Update on Spring Semester

Please begin using your Tulane email addresses or at least checking them. This will facilitate communication within the department.

Today I participated in another conference call with Dean Soufas and the LAS Chairs and Directors. The recovery and restoration of the Uptown campus is proceeding on schedule and many of the buildings on the Gibson side of campus already have power. The Newcomb side sustained more damage from flooding and will need more time to get dried out and cleaned up. The major task, it seems, is to clean the mold and strip walls in addition to making roof and siding repairs. Several of the participants in our meeting were already living in New Orleans and reported that environmental conditions Uptown are safe. Teresa and Chris Soufas plan to return to the city tomorrow and all of the deans are expected to return by November 1. According to the Tulane website, faculty and graduate TAs are expected to report by January 2 even though classes won't begin until mid-January. They want us to establish a presence on campus and begin preparing earlier than usual for the semester.

The two course schedules for both semesters have been posted on the Tulane site and students will begin registering in two weeks. Please refer to this schedule and not the one I posted on Diaspora Verde. If anyone who is scheduled to teach is actually planning to stay away I need to know this immediately.

A major issue of concern is finding accommodations for faculty and students who may not be able to occupy their homes. If this is the case, please let me know. The university adminstration is now working on finding and securing suitable and affordable housing for faculty, students, and staff. There is a place to register on the Tulane site if you will need housing. Additionally, there is a woman named Rhonda Coignet rhondac@tulane.edu who is helping to coordinate these efforts.

An important fact that kept coming up in our discussion today is that Tulane University is no longer operating under a decentralized budget. This means that all major decisions about the use of university resources are being made by Scott Cowen and a small group of senior administrators and not the deans of the various schools. Many staff positions have been eliminated and employees 'separated' from the university in order to ensure the financial viability of the university. Teresa Soufas, for example, lost nearly her entire staff in the LAS Dean's Office. Of course, there is a hope that some or even many of these positions may be restored in the future. We heard assurances that the senior administration is committed to retaining faculty and safeguarding its status as a research university with strong graduate programs.

I hope all of you are well. We're enjoying Ithaca, but it has been rainy and cold up here. I also miss my friends and colleagues in New Orleans and at Tulane.

Spring 2006 Schedule

Spring semester begins January 17 and ends in early May. For most upper level courses I simply maintained the Fall 2005 schedule. In addition, there will be a second "Lagniappe" semester lasting 7 weeks (May-June) that is for undergraduates only. Graduate students will neither teach nor take classes during this period. According the guidelines established by the Tulane administration, only regular faculty, selected visiting faculty, and graduate student T.A.s on stipend will maintain their contracts.

At this point I need to receive confirmation that everyone scheduled to teach is indeed planning to return. If not, please let me know immediately. Conversely, if I have overlooked someone who should be scheduled, please accept my apologies and let me know.

Please refer to official schedules for both Spring semesters on the Tulane website.

Urgent Note!-- Update

I'm very happy to report that David Hervas responded to our appeal below and was able to get into Alex's house yesterday and safeguard his belongings. Obrigado David!

Caros Amigos:

I'm writing with an urgent appeal. The Hurricane Katrina disaster has brought out the best in many people in New Orleans and across the country. Many of us have been the recipients of the kind generosity of our friends and colleagues in the academic community and beyond. Unfortunately, it has also brought out the worst in some people who have responded terribly to our collective tragedy. The roommate of one of our new graduate students, Alexandre Castro e Silva, has threatened to throw his belongings into the street next week. Alex is currently studying at UC-Berkeley and has no way of returning to New Orleans. Is there anyone who is planning to return to New Orleans in the the next few days who can pick up Alex's belongings and save them for a couple of months? I understand that it is not much in terms of weight or volume. Please contact me or Alex directly if you can help. His email address is alexandre@sobresites.com and my address is cjdunntemp@hotmail.com.

I have settled with my family in a rural area outside of Ithaca NY. We're staying with two wonderful professors of Neuroscience at Cornell and their two daughters.

The Tulane server is up and running so we should be able to communicate with each other using our Tulane email addresses.

