50@50 – Acadian Bayou, LA
Southern Louisiana feels like another country. The Acadian’s rich culture is deeply entrenched here; many Cajuns and their ancestors have spent their entire lives living, working, and farming, fishing and, of course, creating music here. A federally recognized ethnic group, Cajuns number over 2 million people, residing in all of Southern Louisiana, but the heart of Acadiana are 10 parishes in the south central portion of the state.[1]
I approached from the northwest. One thinks bayous and swamps do not make for great hiking opportunities, but the Louisiana Hiking club lists a multitude of hikes for anyone interested. My first and most ambitious hike lay in the Kisatchie National Forest – a surprisingly hilly area in the northernmost section of Cajun country. The seven mile Backbone trail is allegedly easy to moderate, but recent fire damage made my initial experience unpleasant, so I abandoned this after a mile, and continued south to the Louisiana Arboretum. Adjoining Chicot State Park, north of Ville Platte, the arboretum boasts six miles of easy trails, with a great variety of native Louisiana plant life, hardwood forest and wetlands. Established in 1961, it was the first state supported arboretum in the United States. I explored about four miles of mulch and plank trails through different vegetation areas. Summer, with its sticky heat, is not peak season, so except for the deer and other wildlife, I had the trails to myself.
My true destination for this cultural exploration was Lake Martin, south of Breaux Bridge and nestled in the heart St. Martin parish. The Mississippi River once flowed here, and after it changed course 3000 years ago, sediments gradually filled in the swamp, but in a suspended lowland state, waiting for the river to return.[2] Seasonally, the water level fluctuated widely with floods in the spring and drying out in the fall. In the 1950s, a levee was build to reduce these fluctuations and create a reserve for fishing and hunting. The unexpected result is the largest nesting area of wading birds in the United States. The Lake Martin area also supports one of the largest populations of long (over 10 feet) alligators.
I wanted to understand how the culture of Southern Louisiana, Acadiana, came to be. Indigenous inhabitation of southern Louisiana had always been sparse. Archeological evidence suggests that people have occupied the area for at least 6,000 years. Chitamacha people are one of the only known natives of the region; their language has no relation to other known language families. The tribe has dwelled in its present location, now a reservation, since 1764, though early 18th century French expeditions nearly exterminated the Chitamacha. Skilled horticulturalists, they lived off the land in self governing villages.[3] Other tribes migrated to Louisiana in the 18th and 19th centuries.
The migration of settlers to this area begins in France. Peasant farmers and fisherman from western France, in 1604, they settled in Acadia, what is now Nova Scotia, other Maritime Provinces and part of Maine. In 1713 Great Britain permanent acquired Acadia, but many Acadians, staunch Catholics, refused to swear allegiance to the British crown and church. So in 1755, the British began the “great upheaval”, further spurred by the Treaty of Paris (1763) of the Acadians out of Canada. Only after many had moved to Louisiana, some via French Haiti, seeking to live under the French flag government, did they discover France had ceded Louisiana to Spain in 1762. The Spanish, also Catholic, allowed the devout Acadians to continue to speak their language, and otherwise pursue their livelihoods with minimal interference. By the early 1800s, nearly 4000 Acadians had arrived and settled in Louisiana.
With the influx and intermarriage of Native Americans, French Creole, Spanish and other Anglo European immigrants, the Cajun culture and language evolved. They adapted their traditions to create unique architecture and to integrate the rich local food sources of the new landscape into their cooking. Native Americans are credited with introducing the lowly crawfish to the Acadian immigrants. Breaux Bridge, just north of Lake Martin, is the Crawfish capital of the world, and I just missed the annual Crawfish Boil!
Cajun music also reflects a blending of cultures, harkening back to French country music, often in triple time, predominantly performed with fiddle (the Germans ostensibly introduced the accordion while passing through) and often in Cajun French. Creole music, and later Zydeco, is used to describe music of Creoles of French, African and Spanish descent and incorporates a metal washboard called a Zydeco Rubboard and other homemade instruments such as spoons. The most contemporary Zydeco music also includes typical band instruments – such as guitars and keyboards, even horns. But it is the rhythm and energy – like adding Tabasco sauce – that makes this music so unique and compelling.
Staying at an authentically restored 19th century Creole cottage, I was immersed in a symphony of unknown sounds. My hostess, Madeleine, told me how to listen for the low growl of a male alligator. She helped me identify the call of the tree frogs that clung to the exterior banister up to my room. I sat outside on the porch for hours – I ate my dinner there and listened – completely transported.
Just before dusk, I drove down to the rookery, a planned pathway into the swamp at the south end of the lake (a trail along the other side of the lake is closed during alligator nesting season). Nervously, I wondered if an alligator could leap up high enough to get my toes.
The next morning, I meandered a mile north along the road, and out a land pier jutting out into the lake. Nature’s loud orchestra from the night before changed players and the morning birds and bugs created their own distinct sound palette.
I do have to plan the timing of some of my trips better. My hostess said that Wednesday nights are the best times to hear local music for a local audience. But I was not there on a Wednesday. Next time…
[1] This implies there was overlap of the occupied area, but my research does not indicate any.
[2] http://www.nps.gov/history/delta/volume2/apdxf.htm (accessed 6/25/11).
[3] If you look at a topographical map of southern Louisiana, you can see, via the lakes and low lying areas, how the river once flowed. I actually took a geography class in college studying the lower Mississippi Valley.
[4] Lots of information on Acadian history and culture come from regional brochures and from visiting museums. Two helpful sites: http://www.nps.gov/jela/historyculture/index.htm and http://www.acadian-cajun.com/ (accessed 6/25/11).