Lafayette, La. –Back in 1991, when Cajun was all the rage and people were eating blackened everything, washed down with zydeco and two- step dancing, I went looking for the authentic heart of Acadiana.
It was a wonderful trip.
I returned just recently and discovered not much had changed. All that time and two awful hurricanes had left most parts of Cajun Country intact, as well as many of the other places that make Louisiana a worthwhile destination.
Of course, there’s no ignoring the devastation of New Orleans, as well as that long stretch of victimized land stretching from east Texas across to Mississippi.
People around the world have opened wallets, homes and hearts to the displaced Gulf Coast residents.
One way to help
But it may not have occurred to some that one way to help would be to visit a state whose economy depends so much on tourism.
It was clear not long after Katrina and Rita that most of Louisiana had suffered little or no physical damage from the hurricanes. Large swaths of southern prairie, swamp, delta, basin, bayou and riverfront came out pretty much OK.
Those who live in the state and weren’t forced to run away are shaking off the trauma. Survival calls for celebration – and that I found, dancing, singing, sharing gumbo and planning for Mardi Gras as it’s rowdily observed on small town streets and country roads.
I started out to find some of the things I remembered most vividly, and that meant being there, for sure, on a Saturday.
For those of us unable to fully absorb the complexities and joys of life in Acadiana, the food and music at least open the door a crack.
On Saturday, the Cajun music wails away all day long and well into the night. And the food, of course, is everywhere – gumbo, crawfish, jambalaya, etouffée, oysters, alligator, and on and on.
The music and exquisite flavors may have helped to keep spirits up during times of hardship. Ancestors of today’s Cajuns (a bastardization of “Acadians”) drifted from western France into what is now Nova Scotia, beginning early in the 17th century. They found a good life there, as their farms and fisheries prospered.
Almost 100 years before, it’s said, explorer Giovanni da Verrazano called the region Acadia, or Arcadia, which means a place of rural peace.
The British took control of Nova Scotia (“new Scotland”) in 1713, but the French settlers refused to cooperate with the new regime. The British set out to remove them, starting in 1755, and the Grand Derangement scattered French refugees across the East Coast, the Caribbean, Britain and back to France. Some found their way to southern Louisiana, west of New Orleans, where rich soil and abundant waterways promised a new lease on life. By the late 1700s, an estimated 4,000 Acadians had settled into the area.
Cajun culture put down
For a long time, life in Louisiana’s backcountry was no picnic.
Sophisticated New Orleanians considered the Cajuns hicks. Educators punished children caught speaking French in school.
Still the culture hasn’t entirely lost its grip. On a mild, cloudy January morning, along a stretch of U.S. 190 near Eunice, about 20 miles northwest of Lafayette, I could hear fiddles, guitars, accordions and concertinas scraping out a lively Cajun tune at the Savoy (Sav-WAH) Music Center.
About 30 spectators sat in folding chairs or wandered around the wood-paneled room, while eight musicians played – a couple of violins, three guitars, two accordions, one concertina. Marc Savoy, the patriarch of the musical family, manned the cash register for those who wished to buy CDs, sheet music, books or instruments.
“That guy playing the concertina drove here all the way from Alaska, just so he could join in,” Savoy told somebody. “He’ll get his belly full today.” That’s the main purpose of a Cajun Country Saturday. The Savoy jam sessions start around 9 a.m. and break up around noon.
Other musical get-togethers occur all around the area, most notably at Fred’s in Mamou and the Liberty Center in downtown Eunice.
Mamou is a hard-working, no-nonsense little town about 10 miles up the road from Eunice. The brick and cinderblock bars in downtown Mamou might seem forbidding if it weren’t for the music coming out of Famous Fred’s Lounge and other places up and down Sixth Street.
Fred’s was where Cajun music began its climb to international recognition after World War II and where, in 1950, the late owner, Alfred “Fred” Tate, revived the traditional Mardi Gras revels that enliven the countryside on Fat Tuesday.
Party starts at 9 a.m.
