#My people : the best crazy lady in Louisiana

I guess I already mentioned somewhere here that one of the things I absolutely love about traveling is the people you get to meet. Those completely INSANE humans, that you could never have imagined were walking this earth. I love them. It makes me wonder about it all. It makes me think that anything and everything is possible. It makes me relax about the kind of life I’m trying to build for myself. It just opens my mind so much.

I want to start writing a few articles here about some of the best of them. I’ll start with my boss when I was in Louisiana. That state, and New Orleans, was the sole reason I wanted to go to the US. Everything else was opportunities and bonuses. But Louisiana, that was my goal, that was what my soul was yearning for. I got a job working in a “spiritual retreat” there.  I arrived at the bus station, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I was so out of place than in the 10 minutes I was waiting for her, 5 different person came up and talked to me “what are you doing here ? are you lost ? wow, really, a spiritual retreat ? Where is that at ?”.

SHE came and picked me up in a car full of junk, with little pendants and bracelets everywhere, just talking the whole ride. Talking and talking and taking with that delightful Louisiana accent, saying “cray cray” and “ya’ll” everything few seconds. I got comfortable instantly.

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In the Bayou

I had a truly brilliant time there. The woman was AMAZING. She was in her own world, something she created herself. Her home was full of herbs and potions, she talked about her late shaman and the spirits. She believed that we had to inform the fairies one day before mowing the lawn that we were about to do it, so they could hide way and not get hurt. She was an amazing cook and she made her very own tea, that she would sell to her daughter’s friends to help them in their diet.

She would wear her cowboy hat and blast country music while we were out in the garden creating a “fairy garden”. She would make some mean mojito every night and we would drink them on the front porch, with the sound of a thousand frogs around us, talking about our path in life. It was brilliant. I admire her so much. From what I could piece together she spent her life reinventing herself, and that is just pure genius. She was a big career person, and then a pirate in the street of New Orleans, and now a spiritual guide in a retreat. She had designer clothes and yet wore flowery blouses tucked into her cowboy jeans for working the dirt. She was crazy and creative, so open-minded and loving. She held my hand and told me I came a long way, but had still a long way to go. That I had to stop caring about what other people thought. Honestly, I’m not really a shaman kind of girl, and I just rolled my eyes. But now I’m thinking, may be that crazy, loving, red hair energy devil was right after all. And maybe it was more of a special place than what I allowed it to be. All I know is, when she’s writing that the light porch is always on for me, my stone heart melts a little bit.

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On the Creole trail

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