Election '08 From the Other Side (of the World)

Jamie had all the connections. Well, perhaps more precisely, her homestay family had all the connections. It was edging ever closer to November, and Jamie was with her second homestay family in Wellington. It just so happened that Karen had been a foreign exchange student at Jamie’s mother’s high school way back when, and, when Jamie’s first homestay family politely told her she needed to move out because they were leaving the country, Karen and Greg gladly took her in.

They both worked for the New Zealand government, doing whatever it is people who work for national governments usually do. Education something-or-other having to do with the Embassy seems to ring a bell. Regardless, Karen and Greg nudged Jamie (and thereby myself and our friend Andrea) into doing Embassy-related things.

We went to a few meetings of the New Zealand-American Association, where a few American expatriates and more than a few New Zealanders who thought us Yanks were alright met at a fancy downtown hotel once a month to carry around those little hors d’oeuvres plates filled with spring rolls and mini meat pies and chat about the good ol’ U-S-of-A. Though, with us young ‘uns among the ranks, talk usually turned to us and our study abroad experiences. After giving our opinions on Wellington and the All Blacks, we’d usually either get invited to some other event coming up, or hear a story about so-and-so’s trip to the Grand Canyon or Alaska last year. We got invited to attend monthly parties at the U.S. Marine house downtown, but, through a series of continually unusual events that included bad weather, illness, and general apathy, we never made it to one.

But as November slunk ever closer (I say “slunk” because November meant going home to a grey, cold Ohio and therefore was dreaded), we started hearing a lot of talk about the presidential election back home. Even though it was also a national election year for New Zealand, I seem to recall seeing the faces of Barack Obama and Sarah Palin on New Zealand television far more often than that of John Key, New Zealand’s soon-to-be-new prime minister.

Through Karen and Greg’s connections, we were invited to attend the American Embassy’s election-night party. Except of course that, because of the time difference, it would really be more of an election-afternoon party, held on November 5th. So while the Obama kids probably stayed up way past their bedtimes to see Daddy make history, we were done with all the revelry before dinnertime.

The event took place downtown at the convention center. Jamie and I ended up going, along with Jamie’s then-fiance Adam, who had arrived (and proposed) just a few days earlier. After some confusion over whether we were really invited (which included a few phone calls and some name dropping), we entered a banquet room be-decked in American flags and red-white-and-blue streamers. A large projection screen was streaming CNN live, and someone from the Embassy was standing in front of a dry-erase board, coloring in states on a map of the U.S. as the election results came through. I noted that every time a blue state was scribbled in, there were cheers.

Aside from the fact that the U.S. election seemed to take precedence over the New Zealand one, the other thing that I found surprising was the overwhelming support Obama seemed to have in this small South Pacific nation. News coverage was slightly biased in the Illinois Senator’s favor, and it seemed the average kiwi was ready for (okay, ecstatic about) a change in America. Even foreigners in New Zealand were following the American election. I remember my very first week in Wellington, meeting a group of Malaysian men at a marae lunch. When they found out I was from Ohio, they got very animated, spouting phrases like “swing state” in their broken English. And this was in July. When I told them I supported Obama, they each gave me a high-five.

The atmosphere was similar at the Embassy’s election party. As American ex-pats and dignified New Zealanders in suits and ties milled about eating miniature hamburgers and hot dogs with Heinz ketchup and American cheese, the excitement was palpable. Well, almost.

The American Ambassador to New Zealand stopped by to give a little speech before the results were announced. By the time he took the microphone, however, the blue colored-in states on the dry-erase map clearly outnumbered the red ones. And, according to Jamie, who had met him when Karen and Greg hosted him at dinner weeks earlier, the Ambassador was a “good friend” of George Dub-ya. It seemed that along with a southern drawl, they must also have shared speech writers, and perhaps a similar grasp of the English language.

Jamie, Adam and I were the youngest attendants by far to the Embassy event. By default, we quickly began attracting the attention of the various news outlets that had camera crews and reporters at the event. And, when they found out that we were all from Ohio, AND that we supported opposite camps (Jamie and Adam had both given John McCain their votes), camera crews were basically lining up to talk to us. For an afternoon, we were TV stars. In New Zealand, at least.

By the time Obama was giving his speech to an emotional crown in Chicago and the Obama supporters at the Embassy were clapping each other on the back, I had told at least seven reporters why I liked Obama and shared with them my hope that he actually could affect some change and survive his first year in office. “Is America ready for a black president?” they asked. I wasn’t really sure it was, but I had hope.

A year and a half later, with the national government still basically in disarray and another election day approaching, I think back to the year when I got to see the American election process unfold from halfway around the world.

What do I remember most? Not the mini burgers or the television interviews or the cheers as Obama’s name was announced as the winner. No, it was the way New Zealand CARED about an election happening oceans and continents away. You don’t see that everywhere.

As I walked back to my apartment that evening, my Obama pin proudly displayed on my jacket, a carload of New Zealand college students drove past. Two girls were hanging out of the backseat windows, whooping and waving their arms. And at every intersection, the driver was stopping so the girls could yell, at the top of their lungs, “OBAMA WON!!!”