Election Day in Kenya

I am truly proud to be an American. Catherine and I differed in this last election about who was the better candidate. I probably am the only one in the family that proved to be an Obama supporter. In an interesting paradox, while I found that I supported more of McCain’s philosophies, none proved to me as important as finding someone that restored and hope and dignity to the American people. As someone living abroad, this hope and dignity is something that people across the world look to America to provide. Although we may not want it, we truly are the role model for each and every country. This has been demonstrated to me time and again as I’ve interacted with individuals and they struggle to understand some of the things we’ve done.

While I am more than willing often times to defend actions or decisions, it becomes tiresome and an exercise in futility because the people have lost their faith in the beauty of the America that I know and love. As I have looked back on my country in the last year, it seems to me that Americans as well have lost some of that hope and faith in their country. So while defense and economic policies and arguments swayed many, to me they seemed as lesser issues than helping people find their hope and faith in their country again. In my opinion, there is no such thing as false hope. Some of this hope and faith will take time, but what I have seen in the last week has solidified my opinion that this ‘hope stimulus’ is what was needed far more than any economic stimulus or anything else.

As I was traveling through Kenya on what was the evening of the elections in the United States, my group stopped at a little roadside curio shop. On the side of this shop was a small little room that had been converted into a diner with several small tables and chairs and a TV hanging from the ceiling on one end. Since it was morning and we had been traveling for some time, we followed the sunlight into the room to find several locals sitting and enjoying their morning coffee and following the American elections on CNN. At that moment the screen changed from the commentator to a live shot of Obama in Chicago and a voice with a ticker came on stating that Obama had been declared the winner and was en route to give his acceptance speech. Immediately there was a cheer in this room and the energy and excitement became almost tangible. It was then that Obama began to speak and it seemed a magical hope and brotherhood filled the room.

As his remarks continued, I gazed at my fellow travelers and local patrons, black and white. Each and every one had a smile on their face, but many had tears in their eyes running down a darkened cheek. Each person was transfixed on the TV and I seemed to be part of some surreal play that had frozen time in order to send a solitary message to the observers of this drama. I gazed out the smudged window up the Kenyan mountains covered in the green trees and fauna that is so typical of Kenya. I watched the traffic racing down the bumpy road we had traversed, and all seemed to coincide in some symbolic way with what I was feeling. I found myself tingling with a pride and joy that I hadn’t felt for some time while watching the future of my country. I was choking back a tear as he expressed feelings for my country and brought in my heart a hope that had seemed to fade the last few years. My heart was nearly bursting by the time the remarks concluded and I found myself hungering for more.

As our President-elect concluded, I once more let my gaze travel across the other participants in this drama that we had been a part of. Each of us seemed to wake up from the dream we had been living and began to cheer and smile. Chants of ‘USA’ mingled with shouts of ‘Yes we can’ and ‘Obama’. Each one seemed to be a natural substitute for the other as there was a feeling that we were no longer foreigners, but indeed ‘fellow-citizens’ as Paul once said. Hugs and handshakes were freely exchanged for a moment each and every one of us was an American. Even more, each and every one of us was proud to be an American, and hopeful for our world and our children. It seemed as if we were drunk on some potent wine and were in a state of euphoric delirium. It felt as if it would go on forever.

As reality set back in, the overt joy diminished, but the tears on cheeks and the holding hands and bursting smiles indicated that the hope had merely transformed itself from outward expressions to inward passion. It was an observed transformation that I will never forget, both as an observer and participant.

While I have always been proud to be an American, I don’t know if I’ve ever been prouder and more hopeful. Not a false hope nor a blind one to the challenges and disagreements ahead (as Obama artfully indicated), but one in which I am confident will change many of us in ways we may not realize.

As we loaded back onto the bus, waving good-bye to our new Kenyan, Nigerian and other Western brothers and sisters, there seemed to be an invisible bond that time and distance will never diminish. We had shared something that will never be repeated, something that will link us through time and space. It’s a hope, a peace, and a faith that America had taken an unprecendented step that had once again demonstrated the uniqueness of love and hope that only one country in the world represents and must continue to represent. I am proud to be a citizen of that country.