Having managed to sleep for a few hours, but acquiring some bags under my eyes that perhaps needed to be declared to customs, I decided to take in my terrain. The trouble with booking any hotel abroad from your home country is that we can only see it using our own perception and experience because that is all we have until we see the reality. Little Britain is just that: little! One hundred miles for us is an awful long way to travel, like Scotland, which is 350 miles from where I live. That's another country entirely, both politically and geographically, despite being a part of the UK! So we don't handle distance well.
The hotel's blurb on the Internet said it was 'only 13' miles away from Chicago. I did a quick calculation. Where I lived in Berkshire was 12 miles from my nearest town, and that usually takes me exactly 15 minutes to reach it. There should be no problem, I thought, getting to downtown Chicago. Should be a cinch. Famous last words. As I do not trust my own knowledge on my first day in any new place, I love to ask for help from the locals. But here it seemed that the actual distance from the hotel to Obama's HQ differed according to who said it and which staff were on duty!! The problem with their limited perception meant that they had no concept of a lone traveller coming thousands of miles from home, not knowing a lot about her surroundings and genuinely needing help. Though quite helpful, they treated me as a native and it was a baptism of fire.
The Journey Downtown
I had signed on at HQ to do just one three hour shift on my first day, to get the feel of it all and to work my way in slowly. I was keen to get on with that as it started at midday and I had allowed an hour and a half to get there. I had been warned that I needed a taxi to the station, at a cost of $10-$15 max., and then $5 on the train, both of which I had budgeted for, and had taken into account, when I booked this particular hotel at their special rate. Everyone said the trains were about every half an hour. No problems, I had allowed plenty of time, but they disagreed about the length of the train ride. A couple of people said only 20 minutes while others said at least 35 minutes. No problems, either, I would get there in good time. Breakfast was a continental fare and having stocked up on that, I worked out my details for travelling quite easily, or so I thought, and ordered a taxi.
The taxi duly arrived and took me to the station in the expected time costing $14. Easy. All seemed well and going to plan. I began to smile with confidence. The waiting room was empty, I had obviously just missed a train. No problems. I had at least 75 minutes to get the next one and to reach there in time. I decided to really study the time table and discovered to my cost that the trains DID run regularly, but did not always stop at my station, and the next one was not due for three whole hours! Gulp! Panic. It meant getting there when my shift had ended! Not a great start to this auspicious day. There was only one answer for it: another taxi. "$50 dollars ma'am," the driver said cheerily.
The colour must have drained from my face turning me from Black to White in that split second because he suddenly seemed concerned and offered to give me a discount of $5 dollars, but he couldn't go any lower. "Downtown is a fair distance, ma'am," he offered helpfully. So much for being only 13 miles from Chicago, when the other taxi should have taken off at least five miles already! I decided Britons and Americans obviously used different kinds of miles to measure their journeys!! I had no option but to take it and it did take 35 minutes by car, travelling mainly on the highway. What kind of '13 miles' was that, I wondered. With tips, my taxi fares had already taken a staggering $62 from my daily budget and I still had my meals to pay. I suddenly felt very deflated. Not even when I pulled up outside the headquarters did the excitement return. I was just glad to have reached at last.
The Illinois Obama HQ
This hub of activity was a revelation in itself. It boasted a sign on an impressive building until you went inside, walked down to the basement and saw where it operated from. I had never seen so many people crammed into bare offices, on bare wooden desks, with bare walls and nothing but their motivation to cheer the place up! Every staff, no matter how senior, had to double up in the space provided. Nothing like this in the UK for our parties activities. They could take some lessons here! The only decoration being motivational drawings of the campaign provided by many pupils and others who had wanted to put their thoughts about Obama into words.
One said "I Barackandroll every day", another "Barack is simply the BEST", or "Barack for our President," all expected, of course, but the outpouring of love and the sheer volume of it was both moving and unexpected. Just as well because the place would have been pretty depressing in some respects. No plush offices, no clear hierarchy of power, no men in suits, except for Ken Bennett, the state director, whom I bumped into looking like everyone else in humility and wonderment. He smiled cheerily at me in the never-ending queue of us waiting patiently for instructions and asked where I was from. Of course, I couldn't miss the opportunity to tell him how I had come all the way from England to be there on the phones! "That's impressive. There'll be a lot of work for you, especially," he said ominously, with a broad grin, just as he was waylaid by Mike Flannery and a camera crew from CBS wanting to do an interview and a shoot.
