcards. My favorite one showed a goat saying, "Tomorrow I'm invited out to Tabaski!" (That's the Muslim sacrifice holiday.) All the other sheep and goats were running around saying, "What? It's tomorrow!? Already? Oh, no!" One goat had stuck his head into the ground. The shepherds were saying, "The animals are nervous. Do you think they guess anything?"

We also finally bought some marbles, which I've been searching for since Casablanca, where all the kids on the street were playing marbles. And had ice cream again!

That afternoon we went to a big music festival outside on the Place d'Independence. At first the music was all Senegalese hip hop and rap, which we didn't like so much. We decided to go get a snack until some other group came on. We had doughnuts and then went to an Internet cafe right next door (there are Internet cafes on practically every corner of Dakar, it seems like).

Mom did e-mail while Andy and I played cool Kim Possible and The Buzz on disney.com. Who would think you could hang out and play online computer games in English in Senegal?!

We went back to the music festival and the music was great. We stayed for a while and listened and danced a little then went and had chicken and fresh fruit juice (orange and bissap, which is actually made from a flower) at a restaurant with a big fish tank of goldfish.