The Truth About Birthright Israel- Part Two

          In my previous post, I wrote about my “Birthright” trip to occupied Palestine in 2018. “Taglit-Birthright Israel” is an Israeli government program that sponsors ten-day trips for all young Jews. I am Jewish on my mother’s side, so I decided to take advantage of the program.

          Before embarking on my journey, I was quite unfamiliar with the socio-political controversies surrounding modern Israel. This ten-day trip certainly opened my eyes, and I was shocked by how viscerally I was confronted with conflict.

          Yet, I had several Jewish peers who went on “Birthright,” and when they returned, they were enamored and entirely uncritical of the Israeli government. They spoke of forming lifelong relationships, connecting with their heritage, and of course, the delicious Israeli food. I was deeply disquieted by the differences in our experiences, which appeared to me as blatant indoctrination. Is a free ten-day trip really all it takes for young people to overlook human rights violations?

A Precursory Disclaimer on Antisemitism

          Jews have been systematically persecuted since the advent of Judaism, circa 1000 BCE. Around 70 CE, the Romans destroyed the Jewish State of Israel, causing Jews to scatter across the globe. In the centuries to follow, Jews were pushed out of Russia, Austria, Germany, and many other countries across the globe, forced to seek asylum in foreign lands where they were despised due to religious conflict and ethnic stereotypes. The most obvious example of this hatred is the Holocaust, wherein 6 million+ Jews were murdered on the sole basis of their ethnic identity. These antisemitic biases and crimes persist today, as evidenced by the Pittsburgh Synagogue Shooting in 2017 and, more recently, the infamous hip-hop artist’s public hate speech towards Jews.

          I provide this context to remind my readers that Jews have been and still are a targeted minority group throughout the world. For this reason alone, I felt it important to write a separate article on the beauty and complexity of Jewish culture that I experienced while in occupied Palestine.  By splitting my travels into two separate articles, I acknowledge that I risk conveying a holistic view of Israel as entirely good or entirely bad. To the former, this trip taught me a lot about global politics and Jewish history. To the latter…well, let’s just get into it.

Some Quick Historical Context

          Zionism — a nationalist movement that espouses the creation of a Jewish homeland — emerged in the late 19th century. Jews yearned for a place to call their own; a spiritual center; a refuge free from discrimination, abuse, and violence. The new Jewish state, named Israel, was established in 1948 in the region historically known as Palestine. Zionists claim that this region, often regarded as The Holy Land, belongs to the Jews, for Jewish texts describe Jerusalem and surrounding areas as a sacred site for Judaism—the Promised Land.

          One tiny problem: the Promised Land had already been promised to others—specifically, the Palestinian people, who had settled on that land for centuries preceding 1948.

         This territory has been a source of conflict for so long that many consider it irreconcilable, and indeed, the conflict continues to this day. Since 1948, Israel’s military occupation has forced Palestinians into smaller and smaller areas in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. Those who remain with their homes and communities in occupied Palestine face daily persecution from Israeli Defense Forces, which often culminates in destruction of Palestinian property or bodily harm. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict has consistently affected civilians and produced a disproportionate number of casualties from the Arab side, in large part due to Israel’s resources and military power. I implore my readers to research the continued violence against Palestinians in their ancestral homeland. Vox is a good place to start.

The "Birthright" Agenda

NOTE: I will continue to refer to my Taglit trip as “Birthright,” because I do not feel that Jews have any more birthright over that land than the people who have resided there for centuries. Furthermore, I use the terms “Israel” and “occupied Palestine” to refer to the same region; “Israel” in the context of the Jewish nation-state, “occupied Palestine” everywhere else.

Step One: Get them while they're young

          In the wee hours of dawn, I stepped afoot an Israel-bound plane with forty other young Jews. In my first attempt to make friends, I struck up a conversation with a girl seated next to me—a fellow brown-skinned, dark-haired, Jewish girl who could, like me, pass for “ethnically ambiguous.” I must have mentioned that I speak some Spanish (studied in high school and later in college) because she exclaimed,

            “Cool! I love Mexicans! I love your culture!”

            She’s confused, but she’s got the spirit, I thought. Chuckling, I said, “I’m actually half-Indian, half-American Jewish.”

