I woke up a little late this morning, but not to late to get me some of Rocky Sonnier's famous Bayou boudin, cracklin and hogshead cheese. That's his speciality and he makes it from scratch. I sat around and talked with him for a couple of hours about music. He knows everyone and everyone has stayed in these cabins and played here. I'm sitting on a bench outside my cabin to write this blog. Rocky's got pictures in his cafe of musicians sitting and pickin' on the same bench.... Merle Haggard, Hank Williams Jr.. Jo-el Sonnier and a host of others. While I was there, Sam Broussard, guitar player for Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys, came in and told Rocky he was meeting his other bandmates here to drive to the airport. They were going to tour in Russia. Rocky asked him if I got my guitar would he give me a quick lesson in playing my favorite Jole Blon. I hustled to my cabin and grabbed the guitar.
When I got back, Mr. Broussard wanted to ask all about the guitar, but I knew his van would pull up any moment. He asked about every part of the guitar and took his time checking it out. I got out my phone camera and got some video of him playing a very smooth melody of my favorite Cajun song. I wish I could play like that!
You can see the video at
http://www.youtube.com/rebornguitars
After the van pulled up and Mr. Broussard left, Rocky and I continued to talk music for an hour or so. He took me out to his truck to listen to some cassette tapes he had made of various groups..... old stuff, bootleg recordings and such. We talked everything from Jimmy Rogers-the Singing Brakeman to Jerry Lee Lewis-the Killer.
Rocky drew me a map to a museum about Arcadian history in the next town. I made the trip and was the only person in the museum. They had a 30 minute movie that stared every hour and I got there just in time to watch it. The theater held about 200 people, but I had the place to myself. I took my customary seat in the back row by the door and watched the film.
It was a great film and really brought the Cajun history to life. It followed the french peasants as they migrated to Acadie in Nova Scotia (New Scotland) in the late 1600. They settled and prospered and at the time were called "The Happiest People on Earth". But, they were caught in the middle of continuing strife between England and France. The area changed domains back and forth, until the area ended up being ruled by the British. The Acadiens were allowed to stay on the land and were allowed to remain neutral in any wars with France. This happy time lasted for 45 years. But the Arcadiens prospered so well, the views of them changed by the British rulers. In 1713 they were required to sign an unconditional oath to England. The Acadiens refused and were rounded up and imprisoned. Abandoned by France, the people were loaded onto ships. Of 6000 that were put into the hulls of ships, only a few thousand lived through to be scattered about the British colonies. Families were torn apart and separated to ensure there would be no rebellion. As groups were deposited in the various colonies, there were sick and dieing of small pox and malnutrition. Since they were French catholics, they were not welcomed by the English settlers. Most perished under the most horrible conditions - stripped off their lands, separated from their families and tossed out among strangers.
France finally intervened and helped transport the scattered survivors back to France. But these people were no longer French and could not assimilate back into french culture. They had their own language and longed for Acadie, their old homeland. These displaced people later migrated to the Spanish controlled area of Louisiana. This area is now called Arcadiana. The name Arcadians was elided to Cajuns, like Indians was elided to Injuns. That small group that first came to Louisiana are the names of the old families - names I've heard everyday since I have been here.
I spent most of my day in the museum and the nearby Cajun cultural center. I met an old fiddler named Merlin Fontenot. I sat and talked with him for an hour and a half as he played every song I could think of. He told me about his life playing fiddle everywhere from the Grand Ole Opry to New Orleans. He told me about playing Ava Maria at his sister's funeral, standing right next to the casket. He said he loved that song, but could only play it once through before he broke down and cried. Even with my limited musical experience, I now the feeling of playing music while mourning the passing of a loved one.
I spent the last of the evening sitting with a couple from Houma, the center of the BP oil spill. They told me how people lost their jobs and livelyhoods when the shrimp and fishing was closed. They made sure to tell me that it is still not back to normal, but BP is long gone. They quoted me BP's exact dollar profit for the past ten years. The gentleman looked at me and said, " 25 billion.... I don't even know ho many zeroes that is"
I don't either....