Guest Blogger: Nilda Rivera

La visita de Katrina me tomó de sorpresa. La noticia de su arribo me llegó cuando ya no estaba en casa. Aquel corto viaje para conocer Houston, que sólo se pensó de tres días, se transformó en un regreso al pasado, un coqueteo con la incertidumbre, en la paradoja de un “comenzar de nuevo” temporero, en una experiencia desconocida, desfiante y aterradora. El lenguaje delata su carácter insuficiente ante su eterno afán de capturar la vida real. Me pregunto si Balzac, Pérez Galdós, Flaubert o Dostoievski podrían relatar a Katrina y sus secuelas. Aún cuando las muertes de Emma Bovary, Marianela o Ilíushka son narradas con una maestría que las convierte en escenas vivas, son un constructo ficcional; Katrina fue tan real que transformó nuestras vidas en eventos ficcionales porque tanta realidad es casi imposible de domesticar.

Para quien nace, se cría y vive en el Caribe, los huracanes son la orden del día durante casi 6 meses todos los años de su vida. Yo tengo 27 años y he “conocido” a 12 de estos fenómenos de múltiples tamaños, sabores y colores. Aún así, cuando ya se presupone que esté “curá de espantos”, como se dice en mi país, Katrina rompió todos mis esquemas y, luego de un mes, no ha dejado de hacerlo.

El temor por los seres queridos - esas personas que en tan sólo un año se habían convertido en una nueva familia para mí - la ansiedad por mi casa - esa que ahora era la mía, convirtiendo al espacio que me vio crecer en “la casa de mis viejos” - el miedo por el futuro del semestre - la continuidad del proyecto que se había convertido en mi nueva vida - la incertidumbre del “¿ahora qué?”... Lo cotidiano y lo soñado eran desbancados y, sin lugar a dudas, ya nada sería igual...

Sólo la solidaridad salva esta historia. Y no sólo la de los amigos de antes y de ahora - en especial los de Houston que impusieron la pauta - sino la de los vecinos, los colegas, los maestros, los jefes, los conocidos y, maravillosamente, los desconocidos. Las llamadas, los emilios, los encuentros, los blogs, los pensamientos, las oraciones... Ahora estamos más unidos y fuertes porque ya no es simplemente por el trabajo, sino por lo humano, por el corazón, por la fe, por el sueño del regreso... para comenzar de nuevo.

NOLA no nos ha abandonado sino todo lo contrario; está con nosotros y nos reunirá otra vez. Este “interludio katri-ritístico” sólo abrió puertas, rompió fronteras, nos obsequió con una nueva forma de ver la vida y de interpretar el entorno, así como nuestro lugar en él. Volverán las comunas, las fiestas, las risas, los llantos, las presiones, las clases, las conversaciones, los proyectos, las investigaciones, los planes... Regresarán, porque forman parte de nosotros, porque conforman a “la ciudad que nos habita”, porque son nuestra Itaca... y nos exige un viaje para regresar:

Cuando emprendas tu viaje a Itaca
pide que el camino sea largo,
lleno de aventuras, lleno de experiencias.
no temas a los lestrigones ni a los cíclopes,
ni al colérico posidón,
seres tales jamás hallarás en tu camino,
si tu pensar es elevado, si selecta
es la emoción que toca tu espíritu y tu cuerpo.
Ni a los lestrigones ni a los cíclopes
ni al salvaje Posidón encontrarás,
si no lo llevas dentro de tu alma,
si no los yergue tu alma ante tí.
Pide que el camino sea largo.
Que sean muchas las mañanas de verano
en que llegues -¡con qué placer y alegría!-
a puertos antes nunca vistos.
Detente en los emporios de Fenicia
y hazte con hermosas mercancías,
nacar y coral, ámbar y ébano
y toda suerte de perfumes voluptuosos,
cuantos más abundantes perfumes voluptuosos puedas.
Ve a muchas ciudades egipcias
a aprender de sus sabios.
Ten siempre a Itaca en tu pensamiento.
Tu llegada allí es tu destino.
Mas no apresures nunca el viaje.
mejor que dure muchos años
y atracar, viejo ya, en la isla,
enriquecido de cuanto ganaste en el camino
sin aguardar a que Itaca te enriquezca.
Itaca te brindó tan hermoso viaje.
Sin ella no habrías emprendido el camino.
Pero no tiene ya nada que darte.
Aunque la halles pobre, Itaca no te ha engañado.
Así, sabio como te has vuelto, con tanta experiencia,
entenderás ya qué significan las Itacas.
Constantino Cavafis

Espero que todos estén de la mejor forma que el “viaje” lo permita. Nos vemos a la vuelta a Itaca, pero mientras, reciban un fuerte abrazo inundado de solidaridad. Con amor,

Nilda

Guest Blogger: Mac Williams

Message from Christopher Dunn: I'll be traveling to Providence RI by car today. While I'm gone it's likely that my hotmail account will fill up. If you have any problems, send your mail to cjdunn1@gmail.com. We should have our Tulane accounts back soon.

