South of the South

by Pableaux Johnson

"You were right," said a friend back from a trip to my old stomping grounds. "It's not like the South at all. It's barely even America."

Prior to her travels in Louisiana's Cajun Country, Carol and I had a running debate on the practical definition of "Southern." Being an Alabamian by birth, she'd routinely make sweeping generalizations about "The South" and include everything below of the dreaded Mason/Dixon line. In one fell swoop, she would describe territories from Charlottesville to Sweetwater and Muskogee to Miami. The southern states, by geography and history, shared a common culture. On the other side of her imaginary line, I assume that Northerners felt a similar offhanded dedication.

But since I grew up in southwest Louisiana -- a.k.a. French Louisiana, Acadiana, or Cajun Country -- I always took issue with her broad grouping, especially the part about "our common culture." "Listen," I'd say, "in my home town, most of us are Catholic, cooking is the national sport, and grandmothers curse in French when they lose a card game." Literally and figuratively, south Louisiana sits apart from the mostly Protestant Deep South -- an cultural anomaly located "south of the South." As for her sacred blue/gray boundry, Acadiana's schoolchildren grow up observing a different cultural frontier -- Interstate 10 that divides their home from and the United States. "Go too far north of that" I'd tell her, "and you've actually got to deal with Americans."

So to settle the issue once and for all, Carol opted against a trip to crowded New Orleans and instead decided to explore Acadiana, the largely rural French region that starts at the Sabine and extends eastward to the Mississipi River. Using the oilpatch capital of Lafayette as a home base, she lived as the locals do, driving to the small towns and indulging in the distinctly non-Southern culture. Within a few days, she had two-stepped and drank breakfast beers in a crowded Mamou barroom and stomped her way through a zydeco street dance. In true Cajun fashion, Carol never stopped eating as she gorged herself on peppery Breaux Bridge crawfish, slurped dozens of fresh Gulf Oysters, and kept one eye out for tiny po boy shops. In between meals and dances, she explored the area's subtropical landscape, driving 2-lane bayou roads through swaying sugar cane fields and oilfield highways down to Vermilion Bay. After a few solid days of eating and wandering, she saw Acadiana as a land apart; a functionally foreign country on American soil. Mason and Dixon be damned.

The variety and richness of everyday Cajun culture makes Acadiana an exciting travel destination, but April brings a special excuse to head eastward. During the third week of April, the city of Lafayette throws Festival International de Louisiane -- the country's best international dance party and a human-scale alternative to New Orlean's overcrowded Jazzfest.

In terms of practical geography, Cajun Country lies due east of Orange on Interstate 10, with its defacto capital of Lafayette about halfway between Houston and New Orleans -- roughly three hour drive from either. As a travel destination, south Louisiana usually plays a distant second fiddle to its city cousin New Orleans, whose raucous festival traditions and self-contained decadence districts draw a steady stream of tourists from all over the world. In contrast, Acadiana is more of a tourist region, with reasonably priced cultural highlights spread across the fertile countryside. In this way, it's not unlike California's agricultural Napa Valley with an emphasis on seafood and street dances instead of free wine tastings.

Cajun Country owes its national character and subsequent tourist appeal to a hybrid French culture unique to the region. Beginning in the late 18th century, Acadiana was settled by refugees from the French Canadian frontier province of Acadie (now Nova Scotia). Forcably ejected for refusing allegiance to the British crown, the exiled Acadians found their way southward and established small agricultural and fishing communities throughout southern Louisiana, which Acadian Louisiana, later shortened to the modern name Acadiana. As the Acadians settled into their new home, their identity went through the natural abbreviation process, first known as "'Cadiens," then to the relatively modern term "Cajuns." The French dialect, now known as Cajun French, also adapted to its new surroundings, adding phrases from Spanish, English, and local Native American dialects.The Acadian communities flourished in relative obscurity until the discovery of offshore oil fields in the twentieth century brought improved roads and a flood of American influences to the region. Local economies still depend heavily on agriculture (mostly sugar cane, rice, and cattle farming) and fishing in addition to the boom-and-bust petroleum industry.

