Monday, April 19, 2010
Second night in a row without electricity. Second night in a row that a cockroach has crawled on me in the dark! The first time, I cried out so loudly me that my neighbor woke up and asked me was I okay. Tonight, thank God, I didn't scream this time. I remember the many cockroaches that used to scamper around Miss State, but somehow I don't remember having such a creepy feeling about them as I do now. Anyway...Yuk! I now know I hate roaches and I hate mice...two creatures that I see way too often these days.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Milk & Other Dairy Products
So you might guess that as hot as it is here in Côte d’Ivoire there are not many milk products. If you guessed that, you would be kind of right. Right in the sense that you will not see a fresh cold gallon of milk at the supermarket.* It is also difficult to find good, fresh cheeses** and cold cuts. When I first moved to Daloa (the city in which I live), I wanted to buy some cold-cuts for when I work out in the villages. I could not find cold-cuts anywhere but finally lucked up on a supermarket that sold sliced turkey. The next day when I got ready to eat the turkey, I realized it was spoiled! The point is that here, conservation of things that must be left cold is a challenge due to the heat. So getting back to that gallon of fresh cold milk – I have not had a glass of milk since I left the United States!
While milk is used, the most popular form of milk here is powdered milk. And while I don’t drink powdered milk straight, I do use it in my coffee and for making mashed potatoes.
Yogurt, on the other hand, is easier to find. While its consistency is very different from what we have in the States, they definitely have Yoplait yogurt available in the grocery stores in my city, in various flavors too. What I imagine, however, is that this yogurt is made with powdered milk. Anyway, it’s pretty good and I purchase it from time to time.
*However, in Abidjan, the capital city of the country, you can basically find any and everything. When I first got to CI, I had a good ham sandwich made with seemingly fresh cold cut meat that I’d found in a huge supermarket in Abidjan.
**I have seen imported French cheese such as camembert here in Daloa but one must wonder about the quality of the product especially since there are challenges with keeping items cool and fresh. For example, over the past few months, there have been numerous power outages. There is however a type of cheese that can be easily found here and it does not need to be refrigerated. I think it’s the same as the Laughing Cow brand of cheese that we find in the United States. I do not eat it, as I do not eat cheese of this sort in the US either.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Smoked Sheep
As with olives, I must thank France for getting me to love eating sheep or “mouton” in French. To explain the taste is difficult but in my opinion it is like eating roast beef with a distinct flavor added. The distinct flavor of sheep!
Here in Côte d’Ivoire, my preferred way of eating sheep is smoked. There is a culture here of grilling and smoking meats. Here in my city, there is a place that I go to that smokes sheep and beef daily. They also make beef sausages. They cut off about a hand’s cup worth or about $2.25 for the sheep and $1.25 for the beef (sheep is always more expensive than beef).
They cut the meat into tiny morsels and then put it in brown paper and add onions, peppers, spices, and maggi sauce (kind of like soy sauce). When you get home, take out a cold Coke from the fridge and prepare to eat your fingers off!
The beef sausages that they make are pretty good too. For those of you that know about sausages, the traditional way of making them is to grind the meat and then use the cord of the intestines to incase the meat. Here, they certainly use the traditional method. Now, I hate to admit it because typically I do not dare eat anything other than the “regular” parts of animals (no organs, no feet, etc.) but I do eat those beef sausages with intestine casings and all!
So for any of you who have never had the occasion to eat sheep, my suggestion to you is the next time that you have a BBQ, while you’re selecting your chicken, beef, and wieners at the grocery store, pick up a pack of lamb chops and put them on the grill. You won’t regret it!
Here in Côte d’Ivoire, my preferred way of eating sheep is smoked. There is a culture here of grilling and smoking meats. Here in my city, there is a place that I go to that smokes sheep and beef daily. They also make beef sausages. They cut off about a hand’s cup worth or about $2.25 for the sheep and $1.25 for the beef (sheep is always more expensive than beef).
They cut the meat into tiny morsels and then put it in brown paper and add onions, peppers, spices, and maggi sauce (kind of like soy sauce). When you get home, take out a cold Coke from the fridge and prepare to eat your fingers off!
The beef sausages that they make are pretty good too. For those of you that know about sausages, the traditional way of making them is to grind the meat and then use the cord of the intestines to incase the meat. Here, they certainly use the traditional method. Now, I hate to admit it because typically I do not dare eat anything other than the “regular” parts of animals (no organs, no feet, etc.) but I do eat those beef sausages with intestine casings and all!
So for any of you who have never had the occasion to eat sheep, my suggestion to you is the next time that you have a BBQ, while you’re selecting your chicken, beef, and wieners at the grocery store, pick up a pack of lamb chops and put them on the grill. You won’t regret it!
Igname = Indiam Yam
The day before yesterday, my landlord gave me two ignames. He said that although I have eaten ignames, I need to experience cooking them. He then said that I should take pictures of the ignames and share them with my friends and family in the United States. So while I am waiting for them to cook, I thought I would take the time to explain yams to you!
Ignames are a bit weird looking. They are a type of starch – I would say they are in the potato/yam family because when I looked up the English translation I found igname = Indian yam. (Even the name here sounds like “yam”). Their skin looks like tree bark. They are a pretty good size (see pic) but he told me that these are small in comparison to how big they can grow. He said that they can easily grow to the size of one’s thigh!
To prepare ignames, you start by skinning them (much as you would skin a potato). Once the skin is removed, you are left with the whitish starch part of the vegetable which has a slippery layer on top which reminds you of the “slime” from okra. You then cut the yams into chunks and place them in salted water. You let them boil for 30 minutes or so and after that …ta-dah! Lovely yams to eat! They taste much like boiled potatoes (but lighter and better) and go well with meat and sauce. For lunch, I will be eating ignames with a tomato-chicken-onion-garlic sauce I made. Tonight for dinner, I will have igname with smoked sheep! Oh my gosh. I will leave smoked sheep for another discussion but talk about good eating!!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
You Ask : What Are You Doing in Côte d'Ivoire?
