I just wrote a rather pointless post about the weather... and realized that while I've been talking w some of you about last night (yesterday's) inauguration ceremony, I haven't commented on here.
I thought I would cry, but I managed to keep my cool. I will say that I have never felt more American - claimed that identity, been proud of it for all that it might symbolize now and in the future (so different from what it's meant to me, since being 18 years old when W. was first elected).
As I mentioned to Andrew in an email today, I felt that Obama's oath was something that I was a part of - that I experienced with him. I guess it was a prayer that I made for him and this new beginning for our country, but more than that, it was also a personal commitment - something that was somehow active and participatory for me.
Here in Mongolia, watching from my TV in the middle of the night... feeling ownership and belonging in that moment... so physically far away from all of you, yet covered in a feeling of being more connected, bound to a place, a people, a country than I ever thought possible. Feeling pride in nation for what it is today (not some lost time of the past).
Everyone has their comments. (I was thinking about the political commentary as ironically emulating the stock market's swelling, bubble - again, that human psychology of mass opinions - one opinion stated, followed by a hoard of the same opinion behind it). And, of course, much of the commentary I agree with.
But from a personal level, I think Obama's success will ultimately come from the feeling that came to me last night, echoed in millions of other Americans (who somehow do belong to each other in a massive, diverse, swarming family). That pull to action, inspiration to contribute - that feeling that came within me is how we're going to reclaim our country, heal, become united.
I talked with Zula about it tonight, and she was happy for me and tried to understand. I talked with Ena about it every day this week, and she nodded; said she too was happy for me and the American people... We read MLK's I Have a Dream speech in my class on Monday, and during all these exchanges, I understood that it was impossible to explain the two feelings that so many of us have:
a disbelief that W. is gone (and a hope to never hear his voice again, a hope to wipe him from consciousness)
and
a thankfulness that we are where we are. And that I can use the word "we".
Showing posts with label Zula. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zula. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
about this evening
what would you think if I told you about tonight?
Zula and I had a dinner date at my apartment; I came home, got busy working on class materials, reading a little more, and generally pretending that I'm retired ('busy' teaching, but not with much else).
It was about 6 when I realized that I didn't have any food in my apartment (somethings never change, no matter where you are); it was time to strike out for the State Department Store, which is about a kilometer from my post.
It was -40 tonight. That's an amazing temperature to experience. What was more amazing was that I decided to walk (rather than take a cab).
These were my two options:
1. Walk on the icy sidewalks for 20 minutes in temperatures sensational (and sometimes numbing too)
or
2. Catch a 'cab' (i.e. stick out my hand for any privately owned car driving along Peace Ave.) and sit in the stunning UB traffic for, perhaps, 30 minutes, maybe more. And pay 1000 tugriks ($.80).
The other notable part of the outing was when I entered the State Department Store. I was wearing my glasses (the frame of which had been 'burning' my skin from the cold), and in Denver and everywhere else I've every lived I've grown accustomed to 'measuring' the cold based on how quickly they fog up when I enter a building.
When I walked into the State Department Store, I realized that they've never, ever fogged up here: we're too close to the Gobi - they stay clear even when going from -40 to 60 degrees in 2 seconds.
Is that interesting? Maybe not. I have to amuse myself here.
On my walk home, I laughed it was so fascinatingly cold. How does it DO that? I wondered. maybe giggled.
***************
And, another thing you're missing out:
the cucumber and bacon pizza with cheesewhiz on top that I foolishly ate last night.
That was another spectacular thing.
Zula and I had a dinner date at my apartment; I came home, got busy working on class materials, reading a little more, and generally pretending that I'm retired ('busy' teaching, but not with much else).
It was about 6 when I realized that I didn't have any food in my apartment (somethings never change, no matter where you are); it was time to strike out for the State Department Store, which is about a kilometer from my post.
It was -40 tonight. That's an amazing temperature to experience. What was more amazing was that I decided to walk (rather than take a cab).
These were my two options:
1. Walk on the icy sidewalks for 20 minutes in temperatures sensational (and sometimes numbing too)
or
2. Catch a 'cab' (i.e. stick out my hand for any privately owned car driving along Peace Ave.) and sit in the stunning UB traffic for, perhaps, 30 minutes, maybe more. And pay 1000 tugriks ($.80).
The other notable part of the outing was when I entered the State Department Store. I was wearing my glasses (the frame of which had been 'burning' my skin from the cold), and in Denver and everywhere else I've every lived I've grown accustomed to 'measuring' the cold based on how quickly they fog up when I enter a building.
When I walked into the State Department Store, I realized that they've never, ever fogged up here: we're too close to the Gobi - they stay clear even when going from -40 to 60 degrees in 2 seconds.
Is that interesting? Maybe not. I have to amuse myself here.
On my walk home, I laughed it was so fascinatingly cold. How does it DO that? I wondered. maybe giggled.
***************
And, another thing you're missing out:
the cucumber and bacon pizza with cheesewhiz on top that I foolishly ate last night.
That was another spectacular thing.
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