Our elections=the world's elections

No matter how you feel about the results of the elections, let me assure you that Spain (and most of the world, I believe) is ECSTATIC.

On Halloween night I speaking to a woman at a bar and as soon as she heard I was American, she immediately made sure I had voted. She said to me, "Spaniards feel like your elections are our elections. This year, there's so much excitement and hope."

On All Souls Day, I talked to a British woman, who expressed the same sentiments. "The United States, for better or worse, is still the leader of the free world; we're all looking forward to your elections," she told me. She, as well as all the Spaniards I talked to over the past week or so, were sure Obama's lead in the polls meant a definite win. With all to consider, such as the results of the past two presidential elections and possibilities of a McCain resurgence on election day, I told them not to be surprised or disappointed if things didn't turn out as they wanted or expected.

Yesterday, I arrived at school dressed in blue and white, and told my students that the day was extremely important in my country. Some of the students knew why, and knew the names of the candidates. Two of my fifth-grade boys called me over at one point to share an Obama cheer they had come up with. I finished my day in nervous anticipation of the results, which would not come until the early hours of my morning.

At 5 am I woke up suddenly, grasping desperately for my cell phone (perhaps telepathically sensing news?) Five minutes later, a friend in Minnesota called me. He had been watching the results, but told me he couldn't watch anymore. My heart, still half-asleep, was beating wildly. He couldn't watch anymore because the liquor stores were closing soon...and he had to buy champagne. I went out into our darkened living room where Erika was sleeping. I woke her to tell her the news, and we checked NYTimes on her Blackberry. McCain had just conceded the race. Patra came out into the living room, having heard our exclamations. We turned on our seventies-era TV around 6 am just as Barack Obama was walking onstage to give his acceptance speech. Straining our ears to catch his words underneath the Spanish translation, we were filled with joy. After he was done speaking, Spanish political commentators and news presenters tried hard to hide their grins as they repeated the news and showed clips of watch-parties throughout the world--Madrid, New York, Seattle, Kenya, Paris--all filled with people jumping, shouting, crying, hugging, singing, dancing.

Today, I feel proud to be an American.