My friends. Sorry for the delay but here is the post I promised to submit to you. In advance I would like to apologize for my likely many mistakes as English is far from being my first language. Hopefully you will understand me and I know you will.
…This is an account of a trip, the climax of which being my shaking hand with a man. That is an experience I will remember for a long time to come.
I am in Copenhagen, it is Wednesday November 7th. Following my daily routine, I checked in the Obama blog and expressed my desire and genuine wish to have a chance to set my sight upon this Man that truly has impacted on me. Not knowing that He was planning a campaign event in San Francisco.
But allow me to begin by putting it into perspective, I was at first scheduled to travel on October 28th, unfortunately I could not secure a visa on time. Looking back it was a blessing as it appeared that Obama was coming to San Francisco two weeks after. In other words while I am there assuming I got the visa in the second attempt.
I was informed of that by Meta in the community blog. More, she generously proposed to purchase a ticket for me and put my name on the Guest list, ensuring thus I could attend without hassle. I was stunned by that sense of solidarity and connection. Again it is a vivid reflection of what we all are here for. The belief that a united entity can overcome any challenge, unity is the best platform for solutions finding. There is always someone ready to give hand, an advice, a support or an inspiration without pretentiousness, nor expectation, just motivated by an authentic will to make a difference for the good.
Here I am this late evening in Copenhagen figuring out the enormity of the moment for me. I am poised to be in the same space with my favourite leader, a man that I happened to discover like many an evening in Boston 3 years ago. A man for whom I have respect and admiration but most of all someone I feel I deeply understand as the lines of his destiny constitute, rather a mirror through which I can suspect some of the pain, the hope, the illumination and determination, only a meandering destiny can offer.
I am packing my stuff, making sure I have the print of the mail Meta send me with all the practical information relative to the venue in San Francisco as it is my gateway to the most thrilling experience I have to go through.
In fact I am coming to America primarily to attend some intensive courses in my preparation to becoming a high performing sales man in Europe. I am clearly excited by that prospect, but the passion I have for this coming meeting with Barrack outgoes anything else.
My passport and all relevant papers are put in place; I have already told my friends and colleagues that I am going to America, to San Francisco. But not only that I also told them I am going to see Barrack Obama and they know how much that meant to me. Unsurprisingly they were happy on my behalf and congratulated as they vehemently urged me to take as many pictures as possible to immortalize the encounter and capture that moment, which certainly will be jealously stored in my poetic memory.
The cold night in Copenhagen only added to my impatience as I was sure San Francisco will offer a little more clement weather and I could not see it otherwise when I remember the song “..When you are going to San Francisco…”
I imagine a city of liberty, dynamism and aesthetic. I imagine people in smiles, lights in procession redistributing to the infinite the thirst for beauty of a diverse and sophisticated crowd.
I had a short night, early in the morning I am woken up by the taxi driver who was supposed to pick me up and take me to the airport.
Here I am, on my way to the place he called the beacon of Liberty and Opportunities- America.
It was a long flight. I stopped to London for an hour and left the British capital around 1.30 pm GMT. We flew over the North Atlantic, flirting with South Greenland passing through the Labrador Sea and the immense Canadian air space. The view is outstanding as the majesty of the landscape made of ancient mountains that to this moment stand proud and beautiful, lakes and rivers giving to the nature its finesse, paraded under our eyes. The green reminds us that life is luxurious and well. Yet I was longing to land to San Francisco and breathe the air that Obama will be breathing in a matter of days. As I was plunged in those thoughts I could spot deep into the horizon something looking like a bridge, it was red and astonishingly similar to the one I have seen so many times in pictures, magazines, films and it was always the symbol of San Francisco -the Golden Gate Bridge. Man, I am closing in. I am in San Francisco.
3.15, local time I am outside of the International Airport after security procedures and all that. For the first time I am in an English speaking country and the biggest of all. I am in the country of Barack. I am in the country of Meta, of Sharon, of Shawnmarie, of Terri of my colleagues, of my friends, of my dreams. I am in America.
I made sure I did a good job while I was focused on my training and daily tasks at work, I had though, my heart and soul adamantly fixed on Wednesday November 14th.
I left the class earlier that day. Crossed Fashion Island Blvd in San Mateo and joined a colleague, Nicole who would drive me to San Francisco. Imagine her surprise when she learned about the purpose of my trip to the city of Jack Kerouac.
We printed out a plan and hit the road. While we were driving on the High way through the Silicon Valley with the rock and roll in the background I suddenly felt I finally was in America. The meeting with Barrack was no longer a construction of my imagination but a reality that was written in the book of my destiny. We exit the High way by Mission Street and drove along until we took a slight turn that I believed was towards Van Ness. Minutes later we turn right through Grove Street, I knew it was there. Number 99, Grove Street I could see on the lights the name of Barrack Obama.
