Bayou Bonjour

Welcome to Louisiana everybody!

After zipping all the way around the world, my taste for the exotic has only strengthened. This time, though, I’m finding it so much closer to home.

My flight to Louisiana was less than three hours from home, but right away, I felt as if I’d landed in a separate country. They might fly the American flag on flagpoles down here, but everything else is pretty much foreign. I love it.

I’ve only been here two days, but already I’ve eaten some delicious duck gumbo, slept in an old Southern mansion, pulled some giant fish out of the bayou (and gobbled them up, blackened), and fully observed the state religion, which is football, be they Saints or Tigers.

I’ve also been speaking French — far more than I had imagined I would. In Houma, Louisiana I ran into one Mr. Elgin Thibodeaux, a true Cajun, born and raised on the bayou. His son Waylon Thibodeaux, (a renowned Cajun musician) was playing at the local music festival and so we chatted, en français.

One thing I’ve learned right away about Cajuns: Cajuns don’t call their language Cajun — it’s French, pure and simple. They might refer to it as “our French” and other dialects of French as “their French”, but it’s all French. And far more people speak it then might let on at first.

So, Bienvenue à la Louisiane. There is much exploring to be done in this funky corner of America, so stick around for the grand adventures ahead. Also, something tells me we will be eating very well on this journey down the bayou.

Join me on Twitter to follow along in real time and polish up your high school French. You’ll need it down here.