It's easy to forget the imaginative reach of the United States. The financial, the military, the political manifestations are more obvious. But the imaginitive reach about the U.S.'s potential is more widespread. I went to the South African National Biodiversity Institute, also home to the botanical gardens, today to fetch a copy of a paper that appeared in the institute's journal in 1983. The article is about chiles and I needed it for a reference for a story I'm writing. Someone had misplaced the copy that was made for me so I bought some illustrations and cards in the small bookshop while I waited for my contact to return from lunch. Then Anne-Lise found me and took me up to the library on the second floor and copied the article. On the way back down, we passed a mirthful man with a white beard and shining eyes and a sunburnt nose. Anne-Lise asked him where his American friend was and he said he had just left yesterday and would return on Super Tuesday. "Just in time to get off the plane screaming," he said. She bemoaned that now neither of them would have anyone to discuss Super Tuesday with. I told them they could talk to me. They didn't know I was American until then. The man turned around and walked with us and, in the lobby, we had a rapid-fire round table about the candidates. What was remarkable to me is that they spoke like they had a vote.
"I heard on the radio this morning this American journalist saying that if Hillary was the nominee, McCain might win," Anne-Lise said, her brow angry at the idea.
"I don't think that's going to happen," I said, "but it could still be miserable because so many people despise her."
"I heard that Bill Clinton was relaying that he had waited his whole life to see an African-American or woman as president and now it's come in this form," said unidentified man. "He was in church asking God why he did that to him."
"Well, I'm all for Obama," said Anne-Lise. "I'm sick of everyone else starting these wars and arguing and, if it's not him, it would just be more of the same."
"Me too," I said. "I think Obama represents a political evolution of several steps and we really need that. We need to get beyond the established battle lines."
"So you're for Obama and you're for Obama," said sunburnt man, thrusting a finger at us. "Well, I'm for the woman. I think Obama might be too pure for a politician. I think she's veteran enough to know that politics just sucks."
With that, he had other visitors waiting and waved goodbye. Anne-Lise walked me out and wished me well. I drove back into the rest of South Africa where Super Tuesday is still very far away.
