New Orleans: A Foreigner’s Take on the Big Easy

I had my first taste of southern hospitality the day I moved to New York. A young woman from New Orleans, whom I had met only briefly over Skype (she had advertised a room in the Bronx, though I preferred a room in Manhattan), had asked if anyone would be picking me up from the airport. No, I told her. I didn’t know anyone, let alone someone with a car. “Oh, then I’ll come get you!” she said. Her name is Keri and we’ve been friends ever since.

Keri’s family, whom we stayed with earlier this month, live just outside New Orleans. They are just as generous as she. Soon after arriving, they sent us to a nearby market to pick out some shrimp. “This is your first time in Louisiana?” the lady behind the counter said, tossing crabs carelessly out of a bucket. Yes, I told her. “And this is gonna be your first boil?” Affirmative. “Girl! You are winning, winning!”

About the Author

Madeleine Kearns

Madeleine Kearns is a former staff writer at National Review.

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I had my first taste of southern hospitality the day I moved to New York. A young woman from New Orleans, whom I had met only briefly over Skype (she had advertised a room in the Bronx, though I preferred a room in Manhattan), had asked if anyone would be picking me up from the airport. No, I told her. I didn’t know anyone, let alone someone with a car. “Oh, then I’ll come get you!” she said. Her name is Keri and we’ve been friends ever since.

Keri’s family, whom we stayed with earlier this month, live just outside New Orleans. They are just as generous as she. Soon after arriving, they sent us to a nearby market to pick out some shrimp. “This is your first time in Louisiana?” the lady behind the counter said, tossing crabs carelessly out of a bucket. Yes, I told her. “And this is gonna be your first boil?” Affirmative. “Girl! You are winning, winning!”