Mardi Gras

Today is it! Mardi Gras. Fat Tuesday. Everything is closed for the parties, parades and celebrations. When we found out that the Salvation Army was closed, we closed our clinic, too. Not that there were many patients who came to the doctor instead of partying.

Actually today is only the culmination of a whole season of parties, balls, parades and king cake.
The season begins on Twelfth Night, the celebration of the Three Kings. King cakes come out in wonderful variety. Each is like coffee cake, rolled around fillings as varied as cinnamon sugar, raspberry or cherry jam, cream cheese and fruit, or custard. They are iced with white glaze and colored sugar - usually the green, purple and gold of Mardi Gras. But one thing is always the same: each has a Baby Jesus baked inside. If you get the Baby in your slice of king cake, you get a special blessing....and....you have to bring the next king cake. king cake is the standard dessert for everything during Mardi Gras. I will miss it.

We've gone to two Mardi Gras parades in the last few weeks. D'Iberville was small and homey but Waveland was bigger and more fun. Waveland was ground zero for the eye of Hurricane Katrina, and is one of the lowest areas of the low-lying Mississippi Coast. Waveland was 90% destroyed in the storm and parts of it will not be open to rebuilding until the end of this year when rebuilding of infrastructure is complete. They have one of the oldest and most popular family parades on the coast, so being able to put on a normal event was a giant accomplishment for Waveland, and the joy of returning to something near normal was infectious. There were Queens of all the community events, dressed in elaborate costumes, huge wigs and decorated masks. They were seated on the backs of donated convertibles waving to the crowd.

The Hancock County Middle School and High School Band was back in action, after losing all the school's instruments to the storm. Musicians at St John's Lutheran Church in Ambler, PA, donated musical instruments to us at Christmas. We met Lydia Jelinsky, the band teacher in Hancock County and donate the instruments to students in Waveland. So it was particularly exciting to cheer the band and the flag girls marching by with Lydia marching beside them.

Floats are generally towed by trucks, everything from the standard pick-up to semi tractors, and the floats themselves vary in size by the size of the organization -- or its ambition. All floats are home-decorated and vary in sophistication as do the costumes of the people who ride on them. Each float has huge speakers playing dance music, cranked up LOUD! People on the float are dancing, drinking and flinging out great quantities of beads, toys, cups and other goodies to the crowd. No one just sits and watches the parade amble by. The crowd is on its feet, dancing and reaching for beads, screaming and...did I say dancing. It is fun! Although I do not agree with the theological underpinnings of Mardi Gras -- you can get away with any carnal pleasures during this time, as you can make amends during the 40 days of Lent -- I had a great time jumping for beads, singing and dancing with the crowd and the friends who came with me. We ate chicken and potato salad and king cake. I came home drowning in strings of beads, most of them gold, green and purple.

Waveland was ready to Rock and Roll -- to tell everyone that Katrina couldn't rob them of their spirit, no matter how much damage she caused. I have seen that all over Mississippi. People are proud. They are determined to overcome the catastrophic effects of this disaster, as they have overcome disasters in the past. This one will just take a little longer. It is a privilege to walk with them as they dig down deep to rebuild their lives, to renew their hope, and to take care of each other. One of the important things that volunteers bring is the confirmation of that hope that life can get back to normal. The resident's gratitude to us volunteers is part of that pride. They take care of themselves and each other, and they are amazed that someone from another part of the country has come to help. They thank you in grocery stores, in church, in the clinic and on the job sites. They bring fresh shrimp and homemade gumbo. They pay for your dinner in restaurants. The sadness of their loss is still close to the surface, as is the frustration with the difficulties of getting to federal grant money and battling for a fair insurance settlement. But struggle is not new to them, and they are sure that they will come back as strong as ever.

I'm not going to the big Biloxi parade today. Two parades were enough for me. I have more beads than good sense. I am looking toward Ash Wednesday tomorrow. But - WOW - Mardi Gras in Biloxi was fun.