In the backyard we are first greeted by two massive dogs, Diamond and Buddy, pressing their faces and paws against the fence surrounding their pen, scuffling for attention and licking away at dozens of eager digits poking through the openings. A third and much smaller pooch appropriately named Monkey later makes a grand entrance during our hosts introduction. Out of the back door comes David, our Taskmaster for the week. He is tall and slender, with eyes that shine of both generosity and sincerity, and display a light blue glint which gives one a hint of the humble intellect pursuing a PhD in Agriculture. He gives a brief introduction and history of the building

It was the first African-American owned and operated business in the Ninth Ward, dating back to the mid 1900's. Apparently after the flood, Turner contacted theBlairs and was given permission for his venture. David led us out front and across the street to a freshly cleared lot which the school had recently purchased and where some of the group would subsequently be segmenting into plots for future homes of variety of greenery.

David proceeds with a further detailed recounting of neighborhood annals at this location, and informs us of all the snafus and snake pits encountered by the current andpre -Katrina residents attempting to rebuild their lives. They are similar to ones we would be hearing throughout the trip. For example, residents still abroad from the diaspora were being fined $500 for having their lawns unkempt and the local government threatens to seize these properties. Furthermore, a local good Samaritan who had been driving around cutting grasses probono was warned of various repercussions if he continued.

Once the history lesson and tales of woe are complete, David takes a few questions and then we head back to the garden and gear up to get dirty. Myself, Milli,Eyal, and Yoav volunteer to unload boxes of discarded Whole Foods products from Dandy (a dilapidated pick-up truck, which looks like it could very well have been sitting out front since before the storm itself). Then we were to separate them into several categories: chicken food, people food, dog food, trash, andcompostable goodies. This is done while tossing the compostable gems into a large metal wheelbarrow in which we get to dice away and spear, rather therapeutically, at the remains which we are using to make a new compost heap. The result was a giant fruit/flower/veggie salad which was usually pleasantly aromatic. Once,Eyal even managed to snag a perfectly ripened avocado, tomato, and cilantro leaf and enjoyed some jaw-mixed guacamole.

One of the other tasks was the endless cycle of shovelling compost from the matured pre-existing heaps onto a giant screen, and sifting it by hand picking out glass, trash, and large bits which hadn't fully decomposed to create usable topsoil. Other groups of people helped pot plants into the flower beds, divvy up the plots across the street, and play with Monkey to keep her entertained and mildly subdued.

After dumping mounds of chopped produce, my group takes a break and heads inside the doggy pen for some play time. Next, David asks for two of the 'less squeamish people,' and Eyal and I volunteer for this unknown task. We end up spending the next couple hours inside the chicken coop, scooping up chicken poop. And I thought cleaning kitty litter or bearded dragon droppings was kinda gross....I'll spare you the details. I did however get to hold and hug my first chickens. My last job of the day withEyal was uprooting cattails which had rampantly overgrown. Honestly, it was backbreakingly, hand-slicingly difficult and I would've rather been back in the chicken coop.

We vacate the grocery, repopulate the bus, and are given a firsthand account of what life was like growing up in the Ninth Ward by a third-generation resident, who was in the Spike Lee film with her mother and grandmother. Tanya Harris, the pleasantly boisterous tour guide, was an ex-ACORN member and now runs a new organization born from the ashes of a defunct local chapter. So not only was she able to provide details of life in the tight-knit community of the Lower Ninth, even driving us by her home and those of her family members, but she was also spouting knowledge of local politics, enumerating historical tidbits, and sharing anecdotes about interacting with Brad Pitt and his Make It Right foundation. We step out of the bus a number of times, including at one of the repaired levees near a bridge where residents were turned away at gunpoint in the days following the disaster. Another stop leaves us at the foot of one of the most colossal wooden decks I've ever seen. But when we reach the summit, the view is of a vast body of water known as BayouBienvenue which is riddled with gnarled tree stumps and a wall of dormant trees on the opposite shore. What catches my eye, and beckons me to sit on the bottom step closest to the water, is an overturned plastic deck chair protruding just out of reach of some rocks nearby. Tanya recounts memories of crab fishing in the waters with her grandfather and explains the causes of the unfavorable and potentiallyjeopardous state of the wetlands including over-salination and overgrowth and...I hear none of it.

I am wholly enveloped by this chair. The lake is brimming with blatant reminders of the vibrant life it once contained, but what affects me the most and absorbs all of my attention - is this chair. All I can hear in my head is a quote spoken in the documentary from the previous night where a woman mentions that New Orleans was once referred to as 'The city that care forgot.' Again, New Orleans was once referred to by its residents as The City That Care Forgot. I am inflamed. I am disconcerted. I am imagining myself removing my belt and fashioning an apparatus to retrieve this outstanding blemish on the lakes already scarred yet serene surface. I feel 'negatively reinforced' to take action against all of the injustices against all facets of this failed state - intangible, living, deceased, and inanimate. It will not be the first time on this trip where we are truly inspired and motivated to turn thought, intuition, and feelings into action. Our service induces learning. The knowledge is empowering. Empowerment can lead to future service, further action, leadership, and exponentially increased passion.

Later that night our programming includes discussions and reflection activities wonderfully led by Alon, Myla and Tovah. I find that these sentiments are experienced by many members in our party. We all engage in passionate dialogues and participate in a variety of exercises designed to improve active listening skills and speaking our minds.

A complaint often voiced by the local community is that organizations offering help, show up with an outsiders view of what they think would assist the community the most, without truly listening to their needs. Afterwards and throughout the week, we all constantly scheme ways to take action back home to positively impact our local community and continue to support Our School at Blair Grocery as well.

This is a post by Jamie Evan Cohen, a San Francisco student who was on a JFSJ service learning trip to New Orleans.

(This post is a continuation of the events which took place on Monday as listed in the post entitled Act 2.0)