After finishing my master’s program last year in public administration, I accepted an awesome opportunity to work in Côte d’Ivoire as an International Educator for Africa in the field of rural and educational development for one academic year. My post started in October 2009. The program is administered by an American foundation and is funded by the United States Agency for International Development (USAID).
Here is a summary of some of the activities I've already completed:
• Established 5 literacy centers in rural cocoa farming villages, hired and trained 10 literacy teachers, and managed their performance via monitoring and evaluation (i.e. classroom observations and tracking students’ test scores).
• Strengthened management and teaching practices of professors, staff, and students at Daloa Teacher Training College with workshops and trainings.
• Partnered with local and international organizations, such as the United Nations Côte d’Ivoire, to host community conferences on themes such as HIV/AIDS, human rights, and child labor.
• Organized a 3-day training for 100 primary school principals and a 3-day training for 160 student teachers and 79 in-service teachers on child-centered learning and current best practices in the areas of French, Math, and History/Geography.
• Planned reproductive health sessions for women in 10 rural communities and mobilized the female population to participate in income generating activities to increase their livelihoods.
Here is a summary of some of the activities I've already completed:
• Established 5 literacy centers in rural cocoa farming villages, hired and trained 10 literacy teachers, and managed their performance via monitoring and evaluation (i.e. classroom observations and tracking students’ test scores).
• Strengthened management and teaching practices of professors, staff, and students at Daloa Teacher Training College with workshops and trainings.
• Partnered with local and international organizations, such as the United Nations Côte d’Ivoire, to host community conferences on themes such as HIV/AIDS, human rights, and child labor.
• Organized a 3-day training for 100 primary school principals and a 3-day training for 160 student teachers and 79 in-service teachers on child-centered learning and current best practices in the areas of French, Math, and History/Geography.
• Planned reproductive health sessions for women in 10 rural communities and mobilized the female population to participate in income generating activities to increase their livelihoods.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
About Côte d’Ivoire (also known as The Ivory Coast)
Many of you ask….”where in the world is MC?” “What is it like there?” “Côte d’Ivoire, in what language is that?!” Well, this blog is my way of sharing with you this lovely country in which I am currently living.
Here is a little background about Côte d’Ivoire (also known as the Ivory Coast).
Continent: Africa
Location: West part of Africa. The countries of Liberia, Ghana, Burkina Faso, Guinea, and Mali border Côte d’Ivoire.
Meaning: Côte d’Ivoire literally means “coast of ivory” in French. This used to be the area where poachers hunted down and killed elephants for their precious tusks of ivory. After so many years of this activity, elephants here are a seriously endangered species.
Flag Colors: Orange, White, Green
Population: approximately 20 million in the country (to give you a reference, there are 18 million people in Florida and about 3 million in Mississippi- makes you realize how huge a country like the US is)
Languages: French (officially) but there are 60 other (native) languages! Everyone here speaks at least one other native language besides French.
Religions: about 35% Muslim, about 30% Christian, about 35% indigenous religions
Literacy rate: 51% (meaning about only half of the people in this country can read and write compared with the 99% literacy rate in the U.S)
Independence Day: The Ivory Coast gained independence from the French August 7, 1960 (the United States gained Independence from the English on July 4, 1776)
Weather: There are not seasons in terms of temperature really because it’s always hot! But there are seasons based on humidity and rainfall. Warm and Dry (November to March), Hot and Dry (March to May), and Hot and Wet (June to October)
What is one of the most interesting things about CI? I think one of the most interesting things is that there are approximately 64 different languages, in addition to French, spoken here. Ivorians often speak the official national language, French, and at least one or two of the 60 languages. Another interesting aspect of Côte d’Ivoire is that there is about the same ratio of Muslims as there are Christians which creates a certain religious harmony and respect that is sometimes atypical in the United States. For example, in my neighborhood, there is a mosque and a church practically side by side. So, depending on the time of day, I will hear chants from the imam or the hymns from the evangelists.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Electricity or Water: Which would you choose?
It’s not like we really have a choice these days in Côte d’Ivoire.
Typically, once or twice a week, I am at home getting ready to
Prepare dinner or take a shower when I realize that the water has been cut off.
I can only guess that they do this in order to ration the resources. But everyone is used to it. People buy buckets and pails in order to keep a backup supply of water available for when this occurs. However, this week has been more challenging than usual because as of
Feb 1, Côte d’Ivoire has had a shortage of electricity thus every day since then, the electricity has been cut off at least 8 hours each day. Last night, they cut it off at 7pm and it only came back on at 9:30 this morning. Can you imagine spending a night sleeping in the heat and then waking up in the morning to take a cool shower only to find out that there is no water? Now I know some of you who lived through Hurricane Katrina can relate. But for those of you who do not know, it is a very humbling experience. I have had all sorts of thoughts sitting in the dark. When you must use candlelight in order to see your own hands in front of you or in order to cook or take a shower, you start wondering why people think it is romantic to be in the dark when they do not have to (i.e. candlelight dinners). LOL I mean, I know…it is romantic but really, it is less romantic when being in the dark is a way of life…trust me. But then again, as the humans that we are, we long for what we do not have…even darkness when we have light and vice versa!
To return to my point, not having electricity and water from time to time here in Côte d’Ivoire has indeed been surprisingly humbling. Yes, it is annoying when you have to cook all of the meat in the freezer before it spoils because the fridge is not working. Yes, it is annoying that the water is not running when you want to wash your hair. But honestly, the lessons that I think I have been taught - how to do without, how to respect silence and meditation, and how to look up at the stars every now and again- even if it has been just for a little while, have been invaluable.
