okay so i didn't write after work on monday.
...to continue with the previous entry...
saturday (6.30) i went to the pool till noon, tooted around a bit, went to get coffee with the roommate at
PJ's amidst a terrific downpour, said farewell to the roommate (:o/), read a bit of my
book, went for an invigorating run, then wandered down maple street to find dinner. at first i wanted falafel from babylon, but it was closed so i kept going. i stopped in front of the menu tacked outside of
jamila's cafe deli, gave it a glance and, lo and behold, there was...couscous! this was going to be dinner. the restaurant itself was very small and a foliage-laden corridor led down the exterior on the left. after a few trips up and down this hallway and lots of peering through the curtained windows in search of the entrance, one of the diners opened the door to the dining room. as i stepped inside, it was like walking into my nonna's basement kitchen. low ceilings, art-covered walls, a handful of tables, lively music, and a very pleasing smell immediately registered. a party of sorts, complete with a belly dancer, was taking place in a room off to the side. as i stood there, not knowing if i'd entered into some private affair, i was greeted by a man whom i took to be the owner/host/waiter, since no other staff seemed to be about. in my little pipsqueak voice i asked, 'umm, hi, err do you do take out?' he smiled and said 'yes, of course, sit down i'll get you a menu.' score. i was one of perhaps five guests in the dining room. seconds later i was introducing myself to the owner/host/waiter giving my rehearsed 'hi, my name's leigh anne i am a medical student...children's hospital...summer.... philadelphia....blah blah blah'. his name was Moncef, and he was indeed the host/co-owner/waiter and hailed from tunisia. (the menu outside did say 'tunisian, african, and mediterranean cuisine.') he said, 'here i have to go do such and such, but i'll give you this to look at while you wait.' a pamphlet all about tunisia. sweet. (learn:
tunisia is sandwiched between algeria and libya on the northern coast of africa, on the southern side of the mediterranean. looks very pretty, at least from the pictures in the pamphlet. i think i shall go there.) within minutes, moncef was introducing me to the belly dancer who had taken a break. the belly dancer then brought me over to sit with the couple who had opened the dining room door for me. he was a professor at tulane's med school. who knew? so i give them the 'hi my name is' and by the time my food was ready, i had the name of a neonatologist at chop (children's hospital of philly), an invite to belly dancing classes, and a chat with Moncef's wife and head chef...Jamila herself. as i was about to leave, one of the younger waitresses, malia (sp?), asked how i was getting home. i said i lived just at loyola, a 15 min walk away, whereupon she replied, 'i'm giving you a ride home, wait here two seconds.' not wanting to impose, i said, 'thanks, but i'll be fine' and probably would have been. she insisted, however, then related the story of her roommate at tulane getting mugged on the corner of st. charles and broadway, not far from loyola. so off we went, after many thank yous and goodnights.
in the span of an hour, i had family dinner, a lesson on tunisia, five more familiar faces in nola, and a ride home.
a huge thumbs-up for Jamila and her warm little cafe. outstanding and very much appreciated service.
oh, and the couscous was delicious. :o)
sunday (7.1) was yet another trip to the quarter. i learned that i simply can't eat 3 beignets in one sitting. after breakfast was mass at St. Louis Cathedral (i.e. the ginormous church in jackson square. if you've some how missed it, God help you.) for being the oldest roman catholic cathedral in america, it's quite lovely. the mass was given by the archbishop of new orleans, who, thank God, gave a very relevant and eloquent sermon about the declaration of independence (life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness) and the church's role in all of it. after taking several hundred pictures of the church's interior, i waltzed out onto jackson square. i was looking at the work of some of the local artists and wound up in a two-hour conversation with
stuart south about anything and everything from the twilight zone feeling of seaside, florida to cryogenics to unnecessary road paving. strangely, we talked about everything except art. ah well, good times. had i any expendable income, he does some very nice nola-inspired work.
ummm, nothing notable about monday or tuesday except for looking like an L7 weenie in loyola's gym with my 3 lb free weights.
wednesday (7.4) was independence day, so that's exactly what i celebrated. and what better way to pay homage to my independence than by taking a run in the rain? (hey, the logic isn't up for questioning.) the rain was by no means cats'n'dogs, but enough to keep the general population under pavilions and patios. i ran down st. charles, right onto louisiana, and left onto magazine, waving to several others enjoying the rain. the Nicest Park Ever was mostly empty, save a huddle of people grilling merrily away under a gazebo. so i sat on the edge of the pond encompassing the bird island, watching whatever birds do when it's raining--which isn't much. it was just so quiet. not devoid-of-sound quiet, mind you, but devoid-of-extraneous-noise quiet. so naturally i start inventing grand schemes, like what if the Nicest Park Ever was really my own private backyard and i was wealthy, etc etc etc. then i said to myself, no that would be heinously selfish so i prefer the much more sensible alternative of keeping it as a public recreational space so everyone can be happy and look at big birds and fat squirrels with no trash or graffiti around. after such Afternoon Delusions of Grandeur, it was time for dinner and shower to get ready for fireworks. ice cream cone + a patriotic performance by the
new orleans concert band + nice little dueling barge display = happy fourth of july.
friday (7.6) at work was unremarkable save the 5 lbs of fried rice i ended up with after ordering chinese for lunch. i'm trying not to waste it, but ugh, so much msg. however, i met a very tiny
fuzzball of a puppy named tyler during the evening run. such a wee heartbreaker.
ok. i'm spent. but before i leave, here are just a few reasons why i like july.
.....in no particular order:
- no classes.
- guaranteed fireworks.
- 2839402 bizillion birthdays, including mine. :oD
[nb: this year it will not be ruined...great friend craig is coming to visit!]
- national ice cream month.
- it sounds fun in spanish. say it with me......hooolio.
- and special for this year:
the perfect day :)