            “Oooooh, so can you speak Indian?”

            Um…. there are 22 scheduled languages and hundreds of regional dialects spoken in India, none of which are called “Indian.” My father speaks Bengali, and I study Hindi. Common mistake—I didn’t fault her.

            Yet, this encounter set the tone for many of my future interactions with my fellow “Birthright” travelers. While many of them proved knowledgeable about Jewish customs and Israeli history, they also turned out to be uneducated, tone deaf, or even willfully ignorant to other cultures—especially Palestinian culture. For many of my peers, “Birthright” was their first time traveling outside of their home state, let alone by themselves or internationally. At age 20, I was older than most of the individuals in my group, who were primarily fresh out of high school and extremely impressionable to the ideas proposed by our tour guide and group leaders. I believe the “Birthright” agenda is heavily targeted towards those who have limited prior cultural exposures.

Step Two: Lure them to Israel

          “Birthright” is a shockingly generous program. The Israeli government pays for thousands of Jewish youths to visit every year, and there’s virtually no catch, besides having to stay for the entire ten days. If you leave early, or somehow get kicked off, you only forfeit a $200 deposit. Many travelers take advantage of the free overseas flight and continue to travel around Asia or Europe after the trip ends—“Birthright” makes no conditions as to when you arrive or when you leave the country, so long as you participate in the ten days of organized travel. They’ll pay for your flight home–no questions asked!

          Furthermore, the “Birthright” budget is by no means modest. We slept in 5-star hotels, gorged ourselves on gourmet buffets, and engaged in countless cultural activities that would have burned through a tourist’s pocket. The sheer luxury of this free program raises some questions, to say the least. Yet, if you’re Jewish, you would be stupid to not take advantage of this program. In this way, the “Birthright” offer is somewhat irresistible.

Step Three: Make them feel at home

          Israel boasts a developed free-market economy, with modern infrastructure that rivals many Western countries. The country’s prosperous economy allows for sophisticated welfare programs, a powerful modern military, and high-quality education systems. As a result, many parts of occupied Palestine feel comfortable and familiar for many American travelers—perhaps even uncannily so. Indeed, the difference between Israel and its neighboring nations—Jordan, Lebanon, and Egypt—is stark. The Tel Aviv skyline, the developed roads, the thriving technology industry…these factors point to colonial power, not a young sovereign nation sequestered in the Middle East.

          From my perspective, the logic behind this step is quite clear: shower the young visitors with lavish gifts so they won’t ask questions. At the beginning of the trip, I naively wondered if “Birthright” is an innocent ploy to boost Israeli tourism. As time went on, however, I started to feel as though I had been paid for my silence.

Step Four: Promote anti-Arab propaganda

          My fellow travelers’ true colors emerged quickly. Upon arriving at our hotel on the first night, one girl became restless and irate. She began to shout about having to sit next to a Palestinian woman on the plane ride, 

          “I bet she thought she was going to Palestine, huh? Well, she’s not. This is ISRAEL!” She followed her angry tirade with a stream of obscenities, prompting one of our group leaders to step in.

            “Hey now, I spoke to a Palestinian man on the plane, and he was actually very nice…” the group leader began weakly, but we all recognized the futility of his attempt. Even he seemed unconvinced. There was no further effort to counter her blatant hate speech.

          From that interaction onward, anti-Palestinian rhetoric became commonplace among our group. Other forms of hate speech also went unpunished (the N word was popular among my group—needless to say, none of us were Black), but remarks targeted at Palestinians seemed to be encouraged, even rewarded. These sentiments were propagated by our Israeli tour guide and our American group leaders as much as my fellow travelers.

          For example, the Birthright itinerary always includes a visit to Israel’s borders with Syria and Jordan so that travelers can “gain a real understanding” of Israel’s geo-political positionality in the Middle East. This “real understanding” turned out to be a slew of propaganda which cast Jordanian and Syrian people as uncivilized, violent warmongers. Our tour guide, standing with his back to the arid Syrian plains, gestured broadly across the farmlands and said casually,

          “We always see explosions over there.” Inevitably, this remark prompted several ignorant questions: How often do they bomb Israel? Have they ever targeted a Birthright group? Are Syrian women educated? Are they all forced to build bombs? The conversation was unproductive once again, serving only to heighten fear and distrust. As for perspective gained on Israeli geopolitics, we were evidently meant to view Israel as a perfect victim, helplessly sandwiched between primitive Arab countries with no means of self-defense. Records of military spending will no doubt have a different story to tell.