Typically, once or twice a week, I am at home getting ready to
Prepare dinner or take a shower when I realize that the water has been cut off.
I can only guess that they do this in order to ration the resources. But everyone is used to it. People buy buckets and pails in order to keep a backup supply of water available for when this occurs. However, this week has been more challenging than usual because as of
Feb 1, Côte d’Ivoire has had a shortage of electricity thus every day since then, the electricity has been cut off at least 8 hours each day. Last night, they cut it off at 7pm and it only came back on at 9:30 this morning. Can you imagine spending a night sleeping in the heat and then waking up in the morning to take a cool shower only to find out that there is no water? Now I know some of you who lived through Hurricane Katrina can relate. But for those of you who do not know, it is a very humbling experience. I have had all sorts of thoughts sitting in the dark. When you must use candlelight in order to see your own hands in front of you or in order to cook or take a shower, you start wondering why people think it is romantic to be in the dark when they do not have to (i.e. candlelight dinners). LOL I mean, I know…it is romantic but really, it is less romantic when being in the dark is a way of life…trust me. But then again, as the humans that we are, we long for what we do not have…even darkness when we have light and vice versa!
To return to my point, not having electricity and water from time to time here in Côte d’Ivoire has indeed been surprisingly humbling. Yes, it is annoying when you have to cook all of the meat in the freezer before it spoils because the fridge is not working. Yes, it is annoying that the water is not running when you want to wash your hair. But honestly, the lessons that I think I have been taught - how to do without, how to respect silence and meditation, and how to look up at the stars every now and again- even if it has been just for a little while, have been invaluable.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
My Skin in Côte d’Ivoire
One of the amazing things about Côte d’Ivoire is how much my skin agrees with the climate. For example, in the United States, I apply lotion to my hands daily an average of at 3-5 times a day. Here in Côte d’Ivoire, most days I do not even use lotion! And those of you that really know about my hands, they are the driest part of my body. It’s really amazing. I do not find the climate much more humid than Tampa for example but obviously there’s something here in the environment that is kinder to my skin in comparison with the U.S. As far as my face, it tends to be dry…or at least it was during my former life in the United States. Here, I do not even miss it if I do not use moisturizer on my face. In fact, I have to consciously remember to use moisturizer from time to time and to tone my face. Yet regardless of how kind the weather is to my skin, my wash-tone-moisturize routine is still important!
Beauty Shop
A week or so ago, I accompanied a friend to the hair salon here in Côte d’Ivoire. Talk about an interesting experience. Surprisingly, the beauty shop was much like an African-American salon you’d find in the United States. Take a look at the pic. What the most astonishing thing though was the price of a hairstyle or “coiffure” in French. My friend got a perm and up-do for $6 USD! Can you believe that? That means that if I had come here with relaxed hair, for that price, I certainly could have gone to the salon at least once or even twice a week!
Actually, I thought that here in Côte d’Ivoire, natural hair (or unprocessed hair) would be a lot more common than it is in the United States. Once again, I was surprised to learn that African women use weaves, perms, and other hair alterations as much or more than we do in the USA! In fact, school aged girls from ages 9-16 typically have natural hair as they have their hair cut really short for school but grown women most often than not have weaves or wigs. Thus, my natural hair is sometimes perceived here as it is sometimes perceived in the U.S., a bit backwards or not in vogue. I find that really interesting. So, if you think that going natural is African, you’re wrong (at least in Côte d’Ivoire). The natural Black hair trend is an American trend!
Alloco: Côte d’Ivoire’s Sweet "French Fry"
So I just left work for our 3 hour lunch break. Since I didn’t take my meat out of the freezer to defreeze earlier, I will not be eating a wholesome, fulfilling meal soon. Thus, in the interim, I will have a snack and I thought I’d share it with you. Well kind of. It’s called alloco. Alloco is a dish of fried bananas but they’re not the kind of bananas that you and I are used to in the United States. These bananas are actually sweet plantains. People here eat alloco like we eat French fries. You can have it as a snack, as an appetizer, or even as a meal but normally people have it in between meals as a snack. You know, Cote d’Ivoire doesn’t have a fast food culture like ours so there’s no going to anyone’s drive thru and ordering alloco! Sure, you can find it any one of their “maquis” (small restaurants) but I never order it. I prefer to prepare it myself. I buy the bananas and make alloco at home. You can buy around 10 -12 bananas for about 50 cents.
Alloco is really tasty. This is how you prepare it:
1) You wash the bananas while they’re still in the skin. Normally, two big bananas is one good, large serving for one person.
2) You peel them and then cut them into mouth-size bites.
3) You deep fry them in oil (palm oil is most often used here) until they are golden brown.
4) Voila! A nice sweet snack that will fill you up! Some people eat it with bread but as for me, I never do as I am not a big starch fan and eating bananas with bread is like eating two starches together. A no-no for this veggie/meat-o-vore!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The Biggest Bug Ever
You know, I really do not like stereotypes. But if I can ever say that I saw a bug that looked like he was from the jungles of Africa...I saw him tonight! I was sitting at my table typing and all of a sudden I saw something out of the corner of my eye (What would we do without peripheral vision?). Let me just say that since I've seen so many insects and creatures (I killed a mouse last night) that I suffer from mild paranoia. Thus, I often think I see things or I expect to see things that are not there. {That's what we call fear people...it's okay, completely normal}.
Anyway, I looked over to what my peripheral vision sensed and low and behold the biggest bug I have ever seen in my life! When I saw it, I was alone but I said aloud, "Lord, what kind of bug is that!?" As I spoke, all I could do was stand up on the table and gawk at it while doing the I'm-scared-of-this-ugly-bug-dance.