I also managed to see the inscrutable Malik while he was trying to get through the queue. The political director for Illinois could pass for a student. I hope I didn't stare at him too much in amazement. I just had to have a few words with him. Everyone had mixed feelings now, he said. On one hand, they want the elections over, but it is also an exciting moment which they will never have again, so they wanted to savour it and enjoy it too. "No matter what happens after this, it will never be the same as now," he said, wistfully. "But it is very hectic here now and I must dash." He seemed so young, so vulnerable and so...well...ordinary. Not like a big office holder in the UK. Yet he was spearheading the political part of the state campaign. Wow!
On The Phones
The constant stream of rainbow people coming in by the minute was amazing to see. It just never stopped. One woman was on her lunch break. She wanted to do some phoning during that time. Another woman had been there all morning, She was just having a rest. It seemed to be about 40% men and 60% women, which was surprising at that time of day to see so many men devoting their time freely. No distrust here between the races. No angst, no racism, no fear. Just simple cooperation, trust, respect and mutual appreciation. Obama was certainly breaking down those barriers and teaching people how to work together for a common goal. Being together on a mission in such confined space would have changed perceptions somewhat. Most people there were on repeat days. They loved it and they didn't stop coming. Barack Obama's personal ambition has inadvertently ended up giving many unknown people the four most essential things they seek: to be significant, appreciated, valued and included, and you could see it in the joy on their faces as they waited.
I wasn't allowed to use my own cell phone, being from abroad, and they didn't have enough to go round but I didn't have to wait long and began my shift with a few butterflies in my stomach. I had to ask for volunteers to come in to ring key battleground states or to go to Indiana over the weekend to knock on doors and speak to people. I was fired up and ready to go!
I gingerly made my first call but I got a voice mail. Phew, that helped to steady the nerves. A few numbers had their mailbox full! I was not surprised. In fact, most of my list were obviously at work so I had to leave a prepared message, except that I cheekily slipped in a line of my own that said I had come all the way from the UK to give a hand so I hope they would come and join me on the phone as I would love to have their company! What they will make of that, and my accent, when they hear it, only heaven knows, but I began to smile. It felt good hearing all the other cheerful voices in the room saying their little spiels, cajoling, recording, or thanking parties for their support. I was certainly among friends. I began to relax but was still only leaving voicemails.
Hitting The Jackpot
I was beginning to despair of ever speaking to someone when, halfway through the list, I hit gold! I rang the next gentleman in line and his daughter answered. No, her father couldn't help, she said, as he was not well. However, her husband wanted to help and she would call him. His name was Evens and he came on the phone, marvelled immediately that I didn't have an American accent, then proceeded to complain that he had always wanted to do something but no one had called him.
I apologised profusely explaining how short-staffed the campaign was, which is why everyone like him was needed! When I asked if he could go to Indiana, oh, yes, he said. He would do two shifts on his day. Would he bring anyone with him? Yes, about seven people. "No, make that 12," he added, "I don't want to miss anyone off the list from my church. Perhaps I should get a carrier and bring more," he said, half to himself. "Put me down for 20 friends. There are many people I know who want to help and this is the last weekend. We might as well make the effort. I''ll ring back later to give their names and details."
I couldn't thank him enough for making my day!
Another round of voice messages followed and just as I was on my last call I heard another human voice. Gosh, I was pleased. It belonged to someone called Lorraine. There was a child crying in the background who refused to be pacified as she tried vainly to talk to me. "Just a minute," she requested and took him aside, but nothing doing. He screamed even louder. She must have taken him into another room because the noise was distant. "I am so sorry," she said. I told her that I should be the one apologising having rung at the wrong time. We laughed together and she said she definitely wanted to do a phone bank shift as she couldn't do the journey to canvass. I gave her the necessary details and was just about to say goodbye when she said. "Are you British?" Yes, I said, smiling. "You've come all the way from there to help us?" she asked with some surprise. "Yes," I replied, rather proudly.
"Oh, my goodness! God bless you, girl! You are some lady. God bless you so much and keep you safe. Welcome to Chicago and thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you. Thank you. You inspire me, girl. I've got to get on those phones but I must see to my kid. God bless you."
I was so busy listening to her I didn't realise that a few tears had fallen on to my list. Tears of sheer joy and amazement at hearing the passion and genuine care in this stranger's voice. Two people from different countries who were joined by a dream, and inspired by a vision of how one person could make a great difference to our world. But, right now, we were making a difference to each other. I felt incredibly proud of my afternoon's work.
I filled out my sheet with a smug smile, while still dabbing uncontrollable tears from my eyes: 39 calls made (the number allocated per shift), 4 people answered, 2 YES, 2 MAYBE, 17 messages left. Value of experience: Priceless!
I momentarily remembered the $62 spent. What $62? Suddenly money was the last thing on my mind. I would be back tomorrow for two shifts, even if I had to go hungry!
No comments:
Post a Comment