Election Fervor

Dear dedicated reader,

I receive only small glimpses here of the election fervor that I hear is going on at home. These highlights come from 10 second spots on the Gujarati news which I occasionally see at the principal’s house, short articles in the English language newspaper that I infrequently get to read, or from the online version of The Economist.

Honestly, I prefer it this way: having made up my mind whom I will vote for, I’m uninterested in the particulars of who said what or the ups and downs of the various campaigns. All I can do is hope that the candidate I favor will make America see in them the things that I do. And, of course, send in my absentee ballot.

Being in India four years ago for the lead up to the last presidential election had a distinctly different feel. The politically charged atmosphere of India’s capital was a more fertile breeding ground for conversations with my Indian friends about American politics (or any politics, for that matter). The Democratic Convention was hotly debated over our cups of cold coffee – this year, I didn’t even know the Democratic Convention was going on until one night when we were sitting at the principal’s house watching the news with his family.

He turned to me. “Catharine, why is Obama so famous?” He asked me slowly.

As we watched a short clip of Obama on the screen, dubbed over in Gujarati, I tried to think.

“Well, he’s a different kind of candidate than we’ve had before. He’s the first African American candidate we’ve had for president.”

The principal nodded. “And what will he do about America in the world?”

“Hopefully make it better.” It was all I could think to say.

Recently, my grandfather sent me a copy of Obama’s book, The Audacity of Hope. Previously, I hadn’t really known much about his policy stances: I had just cobbled together what I thought he believed based on second hand hear-say and audio clips from Meet the Press. I read it hungrily, thinking of all the policy issues about which I care deeply and had simply left behind at home 3 months ago; however, the experience of reading it against the backdrop of my surroundings here was a strange one. He writes with so much faith in the American way of living, the ideals of American culture, and while I know that he grew up in Indonesia, his devotion to my motherland made me feel a little unpatriotic. Why am I here when there are so many problems in my own country?

And yet, that thought itself irks me. I’ve been accused of training my students for jobs in call centers: Is it true? Is helping students here realize their dreams to become air hostesses or electrical engineers (both jobs that require you to speak English) bad because India’s job market competes with that of the US? I ask to myself. Should my ambition to help be limited by the borders of my own country?

My reverie was interrupted as one of the computer teachers, Nitinbhai, caught my attention and pointed to my book. The only place with air conditioning in the school, I sometimes venture into the computer lab during the school day to read between classes.

He asked me, “Obama?”

I nodded.

He clicked his tongue in approval. “Barack Obama – my idol,” he struggled to get out in English.

Surprised, I asked him why.

He looked stymied for a minute as he thought of what he wanted to say. Dhirinbhai, one of the other computer teachers who speaks English quite fluently encouraged him to say what he wanted in Gujarati. After a short exchange, Dhirin relayed Nitin’s thoughts.

“He wants to say that he holds him up as an idol because he has struggled and overcome his struggles in the US and now he is running for President.”

Nitin chipped in. “He is a good man,” he said in Hindi.

It looks like Obama is leading the Kadod polls.

Best,
Cat