God was in the building

Last Friday, Barack Obama held a "women's rally for the change we need" at the University of Miami. Despite being neither a woman nor an American voter, I managed to secure a ticket, by virtue of responding to am email quickly. Can you imagine 8000 tickets, even free ones, to go and hear any British politician speak being snapped up in a few hours by the student body at any UK institution? That's what happens here, and several people I know who were far more clearly within the target audience than me missed out.

So with their imprecations in mind, I refused to be daunted when I arrived at the venue, 15 minutes before the doors opened, to find a queue snaking along several roads. I had completely failed to meet the two friends I was supposed to meeting, but luckily, ran into another couple in the queue. Luckily, because once we'd got past the airport-style security, we found we had a while to wait until the main event. Without someone else to trade cynical comments with, I'd have been forced to listen to the warm up acts attentively.

We were seated by about 10:15am. The man himself was due on at 11:45 (though in true rock star style, he was late on stage). In the meantime, we were treated to a selection of local dignitaries, legislators, and the like - all women - indulging in an array of McCain-mashing, Barack-bigging, and rabble-rousing. It looked like all my preconceptions about American politics were going to be confirmed. The speeches were punctuated by rapturous applause, chants, and cheers. The name 'McCain' was greeted in the style of a pantomime villain. We were asked, amongst other things, to join in prayer for something or other, stand and recite the Pledge of Allegiance, and shout slogans in unison. In between speakers, we were treated to a soundtrack of U2 and Stevie Wonder. It was loud, manic, rhetorical, and almost entirely vacuous.

Then, at last, Obama took to the platform, pausing on the way to shake hands, hugging his support acts, grinning broadly, looking energetic. He had to appeal several times for enough quiet to begin speaking, and throughout his speech, was interrupted by (and occasionally responded to) shouts of 'Barack, I love you!' and the like. It really is about personalities here, and people attach themselves strongly to their politicians. Again, can you see Cameron, Brown, or Clegg having to deal with such interjections?

Since it's about personalities, it was no surprise that the first portion of Obama's speech was based around personal anecdotes. The theme was women's issues, and each one he discussed was set up by a story about his mother, or someone he knew, or his wife, or his children. At this point, I was smugly ticking off my list of expectations. Anecdotes, vague promises, rhetoric, issues addressed in general terms... but no policy, content, or the like.

The second half, though, changed this. Obama went on to talk about actual policy, about what he might do to address the issues he was discussing. Or at least, that was the impression one got. But, thinking back, there was a curious disconnect between the two halves. Although he mentioned a fair pay act, and pledged to support Roe vs Wade (and thus abortion rights), most of the policy stuff was about the economy, the tax system, a bit about renewable energy... all quite laudable, but nothing really to do with the issues he had previously brought up. The neat trick was that it was hard to notice this, the speech flowed so smoothly.

On the other hand, I was surprised at how often he stumbled, hesitated, lost his place, and so on. This wasn't the practised orator I was expecting. He seemed far less polished, far less certain, then I imagined American politicians had to be. He was, it seemed, genuinely put off by a brief interruption from some crackpot protestors who were escorted from the building by some fearsome looking security types. You'd have thought he'd have learnt to take such things in his stride.

I don't know that I can I say my prejudices about politics here were dispelled by seeing all this. The whole thing was so much more managed, so much less about conversation and more about conversion, than any encounter I've had with British politicians (and I think they're generally awful too). But as Obama left the stage to the strains of "Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm Yours" (?!), I was somewhat reassured. The guy seems credible, intelligent, a person genuinely concerned with the right problems and somewhere in the ballpark of the right solutions. And, given how so many people here react to his campaign, it's impossible not to get caught up in it all slightly, and hope that his election may bring some significant changes for the better in both America and in the wider world.

He's going to lose, isn't he?

Start, stop, back, forth

I've been back here a month now, nearly, and it doesn't quite feel like I've begun the new school year properly yet. The past four weeks have been somewhat disjointed. The semester itself has had an odd stop-start quality; the first day was a Wednesday, then there was a bank holiday, an extra day or two off owing to (unnecessary, luckily) hurricane precautions... and more than all that, I spent a week recently in Poland at a conference. Completely ridiculous: I spent three weeks back in Miami before getting on yet another transatlantic flight, and was in Europe just long enough to conquer jet lag before returning. I did, jokingly, ask if I could extend my summer break by three weeks and cut out the big travel times, but since I'm teaching this semester, that wasn't at all possible (that's going fine, I'll write about it later in the semester).

The Poland trip was good. I wasn't particularly looking forward to the flying, but that was OK, I had a row of seats to myself on the way back which is a godsend on a 10 hour flight. Though if Air Berlin/LTU continue to run Dusseldorf-Miami flights half-empty, I suspect they may go the way of Zoom soon. I stayed a night in Berlin on the way there, and on the way back, which was lovely, just because I was staying with a friend who I had meant to visit during the summer but hadn't due to lack of time, money, and organisation. Better brief than nothing at all.

The conference took place in a tiny town called Kazimierz Dolny, on the banks of the Vistula, near Lublin, about a two hour drive south-east of Warsaw. I got there by first, a train from Berlin to Warsaw (six hours, unremarkable) and then a bus laid on by the conference organisers to save us a struggle with Polish public transport. It would have been a struggle, too, because Kazimierz is not on the beaten track. It's a popular weekend destination for Poles, but not at all on the international tourist radar.

Perhaps it should be, because it's rather charming. It's about the size of Ambleside, but considerably prettier architecturally, and with a rich local history encompassing plagues, ghost stories, tales of the old Polish kings, and of course the horrific recent past, from the Holocaust to the Communist era. The town dates from the 15th century, and became rich during the 16th owing to its position as the most convenient place for grain from the fertile soils in and near the Ukraine to be loaded onto barges and sent to Warsaw or Krakow. It's renowned as a destination for artists, and surrounded by ten km of canyons packed into a single square km.

Unfortunately, I didn't get much chance to explore them, because (despite what some have suggested) this was not a holiday. The conference was intensive; most of the above was gleaned during the single free session programmed, during which we were treated to a guided tour by a woman with the most fearsome painted eyebrows I've ever seen. The rest was solid philosophy, 8:30am to 6pm, and since it was a small event, a workshop rather than a conference, the option of sneaking off for an hour or two wasn't really available. Still, all the work was rewarding, and we did get a chance to eat plenty of Polish food. Hearty, I think, is the best word.

Anyway, I've been back here since Thursday, and after a dull weekend catching up on my reading and going to bed at 10pm (jet lag again), I'm now ready to engage with the new year properly. Main aims: expand my social circle and range of activities, and find something insightful to say about the elections. I'll let you know how I get on.