The pictures will not do it justice but nevertheless, see for yourself.
Anyway, I looked over to what my peripheral vision sensed and low and behold the biggest bug I have ever seen in my life! When I saw it, I was alone but I said aloud, "Lord, what kind of bug is that!?" As I spoke, all I could do was stand up on the table and gawk at it while doing the I'm-scared-of-this-ugly-bug-dance.
The pictures will not do it justice but nevertheless, see for yourself.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Washing Clothes in CI | Old School Style!
This is how I wash my clothes. Yes to clothes lines! Feels good to be environmentally friendly! :)
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
My Home in Côte d'Ivoire
I live in a studio apartment not far from the teachers’ college where my office is located. I have a neighbor to the left and right of me. They all are very nice. However, the neighbors to the right of me serve as my unofficial wake-up call service as they often start blasting Ivoirian beats as early as 6:30 am! And if it’s not the music that wakes me up, it’s the two boys (ages 2 and 4) romping around with their neighborhood friends that gets me out of my stupor.
I pay $60 USD a month to live here. Isn’t that out of this world? And no, that’s not the price after some government subsidy – it’s just that housing is cheap in my city (which is the 3rd largest in the country). If I were living, for example, in Abidjan, the capital however, my studio apartment would cost a lot more.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Outside Kitchens
Most kitchens here are outside of the home. These days, many homes have inside kitchens but I think because of tradition, most women decide to keep their main cooking spot outdoors. Although they do not use electric stoves outdoors, they often have several cooking units- which act like small grills (used both with and without the grill piece) which are run by using charcoal and wood. (See in picture).
Here, most dishes consist of a sauce (with meat) and a starch such as rice or foutou, which is a side dish of plantains beaten into a uniform ball. I have to admit that foutou is going to be one of those Ivoirian novelties that I am sure to miss once I depart!
The method for making most sauces here involves crushing (to crush = écraser in French). Essentially, it’s like there is some unspoken rule that vegetables should not be visible within sauces. So, what do women here do? They crush their vegetables using a stone or a hand-held crusher (there must be a better word…) before adding the veggies to the sauce. Shown here is a photo of me crushing tomatoes using the kitchen utensils most often used to crush vegetables.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Hot Water, What’s That?
Have you ever imagined how not having hot water would change your life? Well, here in Côte d’Ivoire, it is a luxury whenever I get to have hot water. It is also a rarity. (Heck, there is a scarcity of water, hot or cold, in this country!) When I first arrived, I missed hot showers and could not understand how people could possibly wash dishes without hot water. Then…you get used to it! You do everything with cold water. Besides, it is so blazing hot here that the notion of a hot shower would rarely cross one’s mind. I do not miss hot water anymore and I honestly wonder if I’ll ever use hot water as much as I did before coming to Africa once I return to the States.
Nevertheless…haphazardly, about two weeks ago, I found out how to have a hot shower (or hot water) if I so wanted it without heating buckets o’ buckets of water on the stove. By mistake, I had left a 5 liter container of water on my terrace instead of putting it in my bedroom as usual. Since there was no running water that day (which is the case on most days), I took the bottle of water and used it for my shower. It was so warm! The sun had heated the bottle and thus the water inside. Wow, it was unexpected and refreshing. Then I started thinking, why in the world had I not thought of this before!? Solar heating has long been known to be one of the most environmentally friendly (and free!) resources for heat. I have not tried the hot shower again but I now know when I need a hot shower, I only need to step out on my terrace to find the best source of heat!
Friday, December 11, 2009
You Don't Miss the Water 'Til...
the well runs dry. Well Folks, today, the well didn't run dry; the tap did. It happens that here in Cote d'Ivoire you will sometimes experience a lapse in water service that can last any where from a few hours to several days. Well, this morning I woke up to do the daily ritual and learned as I prepared to take my usual cold morning shower that there was no water to be had.
"Well by golly", you say, "that sucks!". Well, it doesn't. You wanna know why? Cause I have a back-up source - a have a well! That's right. Right here in my apartment complex, we have a good ol' old fashioned well.
Unlike our neighbors who must think ahead and conserve water in buckets long before the lines of H2o are cut, we simply go to the well when our taps run dry. Lucky scoundrels, yes we are.
To Get Rid of Lizards...
Well, I did not imagine that this would be my Ivorian introductory blog post but...hey, one never knows. Living on and off in Tampa,FL since 2003 has allowed me to become very accustomed to seeing lizards each day most while they are roaming freely outside. Despite lizard life in Tampa, nothing had yet prepared me for the considerably larger-sized lizards which call Cote d'Ivoire home. At my cozy little apartment, they lurk during the day and night and I have begun to see them as "snakes with legs". Amazing. I never had a big problem with them in Tampa but now that I have to encounter them day in and day out both inside and outside my home - I have developed a fear, so much so that last night, I had a horrible nightmare about one of them in my bed! Around 3am this morning, I hurriedly hit the light switch and almost tumbled out of bed trying to reach my glasses and have a good look under the sheets all at the same time. It took me forever to get back to sleep. Well, I can laugh now. Sort of.
Today after work, I knew I needed a plan. No more nightmares for me! I used the internet to search high and low on the following topic, "How to Get Rid of Lizards". To my surprise, there was a plethora of articles on just that subject! This one is my favorite; gotta love the author's humor. After reading this article, I felt less of a wimp - By golly, there are others too that suffer from lizard trauma. Whew! Times like these, I love feeling the sense of belonging. For you others lizard loathers out there, know that my thoughts are with you :)
Sunday, November 9, 2008
My Election Story
I am little sad that I chose to write this entry 4 whole days after the most historic election in the history of this country but at least I remembered to blog about this topic!
