Tag Archives: St. Landry Parish

The Arnaudville Experiment

George Marks did what many young people do who grow up small towns. He moved to the city—New York City to be precise, where his career as an artist was taking off quite nicely thank you.

Then his father became gravely ill. And George moved back to his tiny hometown of Arnaudville, in the heart of Louisiana’s Cajun country, to help care for his dad.

georgemarks.300After his father’s death, George realized that he wasn’t ready to leave home again.

And so, with the power of his gentle yet wildly infectious personality, George began nudging his hometown toward an amazing transformation. George will be the first to tell you that many, many people have made this transformation possible, but it seems clear to me that he was the catalyst.

Over the last decade this tiny hamlet has reinvented itself into a Mecca for all sorts of artists and artisans, and at the core of that transformation is NUNU’s Arts and Culture Collective. Step through the door past the weathered gray exterior of an old lumberyard building and into a explosion of creative spirit. On one recent visit to NUNU’s, quilters gathered around a frame suspended from 20-foot ceilings, not only celebrating and preserving that ancient art—but practicing their French, part of another community initiative to keep that part of local culture vibrant. The adjoining space serves as studios for Marks and other regional artists—and on the occasional evening as a music performance space. The town’s old jailhouse and waterworks have also been converted to artists’ studios. Down the road there are weekly jam sessions at the music shop Tom’s Fiddles, hosted by a fiddle maker from Maine, one of those drawn to The Arnaudville Experiment—along with a bass player from Rhode Island and a blues guitar player from Nashville.Quilting

We spent some of our final week in Louisiana back in Arnaudville, for its Semaine Francais—six days exploring how small communities can build on their cultural foundations to become even stronger, more vibrant places to live. Alongside local townspeople and politicians were a hundred folks from a similar small community in Brittany—from business people, to musicians, to high school students.

There were bi-lingual workshops in the day—and lots of food and music at night. (Including a joint performance by a band from Brittany and a local band in which they collaborated on new songs that blend their music traditions. How cool is that.)

Next up for Arnaudville is an ambitious plan to draw upon its French-speaking heritage to create an “immersive French weekend experience” for those who’d like to brush up on that particular skill without the cost of a plane ticket to France. Ideas include a French speaking lane at the grocery store, French speaking window at the post office, art and music studio tours in French.

Pretty groovy eh?

From this very special small town—comes very big ideas.  Glad we got to visit one more time as we hit the road.

First Stop: Acadiana

PalmsCajun Palms. I almost crack up every time I say the name of the RV resort we chose for our first stop.  Here on the edge of the Atchafalaya Basin, one side of the road has been cleared and planted with sugar cane that stands about knee high this month. The other side of the road has been cleared and planted with palm trees. Lots and lots of palm trees, each one waving over a concrete pad awaiting an RV. Palms are not native to this part of the world, but they seem to like it here. As did we, despite our first encounter with the quirky side of RV culture, upon which I’ll expound in an upcoming post.

We chose Cajun Palms not for its amazing bar and pool complex or the weekend drinking and line-dancing beside that pool, but purely for its location within easy striking distance of all the exploration we wanted to do in Acadiana during our last week (for awhile) in Louisiana. We packed a lot in to those last few days.

We celebrated Dave’s birthday the first night at a pot luck in an old lumberyard that has been converted to an arts collective, and where on that particular night a gathering of locals and visitors from France celebrated their historic connection. They sang Happy Birthday to Dave in in French accompanied by a band from Brittany.

BDCakeWe made the ten minute drive into Breaux Bridge for the legendary Zydeco breakfast at Café des Amis. The dance floor, inches from our table was packed, while we chowed down on an etouffée topped omelet and a huge boudin-stuffed oreille de cochon pastry.

We visited with long-time friends who live in a beautiful, art-fill Acadian cottage that happens to be just down the road from our home du jour.

We chatted one afternoon with the tiara-topped winners of the Miss and Mrs. Catfish Festival Queen contest who were the guests of honor at a outdoor arts show in charming, historic Washington.CatfishQueens

We made a quick stop to see the irises in magnificent bloom at the über-cool, design-award-winning, eco-friendly St. Landry Parish Visitors Center.

We visited the branch of the Jean Lafitte National Park that interprets the lives of those exiled Acadians who ended up in the fertile prairies around Eunice.

At a reception one perfect Spring evening  we chatted with the French Consul to New Orleans about Le Grand Dérangement des Acadiens when they were exiled and then enjoyed the view from a flower-filled deck overlooking Bayou Fuselier—at a beautiful restaurant that is part of the emerging arts community of Arnaudville.

We scored smoked boudin from a drive-through window across the street from our RV park. We at a LOT of boudin this week.Boudin

Another morning it was off to Lafayette for a trip down memory lane for me. This is where I got my first job out of college, directing an early morning TV show that was half in Cajun French, half in English. We had sweet potato and pecan pancakes at Dwyer’s Café, the owner of which was once my mess chef when I was a platoon leader for a National Guard unit in Lafayette. I’m convinced we had the best field rations in military history.

We were serenaded that afternoon by a 90-year old volunteer at the charming historic interpretation village of Vermillionville. He teased two young women in the front row asking where their men were and if they were married. “Not in this state,” they answered wryly, smiling at each other, and then gently back at him. We smiled at each other too.Docent

Then it was home for soak in the hot tub and a nap.

Old friends. New Friends. Great food.  Great music. Cultural quirks. Inspiring stories. We’ve only been on the road a week, and we’ve only traveled 100 miles, but so far this adventure is everything we imagined it to be and more. I’ll expand upon much of this in the next few posts.