The invisible boundary between Israel and Syria

          At the Dead Sea, our tour guide declared that the Jordanian government is purposefully polluting the saline water to gain control over it. He conveniently neglected to mention that Israel is equally to blame for the Dead Sea’s lowering water levels and rising number of contaminants. In reality, the two countries’ refusal to cooperate threatens the Dead Sea far more than the pollutants of either country alone. Israelites have historically accomplished great feats in water management (see Part 1), but their inability to work with Arab neighbors may cause irreparable damage to their historical and religious landmark. 

          The anti-Arab discourse came to a head in Jerusalem. On a rooftop overlooking the Old City, our tour guide began to lecture about the Temple Mount, the Western Wall, and other sacred geographies. He recounted the First Temple and its fall to the neo-Babylonians, then the subsequent Second Temple and its fall to the Romans. Then he pointed to Al-Aqsa, the plaza beyond the Western Wall. Barely bothering to conceal his disgust, he sneered, “they stole our temple.”

          Dominion over the Temple Mount, or Al-Aqsa as Muslims call it, has been central to global religious conflict for centuries. This location is a sacred site for all three Abrahamic traditions–Judaism, Christianity, Islam–whom all constantly vie for control. However, the claim that Muslims stole the Temple Mount is reductive and historically questionable. 500 years span the gap between King Herod’s Second Temple and the construction of the Dome of the Rock; if anything, the Romans should be on trial, for their temple to Jupiter was the first to replace its Jewish predecessor. Our tour guide’s accusation mirrored the broader Zionist ethic, which tends to ignore historical chronology in favor of spiritual entitlement. 

          All this hateful rhetoric against Arabs was underscored by a bizarrely cheerful spring break energy. Out of all the planned activities, my peers were mostly interested in clubbing in Tel Aviv, partying at the beach, and drinking in our hotel rooms. We were shuffled from marketplaces to gift shops to malls, urged to shop for handicrafts and try authentic local cuisine. Ironically, many of these uniquely “Israeli” dishes (shakshuka, hummus, falafel) are just shameless appropriations from Arab cultures. But my peers were far too busy spending their shekels at upscale boutiques to think critically about colonial exchange networks.

Step Five: Instill Zionist loyalty

          Much like American education, the framework of “Birthright” is infused with an Israeli nationalist spirit that strategically penetrates the pathos. The “Birthright” itinerary takes young Jews through Israel’s national cemeteries, war forts, and great historic battle sites. These morbid locations work in conjunction to illustrate the endless plight of the Jews. Simultaneously, the educational core glorifies Jewish history to justify the creation of the Zionist State.

          Through all of this, my group was drinking excessively, hooking up with one another, and attending “Birthright”-sponsored EDM mega-events that celebrated the founding of Israel. At the mega-event I attended in 2018, a sponsor implored the audience (thousands of Birthright travelers) to act as ambassadors and sway public opinion in Israel’s favor when we returned home. I was shocked by his bold request, but when I glanced around me, my peers were smiling and cheering—they had been drinking for hours by that point. I guess alcohol makes the propaganda go down easier. 

          There was also a distinct undercurrent of peace symbolism throughout the trip.  I mentioned in Part 1 that we were each given a dove to release for seemingly no reason. Later, we took a tour of an olive oil factory, where the saleswoman really emphasized the olive branch imagery. 

          And then there were the IDF soldiers. “Birthright” includes a multi-day mifgash (encounter) with Israeli peers, who are almost always active duty in the Israeli Defense Forces. On my trip, our IDF peers traveled with us for six days. 