I could hardly say thanks and bye to Nicole. I was simply too impatient to tell everybody around that I have arrived.
All were kind and gentle towards me, as people of all walks of life, colour, and social status stroll, exhibiting their signs of support to Barack, either in T-shirts, caps, pins or other items. It is needless to mention the dazzling smell of hope blowing gently in the air. I talked to any body that passed by, so excited as I was. And remarkably the same excitement was not only visible on others but almost palpable as the lines started to grow around the building. I was interviewed by two guys with their press equipment and to my surprise I ended up retelling the entire speech of Barack during the Democratic Convention in 2004.
3 years after he told the American people of his father who grew up herding goats, over there! -In the most Eastern point of Africa- Kenya, San Francisco was to be the meeting point for the son of that Easterner and the native of Senegal that I am- a Land situated in the most Western point of Africa. The Pacific Coast made itself the point of junction between the boy of the Atlantic, and the son of the Indian Ocean. That too, is another dimension of the man I am about to see.
Standing in the line as I was told by campaign officers I had the opportunity to engage in dialogue with people around me and guess what! We talked about him. They were curious about my story. It is not very common to witness such a passion for a political leader of another country. Let alone; make all these efforts that they assume I was making. I had to tell them why and this is what I said…
One knows what he feels.
I have looked at many men, listened to many orators, read many thoughts, from numerous countries, eras and intellectual tribunes.
Nothing has equalled the feeling of fulfilment Obama message and personality had on me. I looked at a man through his words, passion and, I didn’t see a political character as we have too many, on display wherever eyes can see. I looked at a man and I saw where I can be., I saw a dynamic, a sea of possibilities as if illustrating the song –he, like one drop ,triggers many drops, which someday will make a river...and the river is going straight down to the sea, while the sea goes on forever.
A man who dares challenge the logic of apathy by voicing in Springfield in that day you remember that there is a need to cultivate an awaken electorate. He knows that people who aim at making History have to reclaim their due: the power in them they ignore; the strength that lies beneath our skin that we for long have underestimated. He courageously admitted his ordinary nature, underlying that this is not about him, he is just a broker someone through whom we can see the horizon. We are the people; we are the power if we can believe in that. We have to push the movement forward if the path is right and let everybody know when we are deviating. That is what I called humility and grace. It is true, Obama will face a multitude of hurdles, and he will suffer setbacks, doubts and defeats in his improbable quest. It is not the Grail. But for us it has the same aura as that quest for the ultimate good. The good that is inclusive and lying buried in us, crushed and intimated in the trenches of our soul. We have for long given up on our capacity to turn the tide. Scared away by the daunting task of taking on those who know how to play the game and dedicated their energy and resources in maintaining the status quo. We have given way and ceased to believe that the answer is in us.
Some said it takes a village... but no! It takes an enlightened soul, a healed spirit to lift a Nation and inspire a world. Knowing that that soul and that spirit is in town is the reason why I am in San Francisco today, where the hilltops shed light on the frenetic life taking shape in the valleys; thousands miles away from home.
Now there is a fact: History has ceased to being local. In that case no one has the monopoly of wisdom or greatness. They can no longer be the claim of one entity, one society, or one nation. I am coming to San Francisco to humbly take my share as a citizen of the world. Globalized it is nowadays. I am here to be an active participant of the History of the World as it is taking place right in front of our eyes. Under the making of a man who better that anyone else is capable of carrying its burden and unveiling its ocean of opportunities. He may be ahead of his time as we still have long way to go before fulfilling the requirements of being an awaken electorate.
Here in San Francisco people looked ready and fired up first step towards being awaken.
The cars in the street are clearly struggling to pass by as the crowd grows ever larger and longer in the depth of this fresh and joyful evening in this Far West city. The Lady next to me told me of how she was sick and tired of business as usual in American Politics and underscored the need for new direction that another man backed up by sharing his thoughts about the similarities between our man and JFK,
I rebound on that to make the point of timing. The last Senator to becoming President came by at a crucial moment where a transition from a traditional approach to power and leadership was to be articulated, many were not ready and even sceptical of the likelihood to see such a project take shape. That man faced off the challenges of his time by offering a visionary leadership build on daring ideas of conquest and peace. The conquest of the Unknown and yet at our reach whenever we believe in the transcendental credentials of human spirit. He paved the way for America to land on the moon. This time around, our man wants us to rediscover the genius that will make us believe once more that we can do more than leaving our footprints on the moon. We can repair the world and reinstall mankind on a pedestal of grandeur. We need to believe that else, some other forces would take over as nature never allows vacuum. And for long the void left by disillusioned people has been filled by the cynics, special interests and other units trained in how to promote the agendas of their own.