Guest Blogger: Mac Williams

When I turned 31 back in December, little did I realize that I would soon be living with my parents again instead of in New Orleans. Katrina changed all that. I got my wife, my daughter, and myself, along with a friend of ours, a fellow Tulanian from Idaho with nowhere to go, out of town the Saturday before Katrina hit. We evacuated to my hometown of Woodstock, Georgia (about 30 miles NW of Atlanta proper). We did all the normal things that we were supposed to do before we left; moved stuff away from windows, put all our hanging pictures on the floor in the hallway lest the windows break and gale winds knock them off the walls. We got all the stuff off our front porch and secured what could be secured. Luckily our landlord had an enormous termite-ridden hackberry tree cut down behind our house the Friday before the storm. Otherwise it would've bisected our house right down the middle (as it stands [lies rather] the tree on the other side fell and hit our house anyway, though it did little damage).

We got to my parents house and spent all day Sunday agonizing and waiting, sick to our stomachs. The storm suddenly turned into what the Weather Channel was calling a category 5 1/2. There were wind gusts that measured 213 mph. When it finally hit, I was up watching the news, the internet, the sky outside. For a few hours I thought it hadn't really clobbered us as bad as we had expected. When the cameras showed the destruction at the Superdome, my heart sank--I had friends, dear friends that had been forced to seek refuge at the Superdome.

When I saw that those levees had failed, I knew we were screwed as a city. Anyone who has been out to Bucktown knows that the levees are taller than the neighborhood, and that a little water in there would wreak havoc. Our worst fears came true. The next few days were a blur and endless. Desperately dialing cellphone after cellphone trying to get through to someone. Emailing, calling, praying. I found Dr. Avelar's blog and I was relieved to know that others were okay. I especially felt bad because I hadn't checked on my Borgesian twin, Miguel Rivera, before leaving. O biscoito fino brought us all together; what a blessing that blog was/is!

I desperately tried to make contact (and still am) with the 300 members of my church in New Orleans. The vast majority of them are poor with no cars and no money to be able to afford to evacuate. I was especially worried about one of my Boy Scouts, Eric Walker. He is 14 years old and not street-wise. He has no father and his mom is schizophrenic with a severe gambling addiction. He hadn't seen her for 2 days before the storm hit (turns out she had been in Biloxi on a gambling jaunt). He came to the bishop of my church asking to evacuate with him because he didn't have anyone to help him, but the bishop couldn't take him because his 3 cars were already full of other younger children and because Eric's mother had called the police on the bishop once for taking Eric to a Boy Scout meeting in Kenner. It was a misunderstanding (digamos), but the police told the bishop never to take Eric anywhere again without written permission. Luckily, a friend of mine was watching the Weather Channel and saw a clip of Eric being reunited with his Mom, so we don't have to worry as much about him now. All of us were total wrecks as we watched the horrors unfold at the Superdome and the Convention Center. I bristled every time I heard someone start to blame the situation on someone else. I rebuked the self-righteous people who claimed it was God's wrath that the Gulf Coast be hit with such destruction. I heard over and over again the hate filled and ignorant rhetoric that the city got what it deserved. The very Bible, even from the mouth of Jesus in St. Matthew, says that the Lord causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust. The politicians and pundits screaming for each other's heads made me feel like no one gave a damn about the people suffering. How could they claim to not know about people suffering and dying at the Convention Center? It was all over the damned news! After that first Friday, I basically quit watching the news. I couldn't handle anymore coverage from any side, position, or point-of-view.

