Six months after the storm, the damage to New Orleans is still widespread and devastating. The barge that pushed through a levee as the lower ninth ward flooded still lies on top of the house it crushed. Traffic lights don't work, even on major avenues. Entire neighborhoods go dark as the sun goes down, with no electricity, gas, water, or residents. Even after seeing hundreds of images and hours of coverage, the scope of the destruction is staggering. The fact that these images were made six months after the storm is both incredible and tragic, as many places in the city look as if they were just hit by the floodwaters and high winds.

Army Corps of Engineers contractors drive 72' steel beams into earthen levees, extended families pull rotting drywall from their flooded homes, immigrants from Texas and Peru lay new roofs, volunteers in Chalmette keep spirits high, and the Vietnamese community of New Orleans East plans for a very bright future. All over New Orleans there are signs of rebuilding as crews labor seven days per week. Some workers, like the Bonilla Brothers, I met only once. Others, like Mr. Huynh, I followed through the excitement and challenge of rebuilding in a city without a master plan. Their disparate stories weave a single strand of hope and promise for the comeback and transformation of one of America's most historic cities.

Note: See below for stories of the new latino immigrant worker community visibly reconstructing homes and businesses across New Orleans.

The original Crescent City survived the storm and flooding, leaving the French Quarter, the Marigny, and Uptown largely intact. From these historic neighborhoods and the recovering Garden District, Treme, Midtown, and Upper Ninth Ward, music, dance, and Mardi Gras have gained strength since the devastation of Katrina and the floods. Mardi Gras Indians, a unique and opaque New Orleans tradition, made their comeback during Mardi Gras, and the city's beloved Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club rolled on Fat Tuesday. Residents returned to historic intersections and favorite parades to savor the New Orleans they remember, love, and protect for future generation.

One of my goals in New Orleans was to understand the workers who have traveled thousands of miles to work in dangerous demolition and construction work rebuilding a city most had never visited. Before Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans reported one of the smallest Latino populations in any American city to the Census, about 3% of its total population. Although demographic numbers are now difficult to find and impossible to verify, the burgeoning Latino population is now an integral part of the city. Experienced workers, mostly men, have come from North Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Kansas, Washington, California, and beyond. Younger immigrants arrive from every state of Mexico, from Guatemala, El Salvador, Peru, Ecuador, and more. These men work long hours seven days a week on the tens of thousands of partially destroyed homes. They share information to find housing and a taste of home. Some hope to settle nearby, while most plan to work for a few years earning far more than they could at home before they return to families and children left behind.
In addition to working men and women from across the Americas, I met committed community organizations like the Mississippi Immigrants Rights Alliance (MIRA!) and volunteers organized to provide health services for these new immigrants. Employers somertimes refuse to pay workers for their work, especially if they suspect the immigrants lack the proper papers. Nonetheless, immigrant workers in New Orleans have coupled their destinies to that of the great city they work to rebuild. Many thanks to the workers who welcomed into their rooms and tents and worksites and hiring sites. They shared their stories with me, some of which I tried to capture and share here.