When you are a music lover in Louisiana, it is a right of passage for a person to go to the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival at some point in their life. I went to my first Jazz Fest last year. Nothing is more memorable than taking the painfully long trek from the parking lot to the entrance of the festival grounds as the hot April sun smiled down on my shoulders. When I first walked through the main entrance, I was immediately bombarded with the sights, smells, and sounds of Louisiana culture. The aroma of Cajun-cooked jambalaya and gumbo danced into my nose and made me hungrier by the second. I stopped and listened to the marching band passing by. They played a traditional second-line tune that made everyone tap their feet along to the buoyant tune. I joined the stream of people walking on the dirt paths like ants in a colony, trying to navigate my way without getting lost. As I walked deeper into the festival grounds, I journeyed through a maze of booths with vendors selling everything from handcrafted jewelry to eye-catching paintings of the French Quarter.When I finally made it to one of the stages, I waited in excitement with the other festival-goers in the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of the act backstage. I could feel the crowd’s excitement and energy radiating into the atmosphere in waves as the musicians stepped onto the stage. The next hour was spent dancing to the lively and exhilarating music like there was no tomorrow. By the end of the day, I was extremely tired, but my day at Jazz Fest will be one I will never forget.