alas i am proud to be an american...

(saturday, july 11, 2009)

my alarm goes off at 5:15am, and i think about rolling out of bed, but the mating guard dogs woke me intermittently throughout the night, and i am TIRED. so, i turn my alarm off and go back to sleep, almost giving in to all the cynics who told me there was no way i would be able to get close enough to see obama.

my phone buzzes with a new message at 6:15am. it is matt. he says the magic words: traffic is non-existent!!! this is all the encouragement i need to hop out of bed, hurriedly eat my breakfast, and head into town to La General hospital where the president and first lady are expected anywhere between 9:30 and 10am. i arrive by 7am and to my surprise there really isn't much of a crowd. i comfortably find a place to sit directly across from the hospital. this is the closest the army of policemen will let us be, and i find a nice little spot of grass just above the open sewer/mote where i can alternate between sitting and standing. this turns out to be rather marvelous as the obamas didn't arrive until nearly noon.

as usual, i am the only obruni in a 50 meter radius (if you don't count a random foreign journalist here and there), and i am intrigued by the buzz and excitement of the ghanaian die-hards decked out in full body obama attire. i do have to say that saturday was the day that it finally hit me that barak obama is my president and i felt the incredible power he has throughout the world. yeah, yeah i was in argentina when he won the election, surrounded by excitement and several emotional, sobbing friends (you know who you are, jaja), but saturday as i sat amidst a sea of africans, waving a ghanaian flag myself, the sense of pride i felt about my country was a new and welcome sensation. i listened to bits of the conversations around me (most in twi, which unfortunately i am struggling to learn even the most basic of phrases). i didn't mind for the first time being white and sticking out in a crowd, because i was so proud to be an american and even prouder that the excited buzz around me was for once about my own country.

just a little background on why this day in accra, ghana was such a great american experience. my first time out of the countrywas january 1, 2002. my destination was paris, france. albeit i was young, naive and in a group of about 20 loud american college students, but i remember exactly how the street looked that second night when someone began taunting us, ranting about how great a man osama bin laden was and that "long live osama bin laden." i remember being shocked and saddened and completely taken off guard that someone would be so bitter about my country. hmmph, looking back i realize i had A LOT to learn.

my next experience abroad was the spring of my junior year, which i spent in buenos aires, argentina. i remember sitting next to my host-dad, agustin, in his study watching CNN in espanol on March 19, 2003 when President George W. Bush declared war on iraq. i didn't understand spanish very well, but the message was extremely clear. i remember that i felt so very far away from home. even more, i remember the experience of going to school the next morning at lenguas vivas. my classmates and i were all a bit disoriented. someone started to cry (for all i know it could have been me) when the topic of the freshly declared war came up. so our teacher told us to take a 15 minute break. we came back and each found a chocolate placed in the center of each of our desks and she gave us all big hugs reminding us that people know the difference between the actions of our government and us, but over the next 3 months i certainly met plenty of people who did not seem to really be capable of making that distinction or maybe i was the one incapable of accepting it.

i got used to telling people i was canadian or australian. i almost went as far as putting a canadian flag patch on my backpack. the truth was i was both ashamed to be american and afraid of the response i might get from the people around me if i were to admit it. i couldn't understand why we declared war on iraq and i was in no position to support it. watching my country go to war from afar was an uncomfortable experience. i saw more flags burned in the next 3 months than i have in my entire life, and i photo-documented the not so subtle anti-war sentiments throughout argentina.

when i returned to argentina in 2007, i felt a significant change in how the US was viewed. there seemed to be a clear separation between the government and the citizen (not sure if i was more mature or the world, maybe we both were). although George W certainly wasn't making us too many friends, i was not afraid of being physically harmed in any way for being american (not that this was ever an issue in 2003 either). i did, however, have to endure an ubiquitous amount of US bashing on the streets, in the classroom, and even in the homes of my own friends. sometimes i defended us, other times i was quiet, and occasionally i couldn't help but join in.

