Adventures of a First-Time Traveler: Part Three

Blogger’s note:

It’s hard to believe that almost three weeks has passed since my trip to New Orleans. Time is passing quickly but the memory of my very first trip remains very much in front of me. It’s a trip I won’t soon (if ever) forget. For those of you new to my blog posts, you may want to go back and read the first two 😉

My adventures in the Big Easy were NOT easy. I’ll be the first to tell you that. After seeking out some ‘gators in the swamp, (a $50 swamp boat tour that provided no evidence of any gators; yet DID include Raccoons eating wieners. Don’t ask.) things got a little weird. If annoyed geese following your tour boat and cup-stealing boars aren’t weird enough, well, my friend, hold onto your beads.

We continued our tour of the local hot spots and by this point on our trip, walking past traveling Jazz bands and drunken partiers constantly had become somewhat normal to me. It is very accepted that at any given point, you can be completely intoxicated and basically be free and always carry an “anything goes” attitude. People skateboard past you singing loudly without a care in the world. Some wear gold lame suits and don’t give a flying fuck what you or anyone else thinks of them. Ah, freedom. I tried to soak up their laissez-faire energy as much as I could and wondered if I had to move to New Orleans to find that.

The afternoon was open for Voodoo shop and museum touring and my Spidey-senses were on overload. You know that big “Warning! Warning!  Red alert, Danger, danger” (the annoying sound that came from Max and Ruby’s robot)  that sometimes screams in your mind when you know you shouldn’t do something? You do it anyway. As we approached the first stop of the day, I could feel instant stomach pain, difficulty breathing and an overall sense of ill-well. Basically, do not enter. Did I listen? NOPE.

Here’s why:

I came here to have an experience. I was hell bent on doing it all.  I knew about voodoo and the Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau. We spent a few hours in a workshop that was based entirely on her and the history of voodoo/Black Magic. I should probably tell you (if you don’t know me personally) no, I do not practice voodoo or woo woo or magic of any kind. I’m more of a talk to dead people kinda girl. 😉  But it was hella interesting to hear all about the culture, history and incredible stories about NOLA’s most famous woman. In fact, there was an ENTIRE museum made in her honour! I know because I went there…. Picture the creepiest building you can, add a creepy old lady who runs the joint, mix in some altars all dedicated to the Voodoo Queen and you got yourself a recipe for get me outta here.

Room upon room was filled with altars where you could bestow offerings in the form of gifts to the deceased Queen in the hopes of having your wish granted by her. I was “fine” with the energies for a few minutes (seconds) and then I got to the back room, far left corner. That’s when I felt it. Ice cold energy surrounded me near the back altar and I felt almost threatened. Like someone did not want us there. That feeling I had earlier to NOT go in was definitely being confirmed at that exact moment. I almost froze because I wanted to make sure I was not, in fact, imagining this “presence” before I ran like hell to the front doors.

Many times, on this tour, I began to doubt my abilities, not just in this museum. I began to feel like I must be imagining all of this stuff I was seeing and feeling because nobody else seemed to notice. If they did, why were they were keeping it mum? I wanted to scream: “DOES ANYONE ELSE SEE/HEAR THAT?” Why was everyone so calm? Couldn’t they feel what I was feeling in every. Single. place we stopped at? Maybe I was crazy. Taking a breath (because it was hard to breath in there), I thought: “Dude, you are so not crazy. This is the exact thing you teach others. To not be afraid and to TRUST what you feel is going on.”

I’m in freaking New Orleans, baby.

I kept going in for more.


Who do? I do!!

Black Magic? Sign me up. Oh look! Another voodoo doll with pins in it and someone’s photo attached. That must be a good thing. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. :/

Couple stores later….

Oh, look! More voodoo dolls! Yay! Let’s go in!! This particular store had the strangest feeling and energy to it. I am SO not posting a link here. I remember the woman working the cash “may” have had black eyes, just a guess…. but I walked right past her and tried to fly under her radar. In the back of the store, there was a larger room with even MORE, you guessed it, voodoo dolls. I was just minding my own beeswax when shit got real. Like a scene from a movie, people were dropping to the ground, help was being called for and that was the moment when the hooks went in.






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