If you've read any of the previous blogs of Oct & Nov which go into details about voter registration nightmares, you will instantly understand the beauty of my election night. If not, let me just give you the basics. I attempted to register to vote in Florida (previously registered in another state) specifically for this year's high profiled elections. I got my application in on the very last day required by the State of Florida. Approximately, two weeks later, I was notified that my application was incomplete. It was not. I called them to fix that. They promised to do so...to give them a day to get me registered. I followed up. Got a complete imbecile on the phone. She told me my registration rights would not go into effect for 2008's elections because I got my application in too late. Another lie. I refuted this and in the meantime tried to attempt every watchdog group and voter protection associations known from the NAACP to Barack Obama's Camp. Much to my dismay, I must add, I did not really get anywhere with any of the sources that I reached out to. Anyway, I argued with the Supervisor's Office of Elections for some days, finally was "granted" the "privilege" to vote and promised an absentee ballot. It never came.
Fast forward to Election Night, November 4th 2008. Even though the entire city is getting riled up for the night, I am at work anticipating the night's results but at the same time suffering negative feelings due to my voting scandal. I felt like my right to have my political voice heard had been stolen and there was currently nothing I could do. Or was there? I went to BO's website to see if there were still volunteering opportunities available. To my surprise, there were. I then thought if this would even be a reasonable thing to do considering that I had loads of homework to do (and might I add, 4 days later, it is still undone). I spoke with my mentor for a moment about some work things and briefly mentioned my conflict between deciding to do homework or get involved with the campaign last minute. Besides, what much could I do? Then again, at the same time I was thinking, "what have I done?" Answer: Nothing. She responded, "We all have our priorities and we must weigh them. I mean, this is an historic event." Clearly she was implying that I have homework everyday but an historic election happens once in a lifetime! Well, that gave me the boost that I needed to go sign up for a couple of hours. I registered online at the GC before heading out the door to find the volunteer call center location. Oddly enough, it was located at Jay-Z's 40/40 Club (according to the website, many of the calling stations were located at clubs...strategic? probably. smart? yes, if the goal was to draw young masses to familiar joints). Even funnier, upon my arrival at 40/40, I saw that it was located very close to my school yet I'd never known it was there. (My best guy friend, uncle, and I were there as NYC tourist patrons in 2004.) I walked through the door and clearly there was a group who were there as clients and a separate casually dressed group there for calling duty. I went in and I'd never really seen anything like it. There were about 70 people hunched over papers with cellphones in hand calling voters across America. When I walked into the volunteer room, a woman greeted me two lists for voters in Iowa (or Idaho, I forget) and a quick run-down on how the calling worked. I thanked her and nestled myself into a cozy corner on a couch with other volunteers. One of them, a young man, said hello assertively and somewhat seriously after I'd been sitting for 3 minutes. Almost made me feel bad that I didn't initiate the hello. It was a bit weird at first but after a few phone calls, I got the hang of it. I was primarily leaving voice messages or getting people who had already been to the polls so as I didn't really feel like I was making a difference per se, it still felt good to be making collective calls with a room full of people who were supporting Obama in their altruistic efforts. After we'd been there for about an hour, we were told that the "party" was moving to another location where we'd continue making calls that would also serve as the venue for the after party. When I heard this I was thinking that this is not what I'd anticipated. I had simply wanted to come in, do my 2 hours of calling in one location and get back home so that I could get to bed at a decent hour and certainly before my curfew. I guess I didn't feel strongly enough about that and rationalized that an extra hour of calling was on my duty list anyways. A woman and man who didn't appear to be together approached me to ask if I wanted to split a cab (in my mind I'm thinking that volunteering is not supposed to cost, can't take the train and use my handy dandy prepaid subway card!?). That thought also lasted half a minute as I followed the two to the curb between 5th & Broadway off 23rd to find a taxi. In no time, the male was in the front discussing the election scene in New York with the cabber while the woman and I went through the traditional i-don't-know-you introductions. While she talked to me about her education and career, I heard the taxi driver stating that in all of his time as a cabi in New York, he has never seen so many young people out for Election Day with such excitement and fervor. We arrived on the West Side of NYC shortly and the man who had been sharing conversations with the cabber paid for us which was such a nice gesture. I reached my hand out to give him my crumpled $3 after he said he'd paid and he kindly turned it away saying that "paying for the cab is the least I can do". The address was precisely 22nd between 10& 11th which I was thinking, "Great" because home is not so far away after all of this is over. I went inside of the Mansion and its name lived up to its immense side and gorgeous Victorian decorations. There was quadruple the number of volunteers at this location and gaging from the empty cans and crusty donuts lying around tables with soiled napkins, they'd been there for quite some time. I walked in, forever splitting from my taxi comrades, and found a space for one on a lush burgundy couch next to two young colored girls, only after getting my new call lists for Colorado. We said hi and introduced ourselves and the calling began again. Perhaps after 3o minutes, we were told that the calling would cease and to finish the calls. They took the sheets and we waited for whatever was next. Well more calling was in store because apparently, they'd received word from "headquarters" to give some calls out to Nevada who on East Coast time, still had some time left for voting. These last minute calls seemed frivolous but we thought, "what the heck! it's the least and last that we can do."