Tired of worrying about my house and the flood waters, tired of pouring over satellite images hoping to glean any information I could about the status of places and homes, my Dad and I got in the car, loaded down with supplies and went off to Picayune, Mississippi about 15 miles from Slidell, LA to help. It was terrible devastation there, like some giant had come through with an enormous lawn mower and mowed the tops off of most of the trees. We helped those we could and came home. More worrying. Then, a glimmer of hope. A business permit was obtained under an invented name for my eBay business (a half-truth). We got into the city. My house was spared! All was ok! Only the wretched smell coming from my deep freeze to complain about. Then I went round to some of my friends' houses. They were not so fortunate. To quote a famous New Orleanian, Fortuna spun her wheel and Katrina's valve closed. I went into Cindy Seley's house, where the water would've been over her head. She had a complete loss downstairs. Can you imagine all you have, all your keepsakes, sentimental stuff, photos, wedding trinkets, baby toys, your memories all covered in a white/black fur and the funk of forty thousand years? We drove on I-610 because I need to go and retrieve my car down on St. Charles Ave. and the interstate was blocked. We drove through the 9th Ward, over the Industrial Canal. The devastation was catastrophic. The city has no color anymore, just different shades of gray. The water is pitch black-the smell, like a rotten pig carcass boiled in feces and then sprinkled with vinegar and burnt hair. Strangely, I got used to the smell after a few hours. It feels like winter, most of the trees have lost their leaves, save the ever-indestructible magnolias. The only sound to be heard was the occasional helicopter overhead. Otherwise, it was like being in the country.

I have none of your typical vices. I don't drink, don't smoke (what do you do?), no coffee, no tea, no drugs, not much of anything except over-eating. My wife and I started a diet in January that has resulted in some dramatic weight loss for us both. My health is much better. But, I am a stress eater. When things go badly, I struggle not to drown my sorrows (or whatever) in Coca-Cola and rich food. Since I suffer from gout, this is not wise, but that's my main stumbling block in life. The first night after the levees broke my wife and I went and bought some ice cream. The good stuff--Ben & Jerry's. Each day thereafter we ate ice cream. We realized that we were fast on our way to breaking our diet forever so we've relented before we made our way through all 31 flavors.

At first I found it impossible to even think about working on my dissertation, in spite of Dr. Soufas's chastisement to those of us who should be working on such things. Now I've created an office in my old bedroom complete with a wireless internet connection. I got a job once a week teaching a Spanish class at a very small school in mid-town Atlanta--just to keep doing what I love and not fall out of practice. I have been reading and writing a little here and there. This week, with my mind finally clear and my long-term situation more solid, I plan to get down to brass tacks and crank out some pages. I hope all are well, all are progressing in their fields, and that all know that I will exhaust myself trying to help you recover from the storm in any way that I can. I do not know why my family was spared with so many others have suffered great losses. I can only guess that it was so that I may be of service to others. If you find your way to the Atlanta area, please do not hesitate to give me a call. I will assist you in any way that I can.

Guest Blogger: Alejandra Sanchez

Hola a todos,
Katrina nos ha puesto a todos en lugares diferentes. Particularmente a toda esa pequeña comunidad de Zimple St. y de Dufossat St. La comunidad de 2 españoles, 1 mexicana, 1 croata, 2 chilenos y tres perritos, uno español y otros dos nacidos y criados en Nueva Orleáns. Esa pequeña comunidad de amigos que en el momento más estresante logró salir mas rápido de lo que pensaba de la ciudad. Unos primeros que otros, pero salimos. Si, dos días después del huracán íbamos cinco personas en un auto, gracias a la “cooperación” de gasolina de cuatro autos estacionados en nuestros garajes. Salimos silenciados y sorprendidos por el estado depresivo y desolado de la ciudad. Todos acalorados y dispuestos a dejar lo que hasta ese momento había sido nuestra casa y en dirección a quien sabe donde. Pero al fin, después de descansar un poco logramos ver con más calma cual podría ser nuestro destino a seguir, así que como comunidad llegamos a un consenso de irnos a Houston. Ese fue el último lugar donde esta pequeña comunidad se instaló, siendo recibida y acogida por amigos maravillosos que también habían dejado una parte de ellos en Nueva Orleáns. Houston fue el centro de operaciones, además de haber sido el lugar de decantación, de incertidumbres pero también de elecciones y decisiones. Fue allí donde esa pequeña comunidad se despidió, para tomar individual y separadamente otros rumbos. Es un poco extraño, porque la verdad no sé si esta comunidad volverá a juntarse en la calle Zimple otra vez. Digo eso, porque el huracán vino a sacarnos, confundirnos, perdernos, removernos para instalarnos en un lugar que tal vez es más transitorio que Nueva Orleáns o todo lo contrario… ¿quién sabe? Ahora, yo estoy en Puerto Rico con dos amigos increíbles, haciendo el curso de Teoría Literaria en la UPR, trabajando en mis listas y organizando de la manera más sana el caos que Katrina dejó en mi vida. Es aquí, en la Isla del encanto, cerca del mar que le estoy pidiendo a Yemayá por el destino de Nueva Orleáns y por el bienestar de cada uno. Además, dando gracias a mis grandes amigos de Zimple, Dufossat, de la calle Judalón en Houston y a la voluntad de todos aquellos amigos y desconocidos que me dieron la mano. Como dice meu caro amigo Camilo, siguiendo a Blanche en A streetcar named Desire “I've always depended upon the kindness of strangers” y Katrina nos ha puesto a muchos de nosotros en manos de desconocidos, gracias a ellos ….

