“I haven't always traveled south, but I've seen nothing as extraordinary as the south. The South is an airplane door that opens and an intoxicating smell of green that sucks us in, the heat, the humidity glued to the skin, the laughter of the people, the noise, the confusion of a luggage terminal, an excess of everything that swallows us up and drags us along like a gigantic wave. You feel like closing your eyes, breaking gestures and letting yourself go.” Miguel Sousa Tavares
The states that follow after washington, according to the map of the United States, are part of the south of the country. We went through Virginia, North Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi but more are the states that are part of the “deep south” of the United States. These states are known for being a region very linked to agriculture and consequently with a slave regime until the American Civil War.
It was when Lincoln won the elections that the states came together and founded The Confederacy. Those who ruled them were essentially against the end of slavery. During the 4 years of existence, the Confederate states wanted to show their independence, but the central government of the United States claimed that they were just rebel states. Civil war broke out in 1861 and was led by Robert Lee, eventually surrendering later. We had the opportunity to visit the place where the end of the war agreement was signed, McLean's house.
The south remains hot and humid. The pronunciation of people from the South is difficult to understand, we are always asking them to repeat it.... the food is more intense, and they say it gets better for the South. We saw villages that live on agriculture, but we also saw many closed businesses, a desertified interior. In my analysis, I understood why Trump won. I, and note that I speak only for myself, had a much more urban, cosmopolitan, developed vision of the United States. But on this trip we went through kilometers and kilometers of road with no one, fields, a house here, another there, villages with closed businesses, empty cafes, no one on the street. Where are these people who have already given life to these places?
We sing Sweet Virginia, Mississippi girl, Sweet Home Alabama, and we know the story of India Noccalula. Noccalula was the daughter of the chief of a Cherokee tribe who, with the entry of the whites, was forced to flee further south. In Alabama they found a Creek tribe. To show that they came in peace, her father promised her to a sub-chief of the Creek tribe, but Noccalula was in love with a warrior from her own tribe and committed suicide on her wedding day.
It was to Louisiana that we surrendered. As we walked along the coast, I was thinking about how wonderful it is to see all this. But how is it possible to assimilate everything? So much new, what will be left of all this we are seeing? Glad there are pictures to help you remember because I don't want to forget this place. I felt like sticking a post-it on my brain, memory to retain. Water everywhere, on one side the sea, on the other swamps. The houses built from the first floor, down only a structure that raises them so as not to be buffeted by the water. Ivo saw an alligator, I was with Dune and lost it, on the road a snake snaked under the mammoth. So much wildlife, such a different place. The colorful houses accompany us until we reach New Orleans.
all Fujifilm xt2 photos