          For background, Israel mandates conscription for every citizen over the age of 18. Men are expected to serve a minimum of 32 months, women 24. Arab Israelis are notably and explicitly exempt from service, as are a few other groups such as religious women and married individuals. The Israeli Defense Forces is somewhat notorious with the United Nations for its perpetual war crimes in conflict against Palestine, so I was fascinated (and somewhat terrified) to meet the young soldiers in person and pick their brains.

          As it turned out, my IDF peers had little to say because they had nothing to admit. One day, I sat with an American friend and an IDF soldier, a woman named Einav, for lunch. My American friend mentioned a video he had seen the previous week, of an IDF bombing of a Palestinian civilian area.

          “Do you support this?” he asked Einav.

          “That wasn’t us,” Einav responded immediately, impulsively.

          “What do you mean?” my friend asked, puzzled. “You can see the soldiers in IDF uniforms in the video. You can see them, see?” He pulled out his phone and showed her his news source. Her eyes skimmed the screen and without hesitating:

          “Video footage can be doctored. Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” Einav scolded. My American friend looked at me, jaw dropped. Is she required to cover for her country? Or does she truly believe that Israel is blameless?

          Further inquiries were met with sharp denial. Trying to convince her felt futile, so the topic was dropped, unresolved.

Step Six: Encourage marriage within the religion

          Our IDF peers were not just there to make us doubt the media narratives against Israel. They were also there for our socializing and fraternizing pleasure. They slept with us in our hotel rooms, and our group leaders did little to discourage frisky co-ed behavior. In fact, I can recall several instances when “Birthright” organizers encouraged the development of romantic relationships between group members. We were each slept 4 to a room, but that didn’t stop my fellow travelers from…enjoying each other’s company.

          Subliminally, I had known that this is the motivation behind “Birthright”—to promote marriage within the religion. An ongoing longitudinal study called the Jewish Futures Project shows that Jews who go on “Birthright” are significantly more likely to marry another Jew than those who don’t. What I did not expect, however, was their complete lack of subtlety. More than once, we were told to “look around you—your husband or wife is probably standing in this group!” Everyone told us in plain terms to fall in love on “Birthright,” marry another Jew, move back to Israel, and have Jewish babies.

          The part they didn’t say out loud?

          Those Jewish babies grow up to be Israeli citizens and, inevitably, IDF soldiers. “Birthright” is a soft power tool of demographic engineering and military recruitment, designed to insure the Jewish majority in future generations so that the Israeli state may continue to occupy Palestine. 

          Despite my tour guide’s efforts to portray the Zionists as innocent victims of Arab violence, Israel has blood on its hands. Israeli occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, as well as the innumerable war crimes committed against the Palestinian people since 1948, have been solely enabled by Israel’s mandatory conscription law. By participating on “Birthright,” I was a gullible pawn in this master plan.

Step Seven: Lure them back

          After everything I experienced during my ten days in occupied Palestine, I could hardly believe it when, at the end of the trip, my fellow travelers were heartbroken to leave. They shared teary goodbyes and sappy lectures about how the trip had changed their lives, how they would miss everyone so dearly, and how proud they were to be Jewish. Many vowed to move to Israel, while others promised to spread the good word when they returned home.

            Frankly, I could not participate in their festivities; my feelings were the opposite of theirs. My “Birthright” trip had disillusioned me so completely that I did not ever want to return to Israel. I did not want to advocate for Zionism. I did not want to marry a Jew. When I left Israel, I didn’t even want to BE a Jew anymore. I felt deeply ashamed by the violence initiated by my ancestors and perpetuated by my peers. I could not believe that these geopolitical conflicts, seemingly so ancient and abstract, could manifest themselves before my eyes so tangibly. Furthermore, I could not believe that kids my own age were willing to overlook these conflicts for a free vacation.

          Most of all, my heart ached for the Palestinian people—those who still live under apartheid rule, and those who have died in the fight. “Birthright” did not introduce us to those people, nor acknowledge their oppression. “Birthright” relies on the anonymity of Palestinians to tell its twisted tale of nation-making and justification. “Birthright” abets Israeli occupation in Palestine by spreading misinformation and indoctrinating thousands of young Jews every year.

          “Birthright” is a violent colonial institution. That is the truth. And while I can only speak for my own experiences, I hope that my Jewish peers will also soon recognize their ethical obligation to speak out against Israel. 