Un abrazo grande para todos
Alejandra

First Guest Blogger: Renata Nascimento

In the first days after Hurricane Katrina, members of the department congregated virtually at Idelber's blog, Biscoito Fino, to check in and get information. As the days went by we became increasingly worried about the fate of Renata, her mother Ione, and her partner Aaron. Finally, they checked in after driving across the country to California. Here is her story, the first of what I hope will be a series of guest postings from students and faculty of our community.


Através do blog Biscoito Fino do Idelber me senti super confortada ao receber as primeiras noticias dos amigos e companheiros da Tulane. Agora, ao visitar o Diáspora Verde foi como se estivesse cruzando os corredores do departamento e entrando na sala da Cláudia para dar “bom dia!”... me senti em casa. É muito frustrante perder do dia para noite nossas referencia em relação à vida. Este momento chegou para mim na terça-feira à tarde (depois do furacão) quando eu, Aaron e minha mãe tivemos que deixar New Orleans e iniciar nossa jornada de quatro dias até Carpinteria - Califórnia. Não tivemos tempo para pegar muitas coisas, saímos às presas da cidade com medo que a única estrada que ainda estava aberta, também fosse inundada. Na terça-feira à noite, junto à sensação de perda e desamparo sentimos também revolta, raiva, tristeza, medo, angustia... ao assistirmos pela televisão do hotel as imagens das pessoas presas no telhado das casas. Por quatro dias cruzamos o sul dos Estados Unidos com a sensação de que estávamos de luto... estamos em um velório. Dirigíamos durante o dia (onde era impossível não conversarmos sobre tudo que estava acontecendo) e a noite ficávamos grudados à televisão do hotel tentando entender porque tudo aquilo estava acontecendo com a população de New Orleans. Porque? Chegar à casa da família do Aaron em Carpinteria foi como chegar em um oásis. Eles nos aguardavam com muita ansiedade e nos confortaram ajudando a trabalhar (talvez minimizar) toda aquela revolta que vínhamos cultivando durante a viagem. E agora? E agora o que vamos fazer das nossas vidas? Estudar a onde? Trabalhar a onde? Morar a onde? Ir para o Brasil (grande sonho) ou ficar aqui? Cadê todo mundo, onde estão nossos amigos? pqp.... que angustia! Só em escrever sobre este momento posso sentir aquela mesma ansiedade na boca do estômago. Aos poucos fomos achando os amigos e trabalhando com as opções para nosso futuro próximo. Estar entre família e amigos foi fundamental para passarmos por está fase de espera e incerteza. Finalmente na semana passada conseguimos dar um rumo em nossas vidas. Nos matriculamos na UCLA, conseguimos uma quitinete (“cottage”) de graça (sem pagar aluguel, luz ou água) para morar em LA e recebi a noticia que minha casa está inteira. Estou respirando um pouco mais aliviada em relação a minha própria vida, no entanto, não estamos sozinhos neste mundo e está é a grande lição do Katrina. O angustia e o luto pela população de New Orleans permanecem fortes dentro de mim.

Forte abraço a todos.
Espero que dentro em breve possamos estar reunidos novamente.

Renata Nascimento