And the Winner is...America!

Yesterday, on the day of the U.S. national elections, the country of Cameroon, or more likely a minority of Cameroonians who benefit/profit from the current government, celebrated their president, Paul Biya, residing in power for now thirty years.  Thirty years.  Thirty years of unquestioned, dubious elections resulting in a continuously corrupt, painfully stifled, and suffering land.

Today, even knowing there was a chance that my picks weren’t going to win, I was giddy when I woke up, wanting to get to the internet early because I truly didn’t already know the results - this wasn't the Cameroonian presidential election.  Giddy, I tell ya - dancing around as if I were a middle-aged NPR enthusiast on the day she gets to see Ladysmith Black Mambazo live in concert (yes, me, previously, minus the middle-age part, add a fanny pack; with their sweet euphonious voices, and like with the miraculous weeping Marian statue of Medjugorje, tears were brought to these stoic eyes).  America, although nowhere near perfect, is controlled by its people and their votes – something many countries can’t claim.  I saw the reports -- although nail-bitingly close, a clear, undisputed win -- a hard fought triumph against some actual, worthy opposition.  And I felt a great sense of pride and fortune - not just because my candidate was victorious, but lucky to live in a place where its people constantly, often with great vigor and inanity and forgetting any afore-learned grammar or spelling, freely bicker over politics on Facebook, lucky to be able to participate in a real-life working democratic process, even being able to vote from far away lands - and vote for whomever I choose, simply lucky to be American.  Indeed, it's comforting to know that Americans can disagree, will continue to disagree, and that our offices will be perpetually governed by different ideologies - a swinging pendulum, all contributing to the good health of a great nation. (Of course, if we knew how to have real discussions, while speaking civilly/not be so sensitive, or how to work a bit better together...)

I had an early morning visitor.  It was my friend Prosper, a 19 year old trying to improve his English and with high hopes to make it to university.  He was all smiles and asked if I had heard the news.  I said I had and we simultaneously “Obama”d and he gave me a fist bump, a welcomed dap.  He said " Barack Hussein Obama."  That really happened.  He then asked me what a Mormon was. 

I know it’s not 2008, it’s 2012, but it really is pretty neat to be living in Africa and seeing the excitement here over our half-African president.  No matter what you think of our Commander-in-Chief, he is a symbol of hope and progress for a great many people in a place where those things have a serious dearth.  After living here, it is simply incredible to believe that a grandson of a Kenyan goat herder has now been elected twice to one of the greatest nations of all time.  Despite the fact that ole George W. did a fair amount for Africa, you don't see tons of boutiques, bars, cyber-cafes, barbershops, and anything else imaginable named after him.  Work in Cameroon is more than not discouraging, often making me consider packing up and getting the hell out of dodge, but that right there – having the knowledge that there are real viable possibilities for changing and bettering one’s quality or position in life, not just within the U.S. – gives me some greatly needed encouragement for sticking around.

(And just for the sake of helping release some of my giddiness, my day's mantra...Obama, gays, marijuana. Obama, gays, marijuana...)