gobama

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November 6, 2008

Obama!

I cannot tell you how bizarre it is to watch American History unfold, my history unfold, from a place other than America. Not only was this election to hyped up and crucial, but it was the first presidential race in which I was eligible to vote. It had been killing me to read all of the bogus editorials and articles in Indian news papers about the election—the stupid things each campaign and their respective supporters were doing, the outrageous focus on Sarah Palin’s hairdo or clothing choice, or suceptability to prank phone calls, etc etc. India was eating all of that stuff up—Barack’s graying hair, Arnold’s work out tips for the president-elect, Palin’s hockey mom image, etc.

Anyway, I don’t even know how to address these recent political events in this blog that’s suppose to be about my time in India—but this November 4 (well, it happened the morning of November 5th in India) was a huge defining moment in my life. Nothing else was televised on news shows almost all day in India, proving that this election was m uch more than an domestic affair—our decision ripples outward and inward, and everyone in the world has an opinion. Not only am I abroad, but I am also working abroad with people from all over the world—India is like our little meeting place. It seems like this election was all that anyone from anywhere wanted to talk about when they found out that voting-age Americans were in their midst. Everyone from Spain, Italy, Germany, France and all over India knew the stats and the latest news on the race. Besides a huge economic crisis, Tom Cruise, Pamela Anderson and Disney World, people in India recognize Barack Obama as a huge icon of United States culture, and according to most of the news papers we’ve been reading here, Obama was India’s candidate, and the worlds.

But, to sidestep any partisan talk on this—the biggest deal about this election was watching it from my living room in India with all of my American friends. This was the moment we’d all been stressing out about for the past three months—there was something strange about not going to the polls and canvassing for our candidate, or getting involved because we are so removed from the heart of the affair. It was this election that was giving us defense of all the bad things that the rest of the world has (usually with legitimacy) to say about the United States. This election was the pivot point of the huge mess in policy and image that gave our nationality some kind of hopeful face. We’d been finding ourselves denying our country to save face, avoid conflict, or evade marriage proposals or obscene offers from gross teenage boys. We were either from Germany or Canada, or slightly embarrassed to admit our American-ness to European volunteers at service. When it got out thought, the first thing asked was “Barack Obama?”. Anyway, I keep on getting excited about this win—it means so much to my generation and to the progress of American culture, and politics, I can’t help but endorse the guy and be stoked about it. I might be breeding a reader community of less than Barack supporters—so bare with me.

It is just fascinating to experience all of this going down. And while the victory for the democratic party is huge for me, as a poor, 20-year-old college student concerned about my economic future as I am soon to enter the full-on adult world after graduation, and about the state of our poor planet Earth, among other things, the victory is huge for our history as a nation. We all know that, and everyone keeps saying it, even President Bush in his post-election speech and John McCain in his concession, but isn’t it truly amazing? What a hopeful and progressive world to be alive in—when all seems like a loss and humanity warrants nothing but cynical attitudes and outlooks, there we go amazing ourselves. It feels good to live in a world that isn’t as apathetic and anarchist, even, as sometimes the state of the world makes me feel. My generation is in the middle of a huge social movement, the likes of which great men like Roosevelt, King and Kennedy are known for. All eleven of us sitting in this room, like we were huddled around a little radio in a cave, hiding out until we knew whether or not it was safe to fly home in a month, couldn’t help but feel like the epitome of our age. We are in a historical age of change but also in our own personal ages of change. There is so much possibility in being 20 years old, in India, in College, entering the graduate school world, the job world, the adult world. What makes it better is that we are all going out in our ages of possibility to get some work done on humanity, with the help of a just-elected a head of state who has a vision and a drive the same as ours. Seeing all of the happs in Chicago on TV and listening to the great orator’s speech left us all in silent tears and with a yearning for returning to our various areas of America—in my case the glory of the Midwest—but at the same time we were filled with an immense pride, perhaps for the first time in our short lives, to be an American abroad.

This doesn't really make sense-- I feel like this excited little kid that can't form real sentences, let alone add up sentences to make a complete and understandable paragraph of thought. More on INDIA later... all of my IPSL friends are leaving by Monday and just the 4 kalamazoo students are left. It is making me really sad, devestated, really, but I'm trying to focus on my tasks at hand for the last month here.

Peace.

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