January 5th

It is difficult to choose my favorite experience from today, but if I had to choose one it would be the Old Ursuline Convent. The Ursuline nuns arrived by boat from France in 1727, and the convent is the oldest building in the Mississippi river valley. The tour started in the chapel connected to the convent, which was completed well after the convent was built. The church is known at St. Mary's church, but it was first called Our Lady of Victory. I found it to be just as beautiful as the St. Louis Cathedral. The Eucharist and the altar of the church are made of precious minerals such as gold, diamond, platinum, and others. Many, if not all, of these precious minerals were donated by the public. Today, it is estimated that the altar and the Eucharist are worth over five million dollars.

Another aspect of the church that makes it unique is the ceiling. In the 1970's they decided, for whatever reason, to drop the ceiling of the chapel. When that took place, they discovered the true ceiling of the cathedral. It is made of wood planks, and the actual paint and paintings are all preserved on it. The paint is not as vibrant as I am sure it once was, but it is still very well preserved for what it is worth. The tour guide told us that they believe is was kept in so well of shape due to the ceiling that was below it at one time.

All around the outer edge of the chapel there are statues of Italian saints. There are also stained glass windows that have surprisingly been kept in very good shape, except for one. Overall, the history of the chapel and the little details that were put into it make it very unique.

Next we went into the actual convent where the nuns stayed. In the entry way, there is a clock. It looks like any other large grandfather clock, but this clock was brought with the nuns from France in 1727. This means it dates back even further than when they arrived in New Orleans. What is most interesting about this clock is that it still works perfectly. It chimes on the hour and every quarter of an hour. The pendulum still swings, and the minute and hour hands work perfectly. The case for the clock is not original, but the clock itself is.

To the right of the clock, there is also a staircase. This staircase is a self-supporting winding staircase that was originally part of the 1734 convent. This staircase is the only self-supporting winding staircase left in an American colonial buildings. The railings on the staircase are also the only original ironwork left from French Colonial Louisiana. Someone from our group reached out to touch one of the bars on the staircase, and it moved quite a bit. You could tell it has been worn down over the years, but still very well preserved like the rest of the building.

The Ursuline nuns were a very cloistered group, and they mostly taught and took care of orphans. We were able to see the room where the orphans were fed. Also on display was a handmade vestment that was made by the nuns, and a statue that was brought over by the nuns in 1727. Another statue was sent to the convent much later from the original Ursuline convent in France.

Statue brought over by the nuns in 1727

Statue from the convent in France

Arrival Part 2

Everything is not always as it seems. That is the biggest lesson I learned from arriving in New Orleans and exploring on my first day. Upon first seeing the city from across Lake Pontchartrain, it looked like any other major city in the United States. All I could see from far away was the gray skyscrapers. When I arrived in the French Quarter I realized how wrong I was. It was the exact opposite of the typical major urban setting. As I mentioned in one of my first posts, when I thought of New Orleans I imagined Dublin, Ireland. I thought I would be very wrong in my assumptions, but as it turns out, I was not too far off. From what little I saw of the French Quarter I was reminded of Dublin is many ways. The streets are narrow, the buildings are different colors and they are also not very tall, and there are small shops and cafes everywhere.
The French Quarter gave me this intense feeling of wanting to explore every nook and cranny. It was almost as if there were hidden secrets just waiting to be discovered. I felt this way in Ireland, but I have not felt it again until now. This strange desire of mine was met during the historical ghost tour. I may have just walked right past the buildings that were mentioned on the tour, and I would have never known some of the happenings that went on there. Most of the buildings looked completely normal. Again, everything is not always as it seems.
I am in the process of trying to learn and understand the beliefs here in New Orleans. It seems to be more difficult than I thought because there are so many different cultures and people that are here today. For the most part I have learned that they value individuality, religion/spirituality, and family. That does not mean that everyone in New Orleans values these things, but those seem to be the most important that I have gathered so far.
In my assumptions about New Orleans, I speculated that New Orleans could not differ too much from Peoria because it is in the same country. I have learned that I am very wrong, and I learned this on the very first night. This is not a bad thing at all, in fact I believe that it is a good thing. While waiting for our table outside of Pierre Maspero's, I said that New Orleans feels like Disney World, except it is the real thing. The buildings are real and have historical significance. This city has been here for a very long time, and it is definitely not here just for show.

Supposedly haunted courtyard

LaLaurie House

Arrival Part 1

After what felt like an eternity, I have finally made it to New Orleans. The train station in New Orleans was slightly hectic at first. We all got off the train and immediately had to move out of the way of two luggage carriers honking at us. Our luggage was pulled off the train quickly though, and Edi called an Uber to come pick us up from the station. Honestly the whole process felt very fast, and I barely had time to truly take in my surroundings in the train station. I did notice that there were more people than there were at the train station in New Orleans. Our Uber driver arrived within a few minutes in a black cube-shaped car. On the drive to the hotel New Orleans looked like any other major city. Tall, gray buildings surrounded us, there were many cars and taxis, the sidewalks were crowded with people, and the people driving wanted to quickly get where they were going. On the way to the hotel, the driver missed the entrance at first. We had to loop around the building twice before finally finding the entrance to our hotel. At this point in my journey, New Orleans seemed to be like every other city I have been to. It was crowded, noisy, slightly dirty, and smelled like gas from the cars. The hotel we are staying at is called the Springhill Suites New Orleans Downtown. The room is very spacious, and it has a fridge, microwave, and desk. There is plenty of room for three girls to get ready in the morning.

Onto the more exciting event of the trip: the French Quarter. To start off, the streetcar to the French Quarter was not as I expected. I had imagined it running down the middle of the street, kind of like the cable cars in San Francisco. Instead, the streetcar has its own part in the city, and it feels like it is more to the outside of the city. It has been a great way to get around so far, especially with the Jazzy passes.  