Sometime after 9pm, the club began to display the election's preliminary progress on its huge 3 jumbotrons. The energy and the passion behind the crown led me to stay rooted in my seat while watching the TVs and sipping my red wine served by the rude bar staff and eating free hors d'oeurves. We all watched intently as red states turned blue (namely FL, VA, PA, & OH) and other states declared their prospective winners. The environment was intense but one that was pregnant with joy and anticipation. I decided around 11pm that there was no way that I was going to allow my precious nuns from stealing this beautiful night of political participation from me. Heck, I had no idea of where I'd stay but I knew it would not be at my "home". Music began to play between important announcements and the night soon developed into an interesting melange of grand party meets politics. When it was clear where the election was headed, favoring the O/B ticket, there was such a sense of victory in the entire room that I could feel it reverberating all around me. All songs played, namely by Love Generation of Bob Sinclair and Celebration by Kool & the Gang, were hot and really got the room pumped up. I felt what those in the Love, Peace, & Hippie Happiness era of the race-unifying 70s must have experienced. I mean I felt such liberation that I cannot really articulate it but it felt so good. Rejoicing, hugging, dancing, and smiling with complete strangers in the American city of New York where people normally try to guard any personal space even in highly unrealistic situations such as during claustrophobic MTA public transports. The music stopped and the whole room was attentive as McCain gave, in my opinion, his first eloquent and sincere-sounding speech. I had the sense that, like myself, those in the Democrat-filled room were proud of McCain in that moment and respected him more than they had at any other period in the election. When President Elect, Barack Obama, approached the stage to give his speech all 800 something eyeballs were fixed on the screen as if to absorb every word and movement of the Illinois senator. I was standing in the central most elevated platform in the club with a perfect center point view of the screen and I literally felt as if I were standing atop of the Moon. Not only was my physical elevation attributing to my inner triumph but all of the history that I knew of African Americans flashed my thoughts while looking into Obama's eyes while he gave his victory speech with a solidity & authority that only a legendary figure could give. Emotionally, I was moved much more than I'd ever expected while holding hands with one of the several strangers I'd met that night. She was Kenyan-American who had been texting her family back in Kenya who had stayed awake until 5am to hear the results of the American election. Amazing. That's the idea that I wished more Americans understood. The world was watching that night, and yes, it matters. In fact, they'd been watching the entire election and will continue to do so throughout Obama's presidency. It's important. With the US as a strong global participant in all affairs, it is provincial to believe that US presidency could be all about Americans! I'd prefer to not take this blog in the direction of my views of American politics but you can imagine my ideas. The theme of this entry is to highlight how my volunteering efforts on the evening of November 4th took me to a place that I could never have imagined. Whereas I had intended to only make some phone calls over a 2 hour time frame and go home and sleep, I ended up not only contributing to a victorious election through my calling efforts but enjoyed the night immensely by sharing that victory with fellow Americans instead of sleeping in a stuffy dorm room with exchange students who understandably could not empathize with the evening's importance. I texted some of my pals who had previously offered me their homes as refuge for occasions when the nuns locked me out. The sweet girls all called or texted me back. I ended up going to Brooklyn for the night with the friend that I'd spent Halloween evening with. I took a cab over which cost $30. Steep but certainly better than what I would have paid for a hotel room. My friend was overly accommodating considering that it was I who'd committed her to staying awake a few extra hours to receive me in her humble abode. She fed me, gave me face wash, and prepared my comfy sleeping quarters. Due to our intense conversation about the discriminatory experience she'd had herself at the voting polls earlier that day, we woke up her husband. Need I say that it was 2:30am. Funny enough, he rolled out the bed with sleepy eyes but within 5 minutes was engaged in conversation with us as if it was a breezy Friday evening at happy hour. Happy times and that day, I viewed my relationship with this couple in a deeper more meaningful way. I could go on and on about this day (as I already have) but I'll stop here. My day was simply symbolic, historic, and beautiful. God Bless America (I say that with meaning for the first time that I can remember). *Miranda Moore, November 8, 2008
If you've read any of the previous blogs of Oct & Nov which go into details about voter registration nightmares, you will instantly understand the beauty of my election night. If not, let me just give you the basics. I attempted to register to vote in Florida (previously registered in another state) specifically for this year's high profiled elections. I got my application in on the very last day required by the State of Florida. Approximately, two weeks later, I was notified that my application was incomplete. It was not. I called them to fix that. They promised to do so...to give them a day to get me registered. I followed up. Got a complete imbecile on the phone. She told me my registration rights would not go into effect for 2008's elections because I got my application in too late. Another lie. I refuted this and in the meantime tried to attempt every watchdog group and voter protection associations known from the NAACP to Barack Obama's Camp. Much to my dismay, I must add, I did not really get anywhere with any of the sources that I reached out to. Anyway, I argued with the Supervisor's Office of Elections for some days, finally was "granted" the "privilege" to vote and promised an absentee ballot. It never came.