FREE PALESTINE!

          If you are interested in supporting the fight to Free Palestine, please consider donating to one of the following organizations:

Medical Aid for Palestinians 

Palestine Campaign 

United Palestinian Appeal 

Jewish Voice for Peace

          If you would like more context on the Israel-Palestine conflict, please visit the following resources:

United Nations 

The Iron Cage by Rashid Khalidi 

The Israel-Palestinian Conflict by James L Gelvin

Arabs and Israelis: Conflicts and Peacemaking in the Middle East by Abdel Modem Said Aly, Shai Feldman, & Khalil Shikaki

Let the Good Times Roll

          Did you know that there are no open container laws in New Orleans?

          I didn’t. Frankly, I didn’t know what to expect when I flew into NOLA on the eve of Mardi Gras. I have always wanted to celebrate Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but only because of the living room in my childhood home. My mother painted the walls a dark, royal purple and hung feathered masks to match. I had a strong visual of the iconic event, but in my mind, it was completely distanced from its context. New Orleans couldn’t possibly be a city in Louisiana, not in the United States at all, but rather, a whimsical land outside of space and time where sequined fairies shower you with beads and court jesters dance in the streets.

          My conception wasn’t entirely false. Sequined fairies do shower you with beads, and court jesters do dance in the streets. New Orleans at Mardi Gras embodies liminality. Everyone is either coming or going, yet no one has any real place to be. All other affairs come to a screeching halt. The laws and morals of everyday life needn’t apply—after all, it’s Mardi Gras, baby.  At least, this seemed to be the attitude held by my friend Payton, who lived in New Orleans and hosted me for the week. His job gave him the week prior to Mardi Gras off, so he spent his free days attending parades and collecting festive paraphernalia. He proudly showed off his favorite “throws”—stacks of plastic cups and handfuls of fake doubloons—while boasting his tried-and-true method for capturing a Krewe member’s attention aboard a float. I won’t reveal his secret, of course; everyone must discover their own methods.

          Unsurprisingly, the debauchery and chaos of Mardi Gras are steeped in age-old religious tradition. And who better than the Catholics, of course, to throw a raucous sin fest every year to commemorate the season of salvation?

          Rather than tell you where it all starts, it’s easier for me to explain where it ends, and that’s Easter Sunday. Easter falls on the first Sunday after the Paschal full moon, and the forty days preceding the feast are called Lent. This is a time of fasting and religious observance, wherein Catholics honor the forty days Jesus spent wandering in the desert prior to his crucifixion. They will usually make a Lenten sacrifice (such as a food or habit) and/ or undertake a spiritual discipline (such as daily devotional or prayer) to honor Jesus’s ultimate sacrifice. Many Catholics also forgo meat. Easter, then, is a welcome respite; the breaking of the long fast; a light at the end of the tunnel. The period of grief is necessarily ended by celebration of the great miracle of Christianity.

          But let’s keep winding the clock back. Lent kicks off with Ash Wednesday, when Catholics attend mass in the morning to formally begin the fast. If we go back one day further, we land on the Tuesday before Lent. This Tuesday is known as *Fat Tuesday* in honor of the gluttony that you’re meant to indulge in on the day before you fast. Traditionally, Catholics eat rich, fatty foods the night before Lenten season, then repent their sins one last time before the piety begins. It’s a classic pre-game celebration, and because it’s such a great idea, lots of non-Christians have joined in on the Fat Tuesday festivities as well. Mardi Gras is a literal translation of “Fat Tuesday” in French, and you don’t even have to be Catholic to partake!

          France, a nation that proudly celebrates Carnival, is responsible for bringing the festivities to Louisiana. In 1699, on the eve of Lent, French-Canadian explorer Jean Baptiste Le Moyne Sieur de Bienville arrived on a plot near New Orleans and declared it the “Pointe du Mardi Gras.” I guess the people of New Orleans took that title and ran with it, because now the city is infamous for its rowdy pre-Lent party. Suffice it to say that the world has Catholicism to thank for this thrilling tradition.

