In my lifetime, still choked up

I went to the "campo" today with my church-folk and saw a part of Bollullos that made the little pueblo look like New York City. It was pretty cool. Food, nice people, more food, scenic views of Bollullos, trees, grass (which is rare here), futbol, and a couple of photo opps for my old school Pentax. I had a couple of nostalgic moments, and ended up talking to a woman from Bolivia, who's here with her daughter, about politics in her country. Interestingly enough, we can bond over some of the same stuff from being far from home, to having revolutionary presidents. Although, I'm hoping that mine retains a way higher approval rating that Evo Morales.

Between talking and sacando fotos, another member of my evangelist church asked me if I wanted a piece of chocolate. I'm overly self-aware these days, and I wondered if there was a joke I was missing about skin color. As it turns out, he remembered that I liked the chocolate cake his wife made last time we had a church gathering and was offering me some more. I am down for the brown.

And I'm not the only one. As it turns out, my country is down for the brown as well. On Wednesday, November 5th I woke up at 7:30am. The election, as I later found out, had been called 2.5 hours earlier, at 11pm EST. I'd heard a lot of projections on Spanish TV and on the internet news but the suspense was still ridiculous, and I went to bed to avoid the anxiety of knowing if, when, and where Obama might be winning.

The first article I read when I turned on my computer, "Obama Wins Election" sent me into complete shock. It happened in my lifetime. I wish I could've been home to celebrate something bigger than a new year. It's been a while since a candidate I was actually rooting for has won the presidency. More than that, I guess part of me was afraid that after all the positive speculation, people would somehow vote the other way when they went to the polls. So it took a while for the dead silence I felt inside my being to subside and make its way into tears.

I walked in to my school on November 5th, and the first greeting I heard was "estas contenta?" I thought maybe someone had put a word out that I was unhappy with being in Bollullos... and then she said "con Obama?" I cheesed, I'm not even sure I got any words out. It's great that Spaniards were and are rooting for Obama, although something in me misses the kinship there. I appreciate that they're supportive though, seeing as he is the leader of the "free world" and all. It makes sense. When they ask me if I'm happy about the results, I know it's only partly because I'm American. The other part of me that's African-American is of course prouder, still in shock, still tearing up when I watch stuff like his acceptance speech. I think I'm going to bookmark it in Mozilla...

Miralo: President-Elect Barack Obama in Chicago:
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jll5baCAaQU&feature=related)

It's amazing. I dare anyone to call me negra again with anything but the utmost intentions. I'm walking a little taller now and still wearing my stunner shades in the streets so that when the "Bollulleros" stare they'll think I'm famous, and it'll eventually hit them that black people are insanely and ridiculously amazing. I already knew.