The memory card in my camera wasn't inserted correctly, so the picture I took did not save.

The French Quarter is exactly what I pictured New Orleans to be. As soon as I got off the streetcar I saw the different colored buildings. They were also different sizes and not the usual size of major city buildings.

While walking down Decatur street I looked to my left and saw the St. Louis Cathedral for the first time. The sun had mostly set, but there was still a little light left that lit the sky behind the clouds. The cathedral was also lit up from the front, making the building really stand out.

After being briefly introduced to the French Quarter, we made our way to a restaurant named Pierre Maspero's. I was feeling very hungry,  and everything on the menu sounded delicious. I ended up ordering blackened chicken alfredo and caramel bread pudding for dessert. The blackened chicken alfredo was creamy and full of flavor. The bread pudding was some of the best bread pudding I have ever had. The bread was dense and warm, and the caramel sauce was perfect with the ice cream and whipped cream.

Departure

Thanks to my step-dad Jevan, we had finally arrived at the Amtrak station in Champaign. The car ride to the station was uneventful. Jevan, Karissa, and I chatted about the trip, ate at Taco Bell down the street from the station, and Karissa and I were dropped off. The Amtrak waiting area was nearly empty when we arrived, with the exception of our classmates and two older adults. The man had a long, gray beard, and he wore black slacks, a white shirt, and a hat with a wide rim. The woman wore a simple long, black dress with long sleeves, and a white bonnet covered the top and back of her head. Her head was bent over a thick book with yellowed pages. I looked up at them occasionally, and caught the man’s eyes once or twice. He watched us as well, and he smiled when a few of my classmates took a group photo together.

I have been on a train before, but always by myself. Boarding the train with twenty-two people was an entirely different experience. I was toward the back of our group, and by the time I got on the train it was a little chaotic. Multiple conductors were attempting to find seats for everyone so we could all sit together, but that did not happen at first. The last few of us kept moving forward, but we were then directed to move backward because there were no seats left by our group. I could feel myself thrown a little off balance because the train had started to move. My eyes were struggling to adjust to the sudden dimness of the train as I slowly walked toward the back. We found two available seats, but not even five minutes later we were told to move back up by our group. The conductors had moved some people around for us, and we were finally able to settle into our seats. I could feel sleepiness tugging at my eyelids, and a slight ache in my head was beginning to get worse. With the smell of some spicy food behind me, and the sound of a Pac-Man game starting up, I fell asleep.

I have never slept on a train before, and I fell in and out of sleep all night. It felt as though as soon as I found a comfortable position, I would wake up with a pain in my back, shoulder, etc. At around four in the morning I was suddenly awoken by seemingly nothing. It was eerily quiet. The only sounds I could hear were the wheels of the train scratching against the tracks, air coming into the car through the vents, and the muffled sound of a thumping bass through someone’s headphones.

This was also my first experience eating in the dining car on a train. It was nothing to brag about, a little pricey, but it was warm food which was nice. Karissa and I split a mini pepperoni pizza, and I got a Pepsi. My favorite part of the train ride has been the observation/lounge car. As I write this blog I am sitting at a table in this car. There are windows everywhere, and the sun has finally stopped hiding behind the clouds. It is very refreshing after being in a dark car for fourteen hours. 

Dining Car

Observation Car

Karissa and I's Gourmet Meal

Poster in the Observation Car

I remember the first time I took a train and saw Amish people on the train with me. I was confused and curious. Their lifestyle fascinates me, but I always got the feeling that they looked down on people like me. Or I got the feeling that I was doing something wrong in their eyes and I should be wearing a turtleneck and a long skirt that doesn’t show my ankles. I know that is most likely not the case, and that was proven to be true in some aspects in the Champaign train station. As the Amish man occasionally watched us have fun and just be college students about to embark on a trip, he smiled. This surprised me and shattered my stereotypes about the Amish. I have only ever seen Amish people look stern, and usually avoid eye contact. This older Amish man watched us, almost the completely opposite as him and what he believes in, and smiled. As with many occasions before this one, this taught me to be watchful about how I initially perceive people by what they look like, how they dress, etc.

As described before, boarding the train with a group of twenty-two people turned out to be much more chaotic than we thought it would be, and what it needed to be. I felt so stressed and anxious just trying to find a seat. It was made worse by the fact that there seemed to be so many people, it was dark, and the train had already started moving. When I made it to my seat by the rest of the group, I felt much better. All that stress and worry was for nothing. 

I had trouble falling asleep at first, and when that happens my mind tends to drift to oftentimes bad places. My mom was texting me, and I felt a sudden sadness from being away from home. I know, twenty-one years old and still uncomfortable with leaving for a few days seems pathetic, but that is how I have always been. I love to travel and experience new and exciting things, but I always miss my home in the beginning and towards the end of the trip. I’ve gotten better over the years, but it still nags at me. In a text my mom told me “It’s only a few days. Enjoy it! Not everyone has this opportunity. You are lucky!” and she is definitely right. I am so very lucky, and I cannot let sadness over being far away from home for a few days ruin this opportunity of a lifetime. Speaking of being far away from home, this is the farthest I have been away from home without a family member with me.

With so many different people on the train, I can’t help but wonder where they are all going and why. There was a woman sitting diagonally behind me and she asked about our group, where we were going, what school we were from, etc. She had a southern accent, and she also shared with me that her daughter is a registered nurse in eastern Mississippi. To me, this is a place that I am just passing through. But to others, these small towns are their whole lives. I know life cannot be that much different for them as it is for me, but I am still curious to know about what their lives are like and what brought them to this train.