Yes, it was Nov 5 when the Nov 4 things were happening in the US. Up in the morning to see what could be on...the count was somewhere at 190 / 200. A short bathroom break and the magic number had been crossed. McCain soon appeared for the concession speech. Even without the benefit of seeing the reporters comments in the papers, I thought it was a gracious speech. Always good to know that the journalists agree with you ;-) .
In scenes unprecedented, blacks and whites wept and laughed together. These were strange sights. It was normal for them...not for the rest. The special thing that the victory was was possible only because of the many who didn't think it to be special. So what if he is black... . He was elected because he was special, ran a great campaign, ...
Shortly afterwards, the whole family appeared, giving us all the pictures that will surely be even more famous than they already are.
It was an early off for a journey to an outstation location. As you can see from the picture of the Metro Station, I was in Paris that day. May be someday there will be a talk about where were you the day ...? This is not really to answer that question and one would not have to think a lot to answer that question because these kind of events never let you forget where you were. A lone black girl sat on the bench in the metro station. Was her morning somehow special today? Will she remember that she was at the Luxembourg metro station early on the 5th November morning (even if it was ...like every other day).
My own train arrived soon to take me with a change and Halle to Gare d'Lyon.
On the train a black drunk sang ' Obama president'. He was given a dirty look by...only a black girl in glasses. May be she wanted to say '...at least today, behave'.
Most of them sitting here in Halle are blacks. What is to be considered? That some of them could be having a worse off life than some of the other people in France or that they could be having a better life than if they (or their older generations) had somehow not reached France.
The TGV ride was not too long. It was a wet and rainy day and we passed the Avignon nuclear power station (if you look hasrd you can see the cooling toweres in the picture). The debates will continue. Nuclear, thermal, hydraulic, big dams... but somehow this day was a pause.
A bridge in the south of France. Not THE one that peeps out of the clouds but quite an impressive one any way. The two lines that you see are actually one bridge for the to and fro railway tracks. This is close to Avignon. The popes lived here in the 14th and the 15th centuries instead of in Rome. I have tried to find out why the pope moved here but in a short time could not do that. May be someone could leave a comment to that.
Picture of the Rhone. Only miles to go to Arles and split in to teh Grand and Petit Rhone and in to the Mediterranean Sea.
Starting back after work. This is the TGV station in Avignon - a special architecture. A mini of the world trade centre in Tokyo, the architecture of the inverted boat. Apparently is not considered pretty by the French...by some of the French at least ...as for me it is OK only the design does not seem optimal and why is the platform (not seen here) wooden, among other things a safety hazard (this is being put in to thank the colleague who accompanied me on the trip and acknowledge his direct and indirect contribution to the information in this blog including the bit on the wooden platform).
The news was all Obama.
Back in Paris and the platforms of the metro. The picture quality is bad (of course) and/but it hides the litter on the platform.
Look cloesly and you may see some litter.
See the girl with the white bag? She was approached by a beggar and she shooed him away. He came to me and spoke something in French. I told him I did not speak French and he switched to perfect English. I gave him some money. For some reason he went back to the girl again and this time she gave him some money. Either busy with her phone or for another reason she did not look up. I did not see her expression.
This black man and his family / friend were on the train. On this day of all days, one can't but not notice black.
Changing again at Halle. More black people at the station.
Dinner at the ..... . There was this group of Americans and their French friends. The conversation was difficult to catch and neither did I intend to but the accent was unmistakble.
It was late, the streets were empty. I was tired. But not tired enough to stop feeling the momentous day. It wasn't over yet.
There were plans to be made
Iraq or Afghanistan had'nt disappeared.
But from today, the dreamer will be taken a bit more serioulsy.
