I can’t believe we hadn’t linked these great photos of our New Orleans landing yet.  All photo credits go to George Hero.

The most amazing thing about this set of photos is that since we have been behind the camera so far, we have never gotten the perspective of just how small we were!  When we were on the water, sure we knew we were smaller than everyone else but JEEZUM PETES in some of those photos we are barely a few pixels large!  The landing circumstance were nothing short of spectacular as a crowd drew together and family celebrated joyously.

The “Lesson Learned” potluck/party/presentation is tomorrow so please come if you can to 913 Magazine St., New Orleans, LA any time after 11 pretty much!  Open traffic; come meet some new people and hear a bit more in person about our trip!

-Brother Booch

This is Isis, again.

Nooch says that maybe I should put a link to my blog.

Ain’t they sweet?

-Isis

We have been in New Orleans since last Wednesday; I guess that makes it a week today.  My mom, Elaine, and her husband, George, have been kind hosts to us rascally river rats.  Isis joined our ranks a few days ago as she traveled down the west coast from Portland, Oregon to find herself here just beyond the bayous and bogs of Louisiana.  To make her gas money, she would stop in a town, unpack the accordion and grace the public with melodies for money.  She has been on the River too.

That has been our goal since we’ve been here: Stay On the River; Keep With the Current; Go With the Flow; and perhaps most importantly Overcome Tourism With Pilgrim’s Progress.  One of our initial tactics for accomplishing this was to not stay more than two days in a single place; to change hosts to exercise guesting/questing.  Well, this was a fine idea, but when it was envisioned we could not see, for the future is often full of misleading distances, that we might be subject to fatigue, the welcome embraces for family, or the utility of a “homebase”.  In place of our original tactic which was unsuited for these benevolently mild terrains, we have tried to shift towards exploration, engagement and service when possible.  We have set out on foot, bike, boat, tractor, truck to meet people where they are.  The purpose of the pilgrim/guest is maybe to give the host merit and exchange inspirations; how do you do this?  Is it by taking their home cooked meals with a grin on the second helping?  Is it encouraging them to perform their most self-satisfying talents?  Could it be living a dance of freedoms to kindle the Dream in their hearts? Incorporated experiments?  Honesty? Devotion? Massages? Messages? Meals? 

I wondered the other day with Isis how someone could say “thank you” to someone/something that did not understand words.  She replied that she would give to them a gift that would be useful to them.  Perform a task or make a present but it would cater to that individual’s scope of things, because if it is to be useful, it would have to be considerate of wants/desire/problems/perspectives.  So perhaps to grant sympathy towards another person/animal/plant/place’s perspective is ultimately to pay them respect!

“This is what respect means…treating them like their ideas made some difference, and when we treat people this way. whatever age, color, or background, we find that communication barriers disappear and that learning takes place.” John Holt, “Order and Disorder”, 1968

It is amazing to me how much faith maintaining respect takes.  You see, the real challenge of not moving around every two days has been reading the desires/parameters of our hosts while believing confidently that we are being somehow useful.  We have to believe in ourselves.  We have to believe in the forts we make of sheets.  We have to believe in the goodness of our actions.  We have to believe in odd recipes, idiot giggles, improvisational piano playing, conversations with strangers, guests’ gifts, and jesters’ gestures because that’s what we have to give.  We have to believe that what we are doing is made of love and played with fair fun.  To be there, in full faithful service, is to be on the River.  That is the Flow. That is the Way.  That is God. That is Rama.  That is Magic.  That is Adventure and this is Life.

Thank you for everyone’s support so far.  Even though there is no longer a thin layer of plastic bobbing Drew and I down a river, I hope that we can all stay in touch, inspire each other and come together like tributaries towards the River so that we might travel downstream to that truly epic mass of water so vast and boundless that our minds, being formed by banks and bends, can hardly fathom our fatefully fortunate future.

With a love that I pray you can imagine,

-Brother Booch

John here, from the Jefferson City Library.  Glad to see that you two arrived in the Big Easy safely.  I envy your experience, but I’ll just remember my own from younger days.  Really glad you got your hands on “Kon-Tiki”… one of my favorites.  As I told you, I love adventurers/explorers - like Lewis & Clark… and now… Nooch and Booch!  Best wishes in life and in all your future adventures! 

John

Stopped in New Orleans for a muff and beer on the river.  You guys had just made it New Orleans.  Met your grandmother, she was very helpful in explaining your adventure.  Tried loading a pic we took of you but unable to, maybe later. 

Well, we made it. We’re in New Orleans! We landed yesterday right next to the riverboat Natchez in Jackson Square. There was a band and champagne and mufalettas and family! But wait….we don’t get to wake up on sand bar and start paddling over an open jar of peanut butter? No barges? No Tankers? No Mud? No RIVER? huh…we’ll see how long I can last….THANK YOU TO EVERY SINGLE PARTICLE IN THE UNIVERSE THAT HELPED US ALONG THE WAY, GIVING US LESSONS TO LEARN, CHALLENGES TO OVERCOME, RUSHES TO SEEK, THANK YOU FOR ALL THE GRACIOUSNESS AND SUPPORT! THANK YOU RIVER! THANK YOU PEOPLE!

-nooch

Baton Rouge is at Mile Marker 225. New Orleans is at Mile Marker 95. The mile markers are measured from the mouth of the river in the Gulf. Not sure if the markers are visible from the river. But if ya’ll can see the markers, let us know where ya at.