Fast forward to Election Night, November 4th 2008. Even though the entire city is getting riled up for the night, I am at work anticipating the night's results but at the same time suffering negative feelings due to my voting scandal. I felt like my right to have my political voice heard had been stolen and there was currently nothing I could do. Or was there? I went to BO's website to see if there were still volunteering opportunities available. To my surprise, there were. I then thought if this would even be a reasonable thing to do considering that I had loads of homework to do (and might I add, 4 days later, it is still undone). I spoke with my mentor for a moment about some work things and briefly mentioned my conflict between deciding to do homework or get involved with the campaign last minute. Besides, what much could I do? Then again, at the same time I was thinking, "what have I done?" Answer: Nothing. She responded, "We all have our priorities and we must weigh them. I mean, this is an historic event." Clearly she was implying that I have homework everyday but an historic election happens once in a lifetime! Well, that gave me the boost that I needed to go sign up for a couple of hours. I registered online at the GC before heading out the door to find the volunteer call center location. Oddly enough, it was located at Jay-Z's 40/40 Club (according to the website, many of the calling stations were located at clubs...strategic? probably. smart? yes, if the goal was to draw young masses to familiar joints). Even funnier, upon my arrival at 40/40, I saw that it was located very close to my school yet I'd never known it was there. (My best guy friend, uncle, and I were there as NYC tourist patrons in 2004.) I walked through the door and clearly there was a group who were there as clients and a separate casually dressed group there for calling duty. I went in and I'd never really seen anything like it. There were about 70 people hunched over papers with cellphones in hand calling voters across America. When I walked into the volunteer room, a woman greeted me two lists for voters in Iowa (or Idaho, I forget) and a quick run-down on how the calling worked. I thanked her and nestled myself into a cozy corner on a couch with other volunteers. One of them, a young man, said hello assertively and somewhat seriously after I'd been sitting for 3 minutes. Almost made me feel bad that I didn't initiate the hello. It was a bit weird at first but after a few phone calls, I got the hang of it. I was primarily leaving voice messages or getting people who had already been to the polls so as I didn't really feel like I was making a difference per se, it still felt good to be making collective calls with a room full of people who were supporting Obama in their altruistic efforts. After we'd been there for about an hour, we were told that the "party" was moving to another location where we'd continue making calls that would also serve as the venue for the after party. When I heard this I was thinking that this is not what I'd anticipated. I had simply wanted to come in, do my 2 hours of calling in one location and get back home so that I could get to bed at a decent hour and certainly before my curfew. I guess I didn't feel strongly enough about that and rationalized that an extra hour of calling was on my duty list anyways. A woman and man who didn't appear to be together approached me to ask if I wanted to split a cab (in my mind I'm thinking that volunteering is not supposed to cost, can't take the train and use my handy dandy prepaid subway card!?). That thought also lasted half a minute as I followed the two to the curb between 5th & Broadway off 23rd to find a taxi. In no time, the male was in the front discussing the election scene in New York with the cabber while the woman and I went through the traditional i-don't-know-you introductions. While she talked to me about her education and career, I heard the taxi driver stating that in all of his time as a cabi in New York, he has never seen so many young people out for Election Day with such excitement and fervor. We arrived on the West Side of NYC shortly and the man who had been sharing conversations with the cabber paid for us which was such a nice gesture. I reached my hand out to give him my crumpled $3 after he said he'd paid and he kindly turned it away saying that "paying for the cab is the least I can do". The address was precisely 22nd between 10& 11th which I was thinking, "Great" because home is not so far away after all of this is over. I went inside of the Mansion and its name lived up to its immense side and gorgeous Victorian decorations. There was quadruple the number of volunteers at this location and gaging from the empty cans and crusty donuts lying around tables with soiled napkins, they'd been there for quite some time. I walked in, forever splitting from my taxi comrades, and found a space for one on a lush burgundy couch next to two young colored girls, only after getting my new call lists for Colorado. We said hi and introduced ourselves and the calling began again. Perhaps after 3o minutes, we were told that the calling would cease and to finish the calls. They took the sheets and we waited for whatever was next. Well more calling was in store because apparently, they'd received word from "headquarters" to give some calls out to Nevada who on East Coast time, still had some time left for voting. These last minute calls seemed frivolous but we thought, "what the heck! it's the least and last that we can do."
Sometime after 9pm, the club began to display the election's preliminary progress on its huge 3 jumbotrons. The energy and the passion behind the crown led me to stay rooted in my seat while watching the TVs and sipping my red wine served by the rude bar staff and eating free hors d'oeurves. We all watched intently as red states turned blue (namely FL, VA, PA, & OH) and other states declared their prospective winners. The environment was intense but one that was pregnant with joy and anticipation. I decided around 11pm that there was no way that I was going to allow my precious nuns from stealing this beautiful night of political participation from me. Heck, I had no idea of where I'd stay but I knew it would not be at my "home". Music began to play between important announcements and the night soon developed into an interesting melange of grand party meets politics. When it was clear where the election was headed, favoring the O/B ticket, there was such a sense of victory in the entire room that I could feel it reverberating all around me. All songs played, namely by Love Generation of Bob Sinclair and Celebration by Kool & the Gang, were hot and really got the room pumped up. I felt what those in the Love, Peace, & Hippie Happiness era of the race-unifying 70s must have experienced. I mean I felt such liberation that I cannot really articulate it but it felt so good. Rejoicing, hugging, dancing, and smiling with complete strangers in the American city of New York where people normally try to guard any personal space even in highly unrealistic situations such as during claustrophobic MTA public transports. The music stopped and the whole room was attentive as McCain gave, in my opinion, his first eloquent and sincere-sounding speech. I had the sense that, like myself, those in the Democrat-filled room were proud of McCain in that moment and respected him more than they had at any other period in the election. When President Elect, Barack Obama, approached the stage to give his speech all 800 something eyeballs were fixed on the screen as if to absorb every word and movement of the Illinois senator. I was standing in the central most elevated platform in the club with a perfect center point view of the screen and I literally felt as if I were standing atop of the Moon. Not only was my physical elevation attributing to my inner triumph but all of the history that I knew of African Americans flashed my thoughts while looking into Obama's eyes while he gave his victory speech with a solidity & authority that only a legendary figure could give. Emotionally, I was moved much more than I'd ever expected while holding hands with one of the several strangers I'd met that night. She was Kenyan-American who had been texting her family back in Kenya who had stayed awake until 5am to hear the results of the American election. Amazing. That's the idea that I wished more Americans understood. The world was