so these are just a few of my previous experiences that led to the sweetness of seeing Obama in ghana this past saturday. to be in africa when the first african-american president sets foot on the continent was a monumental day in history, and i was right there to experience it.

now back to my story...the president and first lady arrived sometime after 11:30 am, they stayed inside the hospital until after noon, before driving past the road where i had been sitting for the past 5 hours with thousands of others with the same goal in mind: to catch a glimpse of barak obama.

i videotaped him as he passed us in a heavily armored SUV. i saw him wave, but it all happened so fast that i wasn't able to get it on my camera. i was hardly disappointed. the morning, the company, and the woman who told me she loved barak obama because "he had brought the world closer together" made the wait so so worth it.

i went into the hospital to meet up with matt. he is going into his senior year studying engineerng, but matt is here on a mission/volunteer trip for the summer. he has been placed in the hospital, and he is getting a lot of great hands on experience to prepare for medical school. matt became my hero on saturday, not because he is a lot of fun or because he is a selfless volunteer, but rather because he got me an extra ticket to the "Send-off Jubilee" at the airport later in the day with President Barak Obama and President John Atta Mills.

**on a sidenote: La General hospital had discharged many of it's patients whether healed or not to prepare for the US president's visit. They also gravelled the front yard, painted the fences, and planted palm trees to improve the exterior. This is the same hospital that when i visited a few weeks back had up to 3 children sharing a bed and the surgical unit was set up behind a curtain in the hallway; hardly a model of sanitation. i wish the obama's could have seen the version of the hospital i saw 3 weeks ago and not the new and improved version, but i realize when the boss comes to town, appearances are important. i just wish it weren't that way.

Matt and i hop a tro-tro to get to the airport early for the 5:45pm event. the doors were to open at 2:30pm and everyone we talked to said to get there as early as possible. we were on track, but traffic was not in our favor nor was the driver who at one point pulled over the tro tro, turned around and tried to punch the woman next to me who was yelling at him in twi. when matt successfully pushed him back toward the front seat, he got out and tried to punch her through the window and through me...imagine yourself in a mini-van with 15 ghanaian women all yelling in various local languages at the male driver as he tries to punch one of his riders who just so happens to be seated next to you.

by the end of the yelling, they told us to get out. we really have no idea what exactly happened, but apparently the fight had SOMETHING to do with matt and i.

we met emma our british housemate and aspiring american politico at the airport. there seemed to be a lot of confusion on how to get to the event, but eventually we found ourselves at the front of one of several queues. whomever thought up the entrance was obviously on crack, because they opened a gate the size of a small doorway to let people in. when everyone from the back started pushing, i got shoved up against the fence. i started to cry. i think it was a combination of the excitement and embarrassment about the utter barbarity of people sometimes. anyhow, i caught the eye of a security guard on the other side of the fence and he had me off the fence and inside the gate before i knew it.

we entered the VIP section (still not exactly sure how matt pulled this one off) with all the PCVs (peace corps volunteers). the 3 of us lined ourselves strategically along the red carpet in hopes of shaking the president's hand. to our dismay, the red carpet was for the entrance of President Atta Mills not President Obama. We did see airforce one and met a great many interesting people as we waited. The President and First Lady came within 10 feet of us, but we didn't get to introduce ourselves or shake his hand unfortunately. We watched him speak, but could not hear as the mics were set up for the back of the crowd and for the media.

It was a lovely day in all. In fact, I think it was a life changing day even if I didn't shake the hand of the president.

Yesterday, Sunday - we went to Kokrobite Beach on the West side of Accra. It was fantastically beautiful with white sand and rolling waves. the beach was scattered with obrunis and enormous, handmade fishing boats. We stopped by the Academy for African Music to see a drumming and dance performance - finally I saw live african music in africa. I will post pictures and video soon, I promise!