I know that much of what I said might sound naive or irresponsible as the main rivals of our candidate like to define him the same way. Thus they are trying to cast doubts upon his electability.
O f course they would do just that, running short of compelling arguments to deny him the position of leader of our time.
He is vague they say, and lacks experience. In fact they have perceived the power of his message and its height compared to theirs. However I must confess his message is arguably too transcendental in spite of its apparent simplicity and for some its inherent banality. He knows that he would face accusations of being a hope monger.
That is why we, his people, have the historical responsibility to carry out the message to the heartland, break it down and make it transparent to the many who are calling for change. The change will start when we reveal the true dimension and measure of a people willing to stand up and realize that the way is as difficult as they make it.
He started a movement much the same way his model did more than hundred years ago from the same city of Springfield. Along the way people joined him in his march, then thousands more, finally millions took the road and marched, ultimately creating a spiral of changes that to this day impact the American society. This time around, we will be marching, speaking, rallying and sharing across races, religions and stations. We will be reaching out to neighbours, friends, colleagues and people passing by as this is our movement. There are no more Strangers when Obama speaks. My presence here a couple of feet from the entrance of the Civil Center bracing for an encounter with him is another testimony of that reality.
9.00 pm. Now I am entering the Venue and the diversity of the crowd provided comfort to the novice I obviously was in such an event. The waiting has been long and the legs started feeling the blood pressure due to a long queue.
I am excited and I cannot hide it..
I rushed to find a place right at the first row and already the singing was going on. A choir of black Gospel singers set the tone in chants that went right to your heart and glide melodiously through your spine and make you feel like singing along
I stood there, biting my lips trying to convince myself that this is indeed happening to me. I looked around and saw many young faces, many adult faces, many white, many Black, many Asian faces ... all Human Faces.
I told them of my trip and they responded all the same way, welcome to the movement as I introduced myself to Liam Chinn, a young charming man who has worked in the American Congress as an assistant to a Senator. He shared with me his concerns and hopes for Obama. The girl next to him was an Asian American who like many others grounded her support to our man on his charisma and willingness to propose a new way.
Why are all these people found of him and his message?
The answer is to me plain simple. It is not every day that we witness such a harmony between the message and the Messenger; by all standards.
That case is to be made by his supporters; Obama won’t be able to make it.
A woman on stage shared her enthusiasm for Obama with the crowd talking under way about her son deployed in Iraq. A young girl from a high school came on stage and underlines the spectrum of Obama supports and then the tension raised a level. I could see around me the different CD with their banners from San Mateo to Oakland, Berkeley to Concord, not to mention folks of San Francisco who were standing right next to me.
A moment later, Alice Walker was announced on the microphone as the one who would introduce Obama that night. Can you believe this?
In her orange outfits and hardly touching the floor of the stage because of her apparent lightness and grace she began talking about him and his transformative power and skills in this time of challenge. It was emotional to be there. I read the Colour Purple in the nineteen’s and here I am listening and looking at that woman whose sensitivity commands respect and admiration. My day was already good. But now it is getting to the summit. Alice Walker was giving us Barack Obama.
The man entered the stage from the left and run straight to Alice Walker....gave a hug and instantly started waving at the crowd with a warm hello to the folks at the balcony on the other site. I was stoned. I was looking at him moving as smoothly as when he for the first time stood in front of the crowd in Boston 3 years ago. Obama took the microphone, spoke to us and to the rest, we were vibrating along with him. He finished and went down to interact with the crowd. I managed to shake his hand after quite a struggle. I was so active that I might have pushed unwillingly a Lady who was standing next to me when Obama was nearing. He approached in a sea of hands and arms and banners, the smile always visible and genuine. When he came to me, he shook my hand and I could feel gentleness, grace and leadership aura. In the midst of that chaos he had the time to tell, “Make sure the Lady next to you is all right”. That tells a lot about this man.
As I stood there and the crowd started dispersing, I thought of all of you Obama folks. Those of you who helped me make the journey to the Civil Center and meet my man.
You know who you are. Words won’t be enough to express my gratitude. So I would not say a word. I would say just two: Thank you.
I took numerous pictures of the event. Not from a camera but from my heart and they will follow me the rest of my days.
However let’s face it. He may not prevail in this battle, he may not be the next President of the United States of America, but his message and his movement have to go on as they no longer belong to him.
I stood out on Grove Street that night grateful for being part of that movement knowing that it will live on.
My friends I like to believe that San Francisco was just a stop on the way to Washington and thank you for allowing me to share my journey to the city of father Junípero Serra with you. As I left in the middle of the night I realized that my journey indeed started 3 years ago, one night in Boston.
