The place used to host over twenty thousand holidaymakers every summer season. This year, it boasts little more than empty beaches spanning to the horizon and sand of a somewhat unnatural color. Why the situation has changed so drastically and who the culprit is can be easily learned as soon as one crosses the bridge conjoining mainland with Grand Isle. In the front yard, one of the residents posted signs featuring SpongeBob characters. ‘Seriously … when can we go back in the water,’ asks one of them. ‘Thanks BP,’ satirizes another.
Grand Isle is an 8-mile-long strip of land stretching between Louisiana and the Gulf of Mexico. It is connected to the mainland via a causeway bridge which caught fired last year and had to be replaced with a new one. The island is notorious for its hurricane attacks history. In August 2005, it was severely affected by hurricane Katrina which destroyed numerous houses along the coast (this is the location of all dwellings on Grand Isle). This year, residents were not affected by a natural force. Instead, they had to suffer the implications of a man-made disaster. The oil spill reached the shores of Grand Isle, depriving numerous inhabitants of their main income source (fishing, catching crabs, shrimps, etc.) and scaring tourists off the beach. That meant a substantial drop in the revenue for motel and restaurant owners. On the other hand, I feel compelled to mention that lodging was strongly overpriced and totally not on par with the quality offered.
Currently, only one zone of the beach is open and it is supposedly safe to bathe there. Rumor has it that Barack Obama visited Grand Isle to take a bath in the gulf and prove that it was already risk-free to do so. Hard to say how successful his demonstration was. After all, he entered the water black and left it having exactly the same skin color. No oil could be seen on his body. I decided to check it for myself and since my body hasn’t gone black I have to say there is indeed no danger looming in that part of the shore. However, it doesn’t necessarily mean that tourists are storming Grand Isle again. We spent half a day there and didn’t meet anyone except for three middle-aged women, one of whom was a permanent resident of the island. Talking to them gave us some first-hand insight into the problems faced by the inhabitants. It turns out insurance companies make use of similar strategies regardless of which country they are located in. In the post-Katrina period, they were clinging onto all excuses imaginable to pay the victims as little as possible. Additionally, there are underlying racial tensions in the local community. If anybody seriously thinks that ethnic aversions are a thing of the past, they should head southwards and talk to the locals. We heard people complaining about the fact that there are too many African Americans who don’t even try to get a job, live off government grants and receive free grocery shopping coupons. It is not my intention to discuss the credibility of such statements here, yet they definitely show that racial symbiosis is still little more than a utopian term in this country.
The previously mentioned women approached us while we were taking a bath and scrutinizing whether our bodies hadn’t already become somewhat brownish. They were probably excited to see some fresh meat, young gigolos displaying their muscles and abs. We touched upon dozens of topics, ranging from Grand Isle everyday existence struggles to family stories. They have been through a lot in life but garnered enough strength to overcome tragedies and keep on going. Best regards to you ladies if you ever get to read that. It’s a bummer we couldn’t join you for that dinner; I’m sure it would have turned into the wildest party Grand Isle has seen in years.
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