Festivities

            The NOLA Mardi Gras celebration consists mainly of lavish parades, hosted by exclusive groups called Krewes. The Krewes, usually named for Classical heroes and Gods (Bacchus, Sparta, Dionysus, etc.), build their own floats, plan performances, and design costumes, all of which are shrouded in secrecy until the grand Mardi Gras reveal. Unless you’re one of the lucky few privies to a Krewe gathering, you’ll have to set up camp on the parade route to see the resulting masterpieces.

            Parades start as early as a month before Fat Tuesday and each follow different routes, though most of them travel west through the French Quarter. Festivalgoers stake out spots hours before the parade to socialize, dance, eat, drink, and generally cause a ruckus. I attended my first parade with some of Payton’s friends, who prepared an entire parade-side cookout. We hauled a charcoal grill and carts full of food to the street, where we commenced a needlessly elaborate barbecue. Our neighbors to the right blasted music from their boombox while the couple to our left danced in matching sequined outfits, and we offered hot dogs to both parties in the spirit of Mardi Gras abundance. I opted for a smoky veggie skewer, of course.

          Most parades are still led by Flambeaux—a line of flaming torches that were once crucial for providing light for the festivities. Even after the advent of streetlights, they remained a symbol of the party to follow. The Flambeaux announce the arrival of the Krewe and its parade: gargantuan floats, costumed dancers, and showers of petty treasures—namely beaded necklaces and plastic masks. Attendees crowd the floats as they pass by, pleading and performing for a chance to catch the krewe’s exclusive throws. Some of my favorite catches included a set of plush dice and a Krewe of Orpheus coin.

          Masks, the iconic symbol of Mardi Gras, allow wearers to temporarily transcend borders of class, status, race, and religion. They grant the wearer freedom to behave freely during the Carnival season. Masks lend to the liminality of the event; no one is who they usually are. You can find plastic masks littering the streets after a parade, but the best ones require exquisite craftsmanship and painstaking detail. I quite enjoyed perusing the mask shops on Bourbon Street, where each mask alluded to a different culture or time, from 18th century Commedia Dell’arte to 14th century plague doctors to ancient dramatic traditions all over the world.

     Now, Mardi Gras doesn’t have to be all booze and belligerence (although you’ll see plenty of that!). In the name of contextualizing the chaos, I have some travel recommendations for my readers.

Food

Union Ramen: Japanese cuisine curated by a Vietnamese chef and a Filipino restauranteur—a true melting pot! Try the beggar’s purse dumplings, the shishito peppers, and the miso ramen with oyster mushrooms.

Juan’s Flying Burrito: Creole-tinged Tex-Mex with an emphasis on burritos. Chips & queso are great, of course, but the vegetarian options are numerous; order the tofu Juaha roll, the veggie punk burrito, or the BBQ mushroom quesadillas.

The Vintage: a classy little café bar with a tantalizing selection of beignets, baked fresh daily with rotating flavors. They also serve hors d’oeuvres and wine if you’re into that. I was extremely tempted by the truffle parmesan fries.

San Lorenzo: an ode to coastal Italian cuisine nestled in the historic St. Vincent Hotel. The lounge is spacious, warmly lit, and the dishes showcase the diversity of flavors in NOLA. I recommend the zucchini fritti and the arugula salad.

Creole Creamery: a local ice cream joint with a large selection of novelty ice cream flavors ranging from lavender honey to petit four. My favorite was chocolate doberge, but the flavors rotate regularly. Go check out the new menu when you’re there!

NOLA Caye: a contemporary take on regional New Orleans cuisine, which is a hybrid of European, Indigenous American, African, and Caribbean flavors. Unfortunately, creole food leaves something to be desired for vegetarians, but Caye has struck a beautiful balance. They’re known for their seafood, but I loved the crispy plantains and the jalapeño-cheddar grits.

Bittersweet Confections: a quaint café/ bakery on Magazine St. They offer delectable pastries as well as a full breakfast-lunch menu. I practically inhaled my veggie wrap (okay, maybe I was just starving).

Sucre Bakery: a pastry haven. If you’re like me, you’ll be craving a traditional macaron in this French-influenced city. This bakery has every flavor of the delicate dessert that you can imagine, plus coffee and other baked goods. Even if you don’t like macarons, you’ll love seeing the vibrant rounds stacked in cake form behind the case.

