Gobama!

It feels strange to experience the culmination of a 2-year campaign marathon from the shores of the Indian Ocean. But, just as it was a clearly historic moment in the United States, my memories of November 5 will not soon be forgotten.

We gathered at Stephanie and David’s apartment for the long night before us. (We are now 9 hours ahead of Chicago.) After seeing the polls close on the East Coast, we took a quick nap and awoke at 4am to thunderous, torrential rains.

We flicked on Al Jazeera to see this: Obama projected to win Pennsylvania. It was clear from that point on that the junior senator from Illinois was well on his way to making history. But, without skipping a beat, just as the announcers declared Barack Obama the projected winner of the presidency, the power cut out. Stupid rain.

Wading through thigh-high waters (maybe knee-high for others), we sloshed through the sewage and trash, caught a bus, marveled at the water world around us, and then ran like mad to the US embassy where they were having an election viewing party for US citizens. We caught the last five minutes of Obama’s speech.

Since then, I’ve seen his speech in its entirety. I’ve seen McCain’s concession speech. I’ve heard journalists and pundits wax poetic about the immensity of this moment. And I’ve seen the montages of the colorful campaign trail.

Yet, I still don’t feel the weight of the news. Tanzanians are happy. I am happy. But I’m a long way from Chicago.

It’s been like watching the time trials but missing the Olympics. And now, it seems like I’ll miss the medals ceremony, too.