Now?

Only 10 days until Obama is President. So much hope.

Yet, since I have been back from the DR, I find myself thinking about Sep. 11, 2001 quite a lot.

I think it is because I was living in Santo Domingo when it happened. That is where I lived it. Watching satellite TV from my internship at the UN- standing next to our IT guy who smugly proclaimed that we all had it coming. Hearing the arguments between the Western Europeans and the Eastern Europeans about whether it was deserved. Hearing false reports of the Sears Tower getting hit and figuring it was only a matter of moments until a plane reached the Mall of America. Trying to use my Dominican cell phone to get through to my parents-- to tell my mom to get home because her office was right by the Mall; to tell my dad that David should go home from school just in case. Hearing the Dominican radio commentators accuse the Japanese (retribution for WWII, obvio). Watching the towers fall and seeing the Texan woman who worked in my office fall to the ground like an ante-bellum lady fainting. The UN offices closed after the towers fell, and many of us went to the Conde Cafe in Santo Domingo, which is set directly across a plaza from the Catedral. The first church in the New World, so they say. I went there that day and got on my knees and cried. It was the only time I went to church while I lived in Santo Domingo. It was the only time in my life that I have actually begged "G-d" for mercy.

Before it happened, I had already planned to meet my Dad in Miami for a weekend toward the end of September. Many flights were cancelled during that time, but I managed to secure a flight to get there. I feel like I was a different person during those days in Miami. When I first arrived at the Miami airport, the immigration officer stamped my passport and said "Welcome home" and I started bawling. I remember watching some TV program/concert to raise money for victims and being unable to turn away from it. I remember eating lobster ravioli with my dad. At my request, my Dad and I both went to a Miami hospital and donated blood. Such a strange strange time.

I think that being in Santo Domingo and re-visiting many of the places I frequented during that epoch have made me reflective. I guess it's like how all of our parents remember exactly where they were when Kennedy was shot. Those snapshot memories of capital letter days don't fade, but sometimes they are brought into brighter focus by revisiting the places where one watched the world change.

It's been a long 8 years. I believe in Obama. I believe in this country of ours for believing in Obama.