Magnolia Sugar and Spice: a hot-sauce-shop-slash-bakery in the French Quarter that specializes in a classic nutty confection: the praline. Incredibly sweet and impossibly good; I wish I could load a whole suitcase full to take some home with me.

HONORARY MENTION- Auction House Market: a stunning food hall that WAS in the Warehouse District. Sadly, this co-op closed shortly after my visit, but it was so adorable that it deserved a mention here. The central bar was adorned with trailing plants and provided a perfect workspace for local professionals. The back room featured a gorgeous moss wall—I sat there sipping my latte and enjoying the botanical view for hours.

City History & Culture

Café du Monde: OKAY, you caught me, the first one is just more food. I came to realize that between creole cuisine and French pastries, food is a large part of NOLA culture. If you’re wondering where to find a classic New Orleans beignet, look no further—this is THE spot. Their outdoor stand in the French Market offers the full experience: freshly fried pastry dough copiously coated in powdered sugar that is simply *impossible* to not get all over your clothes and face. You can also sip a chicory coffee while you people watch, which is sure to be an exciting sport around Mardi Gras time.

French Quarter: the historic district around which everything in New Orleans revolves. This area has something for everyone: upscale boutiques, restaurants and bars, horse-drawn carriages, voodoo shops, and ghost tours that tackle NOLA’s dark history of slave torture. Bourbon Street, a 13-block stretch of bars and neon, plays host to late-night gatherings and streetside parties. This neighborhood showcases the wrought iron balconies and lush courtyards that characterize NOLA architecture.

Mississippi River: the waterfront bisects the French Quarter and offers a bustling snapshot of the city, with commemorative statues and street vendors galore. Throughout history, the river has signified commerce, but large industrial complexes blocked the waterfront from public access. Since the warehouses were removed in the 1970s, visitors have enjoyed the river with beachside picnics and riverboat tours.

The steps were strewn with party paraphernalia; I imagine they're usually much cleaner!

St. Louis Cathedral: the oldest continuously active church in the United States!!! Also known as the Cathedral-Basilica of Saint Louis King of France, this cathedral stands at the edge of the French Quarter and the Mississippi River, boasting jaw-dropping architecture and stained-glass art. The building undergoes regular renovations to reinforce the 200-year-old structure, but Catholics still attend Sunday morning service every week. Interestingly, the site has been a place of worship for even longer, but the original building was burned to the ground in 1788. The current cathedral has stood since 1793.

The Swamp: New Orleans belongs to a temperate deciduous forest biome with marshes all along its tributaries. These boggy inlets create one of the longest coastlines in the United States! Sadly, I did not encounter any gators while down in the bayou, but these forested wetlands play host to complex ecosystems with turtles, pelicans, mosses, and cypress trees, the latter of which play a vital role in protecting the swamp from soil erosion. The rough terrain of this fragile ecosystem has long protected New Orleans from Southern attacks, while providing access to important oceanic trade routes.

Buckner Mansion: built by a cotton kingpin in 1856, this mansion is one of many in the Garden District, featuring grandiose gates, stone columns, and not one, not two, but three ballrooms! The property is rumored to be haunted by the Buckner family’s slave, Josephine, which explains why it was chosen as the set for American Horror Story Season 3: Coven. Nowadays, ghost enthusiasts, AHS fans, and ambitious property buyers alike flock to the Buckner Mansion to admire the architecture and catch a glimpse of poor old Josephine.

Mardi Gras traffic only allowed a drive-by, unfortunately

          Though I had no idea what Mardi Gras in NOLA entailed, I was so grateful to discover southern hospitality, amazing food, and ritual transformation, all steeped in fascinating history. If I were to celebrate Mardi Gras in NOLA again (which is something I definitely plan on doing), I would arrive a week or two before Fat Tuesday to experience more parades from the other prominent Krewes. I would also reserve a spot on a ghost tour because WOW this city has some dark lineages. I did not have nearly enough time to explore all this city has to offer. However, my first Fat Tuesday celebration was an absolute riot, and it’s all thanks to Payton and the friendly people of N’awleans.