Dear Mom and Dad,
What I've feared since I moved here has finally happened. Some friends called and asked for directions to our house. I knew I was going to have trouble the evening I noticed the sun was setting behind me as I was driving to the west bank, where our house is. I asked Jonesie what the heck was going on and he confirmed that we were driving due east to get to the west bank. He even showed me on a map why it was so, but it still gives me the creeps to drive across the bridge at sunset.
So how do I explain to visitors what I don't understand myself? When you look at New Orleans on the map, it appears to fit in naturally with the rest of the world, but this is an optical illusion. The Bermuda Triangle looks ordinary enough on the map, too, but look out if you happen to wander into it unprepared.
The first thing I told my prospective guests, was to check their natural sense of direction before entering the city limits, particularly if your sense of direction is based on compass directions, such as north, south, east or west.
These will always be the opposite of where it feels like they should be. This is particularly true if a street has a compass direction attached to its name. For instance, if a street is clearly marked as "north," it will actually be east-west or even south-west or south-east, but it will rarely go north or if it does, only for a couple of blocks. Compass directions are added to street names for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with direction. And what those reasons are are either a closely guarded secret or forgotten.
Native Orleanians seldom use compass directions when giving directions, unless the direction-seeker insists on them, and even then, they don't mean anything. The correct terms are: up river, down river, uptown, downtown, towards the river, away from the river, towards the lake, away from the lake. You will have noticed right away that this is twice as many directions as the rest of the world has to contend with. I believe I have mentioned before that New Orleans is a city devoted to excess in everything.
Left and right are acceptable here--as long as the person giving you directions knows which is their left and which is their right. I also tell people that you'll find more things if you just let yourself give lost and go with it. That's how I found the Children's Museum.
I told Jonesie, "Cross the bridge and get off at the wrong exit. Turn the wrong way immediately (this would be a right turn for the truly inexperienced) and drive until you realize you're lost, then take the first left. It will be right there on your right."
Outside of New Orleans, these would be considered ludicrous directions, but Jonesie knew exactly where I was and had no trouble finding the museum that weekend, though he did make sure he wasn't carrying a map. That can really throw you off.
A disclaimer: Don't try this at home.
Sometimes you do need a map, of course. Maps are necessary when you want to match pronunciation of streets (from helpful passersby) with their actual spelling. Without a map then, you might end up in Yonkers. Streets like Tchoupitoulas, which is pronounced: Chop-e-too-lus. Or Socrates, which is pronounced: So-crats.
These are examples of the charming incongruities that make New Orleans a nice place to visit...as long as you don't try to drive here.
love,
pj
© 1993 Pauline Baird Jones All rights reserved.