Yes we can.  It was a mantra being repeated by Obama at the end of his victory speech.  I really hope that it's true.  As we all know -- and everyone and their mother and brother will be writing/blogging/journaling/musing about -- last night Obama was elected the new president of the United States of America.

Most of the Peace Corps volunteers here in Mauritania voted for Obama.  I did.  I'll admit that a big part of my vote was due to the fact that Obama has political capital in foriegn policy.  At least here, but from what I've heard and read in the news, it's not just Mauritania.  And America desperately needs a foreign policy that won't alienate it from the rest of the world. 

Don't get me wrong, I know Obama is not the Perfect Savior of America.  I know that he gives a good speech and that it could be just happy, optimistic, rhetoric.  But I hope it's not.  Obama's positions aren't perfect, and aren't even always good (I'm not so impressed by his plan for the economy and that's a pretty important topic right now), but the way that he considers, talks about, and votes on issues gives me hope that he can make some good stuff happen for the U.S.  I think one of the best ways to do that is to make good stuff happen for the rest of the world (yes, I know, optimistic theory of globalization in a nutshell) and I think that Obama can show the American people how to make good stuff happen for the rest of the world.  And why helping others is a good thing.  I didn't feel that McCain could or would do that.  And the people of Mauritania didn't either.

It doesn't matter if they are right or wrong about that.  I mention that fact because, whether right or wrong, accurately or falsely reported by foreign (largely Arab and Frence) media outlets, the perception of McCain here in Mauritania was negative.  'He's just like Bush' they said to me too many times to count.  'He just wants to make America rich and take control of Iraq too.'  'If...what's his name? The guy that isn't Obama... McCain, right.  If McCain is president then America will just keep killing people like they are doing now in Iraq and Palestine.  And killing isn't good.  Do you think killing is good [they ask me rhetorically]? Ok then.'

I give those quotes, not because Obama's foreign policy is such a shining, new, wonderful, perfect solution.  But because they show how McCain would already be undermined when he came to the table with a lot of these countries.  McCain would be starting from a deficit.  Obama gets to start, whether fairly or unfairly, from a surplus.  Being the first black president with family in Kenya has it's perks.  The fact that Obama is the FIRST black president of America is not lost on the people here.  They hope that it signals a change in American politics that runs wider than the issue of American racism.  I hope so too.

As Obama said in his victory speech: "This victory alone is not the change we seek – it is only the chance for us to make that change."  I hope we follow through.

I'm in Nouakchott and figured I'd put out a little update, at least for my benefit.  I forget that, while Melissa is good about posting our life on her blog, I should also post so as to give my point of view and possibly mention things that she hasn't.

Um, Rachel came to visit us.  That is probably the biggest news.  She's been here for just over a week and it has been a fun whirlwind of a week.  We took her to San Louis (in Senegal), Rosso, Aleg, our town (of course), and Nouakchott.  We thought about adding Atar and Boge, but decided in the end that it would be too much traveling.  Now she's on her way back to Dakar with Melissa and she is hopefully going to go back to the states and tell everyone how awesome Mauritania is and that they should all visit us.  The people in our town loved her.  They loved that she came, and that she ate their food with them, and allowed herself to be "henna-ed".  Of course we didn't stay in town nearly long enough, but they forgave us when they heard that she only had a week and wanted to see lots of different places in Mauritania.

I've recently been having a "grey night of the soul" (thought of that just now.  It's not quite as bad as a dark night of the soul, so I changed it to grey).  I've been feeling like I wasn't well suited the job I've been assigned here.  I've been feeling like I don't have any real friends here.  I've been missing my family.  I've been missing the familiar (though, thankfully, Mauritania is much more familiar than it was a year ago).  Those things and other similar factors kind of culminated in a what's-the-point-and-why-am-I-here attitude.  I told myself I was here because God wants me here and I told myself I was here because I believe in this kind of work and that education is an important thing to struggle for, even if I'm doing so in vain.  But then the doubts hit pretty quick: "Are you sure that God wants you here?  Maybe you misheard.  You do realize you're struggling in vain, don't you?"  Those sort of doubts can be hard to fight.  But a few days ago, my relief came in the form of a simple thought: "This is where I'm supposed to be."  I had been thinking about Mauritania (looking out the window of a taxi) and about how the lifestyle here is so far below (monetarily) the 1st world lifestyle.  I was thinking about how even if I lived with these people I would never be at their level of desperation and so they would always see me as rich.  Then I thought about how, if I wanted to live in the 3rd world for a long time I would have to give up a lot of the things that I have, even now, that set me apart from the people here.  For instance, how can I say to someone that I have nothing else to give and then when they walk away I put the headphones of my Ipod back in my ears?  I realized that the whole Christian ideal of "holding your possessions with an open hand" -- signifying that you are willing for it to be taken from your hand at any point -- is complicated, but essential to living here. 

I knew all that, it's not like it's a new revelation.  I've heard it before, it's struck me as something about my life that I need to work on before.  But I think what pulled me out of my "grey night of the soul" was how that train of thought meshed together with something that I read about Mother Teresa ( I know, right?  Of course it would be Mother Teresa).  Shane Claiborne wrote in his book "Jesus for President" about how Mother Teresa would slip quietly out of banquets where she had been invited to speak in order to eat with the beggars or street people outside.  She was able to live and work in both worlds.  She didn't shun the world of the rich, but she also very consciously chose to live in the world of the poor.  I would even suggest that she was probably much more comfortable there.  And when my train of thought came to that conclusion I felt peace. 

I felt peace because I realized that God is training me to become comfortable living with the poor.  I am still, and probably always will be hypocritical with the way that I live my life and spend my money.  But I feel a stronger sense of right and belonging when I am living and working with the poor than when I was living in middle-class America.  I can't help that I am privileged.  I don't think that I will be able to stop wanting and missing all the goodness that my American middle class life had to offer me.  But I can't live that life.  It's too insular.  It's too hypocritical.  It's too removed.  And so I felt peace because I had thought to myself, "this is where I'm supposed to be".  God has been training me and will continue to train me to use my privilege to help others.  I'll never fit in to the poor world the way that I fit into my perfectly ideal life in the Wheaton years.  If you asked me what I wanted right now I'd tell you Wheaton: family close by, friends close by, beautiful weather, good food, great entertainment, so many different ways to pamper my wife and tell her I love her...I'm never going to want the poor life the way I want that Wheaton life.  So maybe I'll find friends in this new world.  Maybe I'll feel like I'm being effective in the work that I do.  I hope so.  But even if I don't ever fit in to this lifestyle any better than I am right now I am comforted by the fact that God is molding me to live here.  It is my privilege to use my privilege to help others.  I'm supposed to be here.  It isn't very cool, and I don't like it very much about half the time.  But anything else, any other way of life would be so discordant, so hypocritical to what I believe that it reassures me that this is where I'm suppose to be.