that while we breathe, we hope

I spent most of the night of November 4^th and the early morning of November 5^th snuggled in a deck chair wearing a party dress, eyes glued to CNN. Aside from it being the first time I’d really watched TV since I’d arrived in Africa, this was something big. We had started the “Yes We Can” celebration early, meeting at an American-run restaurant in Kigali for an all-night election party. Everyone there – Americans, Canadians, Europeans, expat Africans and Rwandans alike – were on edge; hopeful and hoping but not quite sure what the results would be. 8pm our time was a good 5 hours ahead of when the first polls were going to close, but we sat and we waited; we ate and we drank and we laughed and we endlessly discussed the issues – how much would his race matter? Would his inexperience count against him? Could the world tolerate Sarah Palin for the next four years? It was the race issue that had me concerned, to be honest. Every African I’d met was in awe that ‘one of their own’ had even made it this far… Could we even begin to hope he’d really make it?

Katie and I headed home around 1:30 in the morning, before any polls closed, due to extreme exhaustion (and a couple of beers…). A text message just after 6am woke me up; a friend from home saying “Wake up. He did it!” I have never welcomed an early morning wake-up call so happily. On about three and a half hours of sleep, I climbed out bed, got ready and headed for the bus park. Sitting on the bus bound for mu mujyi, everyone was quiet but there was a buzz in the air. Everyone knew, and everyone had hopes for what was to come. The driver flipped the radio on in time for the news. The words “Barack Obama” crackled out over the speaker amidst a stream of Kinyarwanda… and the entire bus erupted in cheers.

I’m so glad I was in Africa for this.

Katie (right), Laura (our American Lawyers Without Borders friend) and me at Heaven for the all-nighter.