watching that night, and yes, it matters. In fact, they'd been watching the entire election and will continue to do so throughout Obama's presidency. It's important. With the US as a strong global participant in all affairs, it is provincial to believe that US presidency could be all about Americans! I'd prefer to not take this blog in the direction of my views of American politics but you can imagine my ideas. The theme of this entry is to highlight how my volunteering efforts on the evening of November 4th took me to a place that I could never have imagined. Whereas I had intended to only make some phone calls over a 2 hour time frame and go home and sleep, I ended up not only contributing to a victorious election through my calling efforts but enjoyed the night immensely by sharing that victory with fellow Americans instead of sleeping in a stuffy dorm room with exchange students who understandably could not empathize with the evening's importance. I texted some of my pals who had previously offered me their homes as refuge for occasions when the nuns locked me out. The sweet girls all called or texted me back. I ended up going to Brooklyn for the night with the friend that I'd spent Halloween evening with. I took a cab over which cost $30. Steep but certainly better than what I would have paid for a hotel room. My friend was overly accommodating considering that it was I who'd committed her to staying awake a few extra hours to receive me in her humble abode. She fed me, gave me face wash, and prepared my comfy sleeping quarters. Due to our intense conversation about the discriminatory experience she'd had herself at the voting polls earlier that day, we woke up her husband. Need I say that it was 2:30am. Funny enough, he rolled out the bed with sleepy eyes but within 5 minutes was engaged in conversation with us as if it was a breezy Friday evening at happy hour. Happy times and that day, I viewed my relationship with this couple in a deeper more meaningful way. I could go on and on about this day (as I already have) but I'll stop here. My day was simply symbolic, historic, and beautiful. God Bless America (I say that with meaning for the first time that I can remember). *Miranda Moore, November 8, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Democracy * Update
As of November 3rd, ballot has still not been received. It appears, according to the Supervisor of Elections website, that my ballot has been sent to a NY address with a FL zip code. I called several democratic support hotlines and volunteers to get guidance on where to go next. I ended up speaking to the Office of Supervisor of Elections again (yet a different employee) and she told me that it was only mailed out Oct 31st!! However, she believed that it was sent to the proper address. Hmph! Now look @ all of this drama! I now have to try to leave work early so I can go home and check my mail and then speed over to the USPS to send this overnight for a good $20. In the end, if all of that happens, I will have to *hope* that my vote got counted! Wow....Democracy in America, where are you?
Interestingly enough, my political trials and tribulations have inevitably made me very participative in current politics. I have read about voting rights among other democratic "freedoms", becoming exceedingly interested in American law and politics, social justice, and the history of government. I must also highlight that my political victimization has made me realize how super it is that I am currently an MPA student, ironically studying the subjects that are related to the very politics and government that I am questioning as a citizen presently. I do not know where this experience will take me but it has bestowed a great deal towards my political education and has developed somewhat a fervor in me to serve the politically underserved somehow. Maybe that JD is in the works after all...or is it a PhD in social justice/social policy I doubt the latter as I have recently had the perception that a philosophical degree would not induce enough activity although it would involve much thinking and empirical contribution; I think I am a practitioner at heart, a doer for a cause, not simply a pensive researcher.
I close with this thought: my experience in the historical political process of the 2008 elections has forever changed my life....for the good. Through this I may now consider working as an advocate in the political arena, which I would have never considered before my public administration graduate studies and which I hardly thought of even after my academic program began. I am excited about my new future in politics. Will I now consider being a volunteer for future (perhaps even the current) elections? Yes. Will I now speak out with even more passion about voting and its importance to my family and friends? Definitely. Will I feel as though I have contributed to democracy even if I am denied my right to vote this year? You bet.
Even if this experience leads ONLY to my leisurely reading a book on US democracy, my person and its education toolbox is better for it. I am forever changed as a US citizen and happily so.
For further reading:
Marchette Gaylord Chute, The First Liberty: A History of the Right to Vote in America, 1619-1850 (New York: Dutton, 1969).
Linda K. Kerber, No Constitutional Right to be Ladies: Women and the Obligations of Citizenship (New York: Hill & Wang, 1998).
Alexander Keyssar, The Right to Vote: The Contested History of Democracy in the United States (New York: Basic Books, 2000).
Donald W. Rogers, ed., Voting and the Spirit of American Democracy (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1992).
Charles L. Zelden, Voting Rights on Trial (Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, 2002).
Interestingly enough, my political trials and tribulations have inevitably made me very participative in current politics. I have read about voting rights among other democratic "freedoms", becoming exceedingly interested in American law and politics, social justice, and the history of government. I must also highlight that my political victimization has made me realize how super it is that I am currently an MPA student, ironically studying the subjects that are related to the very politics and government that I am questioning as a citizen presently. I do not know where this experience will take me but it has bestowed a great deal towards my political education and has developed somewhat a fervor in me to serve the politically underserved somehow. Maybe that JD is in the works after all...or is it a PhD in social justice/social policy I doubt the latter as I have recently had the perception that a philosophical degree would not induce enough activity although it would involve much thinking and empirical contribution; I think I am a practitioner at heart, a doer for a cause, not simply a pensive researcher.
I close with this thought: my experience in the historical political process of the 2008 elections has forever changed my life....for the good. Through this I may now consider working as an advocate in the political arena, which I would have never considered before my public administration graduate studies and which I hardly thought of even after my academic program began. I am excited about my new future in politics. Will I now consider being a volunteer for future (perhaps even the current) elections? Yes. Will I now speak out with even more passion about voting and its importance to my family and friends? Definitely. Will I feel as though I have contributed to democracy even if I am denied my right to vote this year? You bet.
Even if this experience leads ONLY to my leisurely reading a book on US democracy, my person and its education toolbox is better for it. I am forever changed as a US citizen and happily so.
For further reading:
Marchette Gaylord Chute, The First Liberty: A History of the Right to Vote in America, 1619-1850 (New York: Dutton, 1969).
Linda K. Kerber, No Constitutional Right to be Ladies: Women and the Obligations of Citizenship (New York: Hill & Wang, 1998).
Alexander Keyssar, The Right to Vote: The Contested History of Democracy in the United States (New York: Basic Books, 2000).
Donald W. Rogers, ed., Voting and the Spirit of American Democracy (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1992).
Charles L. Zelden, Voting Rights on Trial (Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, 2002).
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