But despite a sometimes rocky transition to modernity, Cajun language and folkways still thrive over two hundred years later. Accordion-based Cajun bands sing plaintive fiddle ballads in their native French dialect, while percussive zydeco bands croon away in Creole, the black version of the Cajun language. Each small town honors its local crop with a city-wide festivals -- a convenient collective excuse for dancing in the street and overindulging in the local cuisine. St. Martinville celebrates the joys of local peppers as Rayne holds its annual Frog Festival. All this in an environment blissfully untouched by Anglo-Baptist restraint and asceticism.

The regional capital of Lafayette celebrates virtually year-round, with street dances and festivals nearly every week. But their most notable party is the spring celebration Festival International de Louisiane ,when all French hybrid cultures converge and unite through music, food, and art. Lafayette's Festival now provides an attractive alternative the now overcrowded New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival (Jazzfest), which runs its first weekend concurrantly with Festival. With its managable crowd sizes and spirited performances the New York Times called "the best unknown folk music festival in the United States."

Held annually during the third week of April, Festival International showcases the performing and visual arts of the French-speaking world. Known to Acadiana natives only as Festival, the annual celebration routinely draws energetic performers from five continents and the best musicians from all over Louisiana. Home-grown zydeco rhythms share the stage with driving Quebecois rock and the Central African drumbeats of Barundi. Traditional musicians from Martinique and Madagascar follow powerful New Orleans gospel choirs. Belgian stilt-walkers roam the streets along with hard-strutting bands of technicolor Mardi Gras Indians, the Crescent City's famous neighborhood dance-and-drum troupes.

Now celebrating its lucky thirteenth anniversary, Festival attracts audiences of 150,000 (instead of Jazzfest's 450,000) with most participants coming from Lafayette and smaller towns around Acadiana. During the evening and weekend performances, Festival transforms Lafayette's downtown district into a roped-off pedestrian mall, making it easy to walk among the four stages. Countless catering and concession trailers sell tempting local and unusual specialties without price gouging typical of other festival food courts. Festival's manageable size make it distinctly relaxed, family-friendly event. And best of all, since Festival International is sustained both spiritually and economically by the community of Lafayette, five days of open air performance, artistic expression, and cultural cross-pollination are provided free of charge for anyone willing to dance along.

As for its tourist accommodations, Lafayette lacks the centralized infrastructure of urban New Orleans, but serves as a perfect jumping-off point for exploring the true treasures of Acadiana -- the smaller towns located within thirty miles of the regional capital. With a hotel room in Lafayette, you can drive northward toward the Cajun prairie or eastward into the swampy basin in a matter of minutes. For local lodging and event information, the Lafayette Convention and Visitors Commission (CVC) (toll free 800. 346-1958) provides all you'll ever need and then some. A valuable resource clearing house for all kinds of travel info, their easily-navigable WWWeb site (www.lafayettetravel.com) lists everything from room availability in the Acadiana's hotels and B&B's to impressive restaurant and detailed local driving maps. During peak tourist weekends, the bureau's staff tracks hotel vacancies and other lifesaving information for the last-minute traveler.

At its core, Lafayette is a sprawling oilfield town, but the working class city contains more than its share of notable restaurants and classic dancehalls. The locally famous po-boy sandwiches at the Old Tyme Grocery (218 W. St. Mary Blvd., 318. 235-8165) epitomize the Cajun approach to eating out -- huge portions of exceptional food presented in a casual atmosphere. These monster sandwiches come overstuffed with anything from perfectly fried shrimp to shaved pastrami to spicy meatballs in "red tomato gravy." It generally takes two average-capacity eaters to eat one of these gargantuan beauties, so order carefully, choose a partner and prepare to be stuffed silly for about five bucks. Closer to downtown, T-Coon's Restaurant (740 Jefferson Street Phone 232-3803) also serves up huge of Cajun homestyle favorites to a brisk lunch business. Specials change daily, but the savory smothered rabbit (served on Wednedays) and oversized yeast rolls are so tasty they can make grown men weep.

