We continued along the southern Louisiana coast through the land of swamps and bayous (with an alligator sighting right next to a strip mall), to the Chitimacha Reservation. The Chitimacha are one of four federally recognized tribes in Louisiana. I walked up to all of the tribal buildings, hoping to maybe play at their school, but all were deserted. I even wandered into the maze of their tribe-operated casino to ask for intel, and was told that the day after Easter is a holiday and everyone is hanging out at home. No luck. 

Onward to New Iberia, a cute city of 30,000. I went into a dive bar and chatted up the locals, asking for advice on where to play. We checked out their recommendations but none felt fitting. I sat dejected in the beautiful but deserted waterfront park as the sun started to set - I'd spent all day trying to find a place to play and all were dead-ends. What am I doing with myself? Joel suggested we set up in the park and play anyway - if I played some notes, I would feel less bad about myself, and who knows what would happen? 

Indeed, soon after I started playing, a man came up and starting dancing to my Bach. In return, he sang John Legend beautifully for me a cappella, and we performed Amazing Grace together. We then chatted - I asked if he was coming home from work, since his white collared shirt had some food stains, and he told me with a “No ma’am” that he is homeless and sleeps right behind where I was playing. He told me he got a sociology degree in college and had a basketball career, which he ruined when he got addicted to heroin, but he’s been clean 40 years. We hugged and took a photo, and before we parted ways, he asked me for money.