le quatre de juillet

natitingou, benin

a once-present, recently-absent feeling came over me last sunday evening. in the dark courtyard of the mud-constructed chez baba, my hostel for the weekend, i was fixed on a fifteen-inch screen television along with at least 30 malians. the brasilian defense was retreating lazily and an american forward redirected a brilliant cross into the net to take a 2-0 lead in the first half of the confederations cup final. and i.....was.....cheering.......for an american team.........in a foreign country? yes, as a matter of fact, i was.

now before i am dismissed as some america-hating liberal, there does need to be some context (and we all know that those who label lack the intellectual capacity to process complex phenomena). this is my 6th consecutive summer of spending at least 8 weeks in a developing country, meaning that i have had plenty of opportunities to watch american teams competing in international sport. let's face the recent facts: the basketball team is always cocky and lacks fundamentals, the antics of that pole vaulter in 2004 were enough to apply for danish citizenship, and how could i cheer against ghana in the 2006 world cup when i was watching it on african soil?

but this matter transcends sport. i have always had american pride. we are the birthplace of jazz, hip-hop, and bluegrass. we arguably make the best films (and i'm not talking about the terminator 2/transformers garbage we're subjected to each summer), have the best sense of humor, and can fix a cheeseburger like nobodies business. we have a certain degree of politeness sliced with an impatience that, while embarrassing, has a way of getting things done that i have not seen elsewhere in the world. we have among the best literature, execute our curse words with enviable efficacy, and our barbecue sauce has no parallel. in sum, we have an edge, we have creativity, and we have can-do.

but that had been overshadowed recently. the real reasons for being patriotic were usurped by a nefarious band of fat cats bent on making the states synonymous with white-skin, guns, intolerance for 'otherness', and military prowess. people who took some of our best words like 'freedom' and 'liberty' and 'patriot' and made them cheaper than a cell phone companies slogan. it was embarrassing to be an american abroad during the years of george w. bush. it was humiliating to have to apologize with each introduction and explain that you don't think your country has the right to kill and destroy societies for subsurface mineral rights. it was shameful to listen to others badmouth your country, and even worse to have to agree with them entirely. i didn't want to cheer for our athletes, hard-working young adults who existed outside of the political sphere, because a few bad apples had spoiled the whole damn bunch. the taste of america i had once thought to be fat tire had been diluted into bud light and i wanted no part of any of it.

but what a difference a year makes. eyes genuinely light up when i tell people that i am an american, and my new president is reason enough for a pat on the back. you cannot pass through a market without seeing an obama t-shirt or several framed photos of his inauguration or family. a recently befriended trio of a belgian, a brit, and a canadian all bought the obama t-shirts, mostly because they're kitschy and nearly silk, but to watch the high-fives and reactions they got walking around town tells the story. the buses in senegal, mali, burkina faso, and benin all have two miniature flags affixed to the front windshield: their own and ours. obamaphilia is everywhere.

on the surface, it is easy to assume this could be some transparent black-africans-supporting-black-president phenomenon. but just because most africans are relegated to some of the worst education doesn't make them stupid. people here would see straight through a president michael steele (which, unsurprisingly, most republicans can't). africa is all too cognizant of the treatment it has received from the stars and stripes. the effects of american cotton subsidies on international prices and its ramifications on malian cotton farmers (and the economy as a whole) is not uncommon knowledge. in burkina faso, it is well-known that their former beloved leader, thomas sankara, met his destiny in the form of a bullet because he drew american attention. apparently, trying to redistribute wealth to the teeming population living 10,000 leagues under the poverty line and providing free vaccinations against measles, yellow fever, and meningitis reeked of communism to president ronald reagan (hopefully a devoted reader of this blog via the fastest and securist wireless connection found in the nether-reaches of hell). and everyone knows the next destination of those who departed through those castles lining the entire coast of west africa so many centuries ago.

but there appears a modicum of a chance that this history may not have as many blood-stained chapters ahead of it as there are behind. i am proud to (finally) have a progressive president, but am more skeptical of how much change he can bring than most of the people i have encountered here in west africa. the tears in the african tendons are too great for any one man or any one generation, no matter how benevelont and effective, to heal. but what we are starting to see is favor in international opinion and that just might be enough for now. hope breeds patience, hope fuels hard work, hope sends millions onto the streets of tehran demanding that their voices be heard. hope can usher in trust and unity. hope can dissolve fear and squash the political aspirations of those who use it as a tool to achieve personal power. and while it is way too early and the world in too poor of shape for any sort of celebration, hope is what i have and will hold on america's birthday.

in spite of the brilliant play of our keeper, brasil was brasil and got 3 goals in the second half to win the championship. perhaps this was the perfect metaphor for a country that has grown remarkably of late but is still shy of what it could be. but what i do know is that when the us scored their two goals, the cheers from my malian companions was both vocal and genuine. and i know that if we keep imroving in football and in the way we interact with the international community, i will not be cheering alone wherever i may be when the americans take the pitch for the world cup next year.