For a more upscale experience that's still comfortably casual, head to Prejean's (3480 Hwy 167 North, 318.896-3247)for inspired variations on Cajun classics and live music nightly. Their extensive menu offers an amazing range of dishes from rich seafood gumbos to roast duck in a spicy-sweet cane syrup glaze. One of their specialties -- Wild Mushroom and Andouille Bisque -- ranks as the nearly perfect soup. Earthy mushroom flavors and a smoky local sausage combine flawlessly in a rich, spicy cream base. It's heaven in a bowl, because as much as I begged, they wouldn't sell it by the barrel. Elsewhere around town, local zydeco legends play weekends at Hamilton's Club (1808 Verot School Rd., 318-984-5583), and El Sido's (803 Martin Luther King Dr. (318-235-0647) while eclectic local bands and road shows play Grant Street Dancehall (113 W. Grant St., 318.237-8513).

Beyond the confines of Lafayette, the best way to see Acadiana is by driving the back roads that honeycomb the area. The small towns that surround Lafayette are each famous for a different specialty, attraction or bit of local history and are all easily covered by a series of short day trips. All you need to do is choose the kind of land you'd like to see -- swamp, bayou, or prairie. The Lafayette CVC can provide you with their publication "Acadiana Tour Guide" which contains several self-guided itineraries for touring Cajun Country. Fans of Florida's Okefenokee will likely make a 10-minute eastward shot to Henderson, gateway to the expansive Atchafalaya Basin swamp. Henderson's location on the edge of the Atchafalaya makes it the best place to explore the moss-covered swamp primeval, prefereably by guided boat. McGee's Landing (1337 Henderson Levee Road, 800.445-6681) offers ninety-minute tours that explore the widely varied plant and wildlife of these amazing wetlands. The tours (four tours daily, adults $12, children $6) usually include at least one sighting of the everbody's favorite reptile -- the sometimes ferocious and always delicious Louisiana alligator. On the return trip, follow the signs to the unassuming Robin's Restaurant (1407 Henderson Highway) and enjoy their rich crawfish etoufee (crawfish tails smothered in rich sauce and served over rice) or sample other beasties fresh from the nearby Basin.

Leaving Lafayette in a southerly direction will take you toward Acadiana's bayou country. The slow-moving Bayou Teche winds its way through the sugar fields and coastal plains of St. Martin and Iberia Parishes. New Iberia's historic Main Street, home of the antebellum showpiece Shadows on the Teche (117 East Main St.) is a stunning show of historical archicture under the canopy of moss-draped live oak trees. Seven miles southeast of New Iberia, private salt dome of Avery Island contains the famed McIlhenny Tabasco Factory (tours Mon-Sat, 318 365-8173) and stunning Jungle Gardens bird sanctuary (318 369-6243). A quick jaunt down Highway 14 leads to the double-squared town of Abbeville, where dueling restaurant dynasties Black's Oyster Bar (314 Pere Merget, 318.893-4266) and Dupuy's Oyster Shop (108 South Main St. 318.893-2336) battle for the hearts and tastebuds of loyal mollusk lovers.

And finally, there's the escape that leads northward, into the Cajun Prairie and dangerously close to the southern border of America. This is the land where cattle graze contentedly, flooded rice fields double as crawfish farms, and Mardi Gras celebrants ride from farm to farm on horseback, singing for chickens in the rural courier tradition. It's also home to the peaceful gardens of Grand Coteau, the zydeco palaces around Opelousas, and the beautifully restored Liberty Theater (200 W. Park Ave., 318.457-7389) in Eunice. On Saturday nights, the Liberty hosts Rendez-vous des Cajuns, a Cajun French radio program could be subtitled "A Cajun Prairie Companion." From 6-8 o'clock every Saturday night. host and folklorist Barry Jean Ancelet takes the stage for a two hour broadcast of Cajun music, stories and culture that beams outward from the northern edge of Acadiana.

After any one of these trips, you'll return to Lafayette amazed at how much culture can be packed into one little section of one tiny country. And hopefully as you head north or west back into Texas and America, you'll remember the quick-stepping, hard-eating times that can be had every day in the land that lies south of the South.