Starting at 9 Saturday mornings, a Cajun band plays and patrons dance wherever they can find floor space. By mid- morning, empty beer cans cover the bandstand railing and anyone not doing the two-step will get jostled because the place is packed.
The bar opens only on Saturdays, from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Then another bar might feature a different band. “The crowd just goes from one bar to the next, to the next, to the next, until they’re partied out,” said a long-time customer who introduced himself as Dewey.
Mardi Gras is different in Cajun Country than in New Orleans.
Residents of the Crescent City bravely promise to do their best to keep up the tradition, complete with elaborate floats and costumes, but the parades are likely to be truncated.
“We might have the biggest Mardi Gras in Louisiana this year,” said Lafayette restaurateur Frank Randol one evening. As we chatted over platters of oysters, crawfish and crab cakes, a band called Jambalaya kept scores of dancers busy in the hall next to the dining room.
Randol regularly trucks meals to hundreds of emergency workers in New Orleans, and he knows as well as anyone that the city isn’t ready for full-bore partying.
That throws the tourism spotlight toward Lafayette, the surrounding small towns and a lot of other places in the state that escaped hurricanes Katrina and Rita.
Still, visitor traffic remains somewhat slow. Marc Savoy said spectators and musicians haven’t been crowding into his Saturday morning music store jam sessions the way they once did. “A lot of people used to drive down here from other states,” he said. “I don’t think the hurricanes have kept people away so much as the price of gas.”
When I came to the region in late January, some townsfolk were revving up for the big Courir de Mardi Gras in Mamou. Courir is French for run or hunt, and masked, costumed men on horseback or riding atop truck beds do both of those things as they go from house to house pleading for gumbo ingredients.
Gotta get gumbo
Somebody might toss a bunch of okra. Somebody else will lob a live chicken that the younger men try to chase down. Participants roll around a front yard or try a headstand on a saddle. Bands play from the trucks. Around 3 p.m., the courir returns to town, and somebody makes gumbo.
“We get on horses, get drunk, do the food, catch chickens and ducks,” said a man sitting a row in front of me at the Liberty Center in Eunice. “We like to have a good time here.” We were at the Liberty Center, along with a lot of other people, for the Saturday night Rendez Vous des Cajuns, a variety show, concert, dance and radio broadcast on KRVS Radio Acadie in Lafayette.
The Liberty Center is an old theater with a wealth of modern additions and amenities.
Next door is one of six Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve outposts. With fresh museum displays and modern audio-visual effects, the Jean Lafitte centers tell the story of Louisiana settlers, their unique folkways and the state’s unusual prairie/coastal terrain.
INSIDER’S GUIDE
STAY
The major hotel and motel chains are well represented in Lafayette and environs.
For something different, Aaah! T’Frere’s (“little brother’s”), a bed-and-breakfast in Lafayette. The rooms were homey and nicely decorated, all with private bath. But the piece de resistance is hostess Maugie Pastor’s “Oooh! La! La! Breakfast” that one day featured Parisian crepes, bacon and a bananas Foster dressing. Rates are $120 per room, plus tax. 1905 Verot School Road, 800-984-9347, tfreres.com.
Another stop was Chretien Point near Sunset, an 1831 cotton plantation on the banks of Bayou Bourbeaux. The place still oozes antebellum grace. Rates: $150 to $250 per room, plus tax. 665 Chretien Point Road, Sunset 800-880-7050, chretienpoint.com.DINE
Blue Dog Cafe in Lafayette features the famous Blue Dog and other paintings on loan from native-born artist George Rodrigue (son Andre is a part owner), and delicious crab cake Benedict (think crab instead of egg) at Sunday brunch.
Also in Lafayette, Don’s Seafood & Steakhouse downtown and Randol’s and Prejean’s farther out, keep the standards high. And don’t forget Mulate’s in Breaux Bridge, which dares anyone to dispute its trademarked claim as “the original Cajun Restaurant.”
INFORMATION
There’s a lot more, of course. Find it through the Lafayette Convention and Visitors Commission, P.O. Box 52066, Lafayette, LA 70505; 800-346-1958, lafayettetravel.com.
