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In the movie, "The Big Easy," set in the historic and romantic old city of New
Orleans, Louisiana, the hero and heroine at one point are running for their
lives. They race from a French Quarter neighborhood, full of old street lamps
and wrought-iron balconies, directly into a swamp to hide.
For this to happen in real life, the characters would have a long run, indeed.
Louisiana's swamp country - Cajun country - is off by itself, 160 or so
kilometers (100 or so miles) away in the southwest part of the state.
Fifty years ago and more, before the big interstate highway brought many
tourists with cameras into their midst, Acadian - or Cajun - families, descended
from French-speaking Catholics expelled from Canada in the 1700s, moved into
these secluded wetlands. They found a way of life - fishing, scooping up tasty
little crustaceans called crawfish, and trapping mink, otter, beaver, and
muskrat.
Once mostly solitary and suspicious, many Cajuns have come to enjoy visits by
curious strangers, and some have carved out a good living giving tours of the
eerie cypress swamps, in which stumps from trees that were once wantonly
harvested for shipment to Europe remain as underwater obstacles.
The guides seem to know every landmark among the stumps and dangling Spanish
moss. They even know, or pretend to know, every alligator by name.
It's easy to get lost in this primordial, misty, mysterious place.
One can only imagine how scary it would be at night, with owls hooting, water
snakes sliding past in the dark, the moon passing behind the silhouettes of
trees, and that spooky story about voodoo rituals that you read the night before
seeming all too real.