This election day, I'm thinking of my Nana.
I'm thinking of how as a young woman, she fled political violence in her native Colombia to build a new home in a more stable country. I'm thinking about how she lived a long life, but not long enough to see her home country elect its first ever progressive president (just a few months ago!).
Coincidentally, I was living in Colombia at that time (in the very city she grew up in), and I was able to witness what felt like a miracle. A very conservative country, suffering from the violent inheritance of colonization and catholic invasion and the war on drugs, against a backdrop of the dangerous global rise of the far right--this unlikely country managed to elect one of the most progressive heads of state in the world, in 2022. That's a pretty big deal.
And I'm thinking about this, this election day, because that election was won by a very thin margin. I'm thinking about how it almost didn't happen. I'm thinking about how it was only possible thanks to the highest voter turnout in 20 year. And I am thinking about the countless number of voters who chose to vote for the first time. I am thinking of the poorest and most disenfranchised citizens who showed up at the polls. I am thinking of the indigenous women who rode 12 hours on public buses to vote at the 'nearest' polling stations. I am thinking of all the money and corruption that went into preventing minority citizens from voting, and I'm thinking about how they showed up in the millions and voted anyway.
I am thinking that I would like to see a miracle like that in my own home country.
So if you're on the fence about waiting in line today to cast your vote, I hope that you will think--about the country you want to live in, the future you hope will unfold, and about all of the people it takes to make a miracle.
Because history may deem us nameless and faceless, but when we show up en masse, we are the ones who make history happen.
And yes, maybe also spare a thought for my Nana. Who was in fact a very angry and judgemental woman who supported the republican party for 50+ years, and who would be turning in her grave right now (if the family hadn't had her cremated). Think about the mean angry ghost of my Colombian grandmother, who very much wants you to not show up at the polls to support abortion and other sinful progressive values. Think about her. Do it for her. Do it for Nana.
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tags: christmas mentioning, long distance-ish relationship, uci haji
"maybe one day you can come with me for winter break. or part of it." hajime sighs the words from the other side of his laptop screen, the man who has small eye bags setting in under his eyes and an irvine crewneck covering his top half.
his hair is a mess; brown strands that ultimately look like porcupine spikes cover his head, one eye squished from the way that his palm holds his cheek, the other looking at his screen. his face illuminated in his dark room, the only source of light is his tiny lamp that sits on his bedside table. the other, your face that’s smiling and rolling eyes, making him grin fondly.
"i do wanna meet your family… eventually," you smile. your face is a bit more awake, night time on your side of the world and the early parts of the morning for hajime.
attending the same university was how you met the man you claimed was your other half. joining a similar club that led to volunteering in the same parts of campus. eventually, leading to holding hands until your boyfriend dropped you off at your classes before sprinting to his own. but living on opposite sides of the world was the realization that hit for the past two years around the middle of the school year.
sure, it was only a month. but when seeing each other was standard on a daily basis, you and hajime coordinated times to call.
and, hajime planned the call that was on your christmas eve and his christmas morning. sacrificing a spare hour of sleep to spend time with you while his sun was rising and yours had set.
"maybe next summer?" he questions, and you laugh with a small and tired yawn. "i’d love that," and though he’s just woken up, the light isn’t the only thing illuminating the room, given the smile hajime brings.
"i’ve gotta go soon, making breakfast for the folks," hajime starts, using the american slang he’s picked up from three years of living in the country that you reside in. "grab your present for me, baby. wanna open them now?" a nod and you’re leaning to grab a bag that hajime displayed prettily for you. on his end, he’s standing up briefly to grab the box that you’d wrapped him. a red bow adorning the top with a sticker that reads ‘to: haji’ and ‘from: your baby.’
he laughs as he reads over it, though he read over it when you handed it to him in the airport, too. smiled and gave you a kiss on the cheek, then the lips when he had thanked you and asked you to zip it up in his backpack.
"you first," you smile, and hajime gets the urge to fight you on that, but it’s christmas, and though his nervousness is building up in his stomach, he nods with a roll of his eyes.
"fine," a huff of air leaves his lips, and you laugh, knowing his morning breath would hit you smack in the face if it were you instead of a computer screen.
tan fingers untie the red bow, gently unwrapping the paper as if he was going to reuse it later (he wasn’t, but he learned to be soft in everything he did from you). when he unwraps it, a small box is held in his hands, with a showing of the box from him to you and a slight smile that’s never left his lips, he opens it, and his eyes widen.
"shit, you didn’t need to get me this." he takes the gold chain out of the box, one that reads his first name in cursive and is going to look all too pretty around his neck.
"i know, i know. but it’ll look so good on you. saw it when i was shopping once and couldn’t resist," you smile with a tilt of your head. it was just a little something, and after two years of dating, you’d start investing in presents that would last rather than small junk from the mall. (you still had a christmas themed stuffie to give your boyfriend, though; it was more for you to lay against when you’d be in his bed. his pillows weren’t the comfiest, and it wasn’t going to be the easiest to wrap; you’ll give it to him when he comes back).
"this is so… i love it, hun’." his smile has fallen; instead, a face that reads disbelief paints his features, lifting the chain around his neck to hook it against his skin.
"how does it look?" and you smile at the gold that shines, sitting below his neckline. "just how i imagined… maybe better," hajime smiles at your words, his eyes now crinkled by the giant smile he displays before he nods in your direction. "your turn."
hajime’s stomach twists a bit more, loving the chain you’d gifted him and hoping you’d love his gift just as much as he loved yours.
sifting through paper, you unwrap a rectangular figure in the bag, taking the paper off, and setting it on the floor until your bottom lip puckers out and your eyes fall soft.
"oh, haji’," you fond, and he let out an invisible sigh of relief that you liked part of the gift he’s prepared for you. a photo of the two of you on a road trip you’d taken, the outside of the frame held dried cherry blossom petals. ones that he’d taken from his hometown, especially for the frame he ended up decorating for you.
"cherry blossoms?" you question with a smile, looking back up to your screen at a hajime who’s biting his lower lip in anticipation. it takes him a second to realize what you’ve asked, and he’s nodding shyly, "mhm."
he gives you another minute to adore the frame made out of bamboo wood, which holds a picture of his arm wrapped around your shoulders and big smiles pulling both of your cheeks upwards.
"there’s another, probably at the bottom," he looks from the bag to your side and back to you, whose attention is reverted to your computer screen. "y’didn’t have to get me two things," and he shakes his head while you dig towards the bottom of the bag.
an envelope with your name written in fancy cursive, something that you weren’t aware that hajime was capable of doing. opening it, as expected, there’s a cheesy christmas card that he’d probably gotten from your local grocery store. one that makes you laugh and, in turn, makes hajime smile lovingly at you; still, with an upside-down stomach, though.
when you open it, it takes a moment to process what fell out of the card. a white slip filled with tiny words, but once you read them, your eyes widen, and your jaw falls slack. "no…"
"you didn’t," you say, looking up to the man who’s nodding to confirm that what you’re reading is… precisely what you’re reading.
"think you can make it?" he asks with a breathy and nervous laugh, his arm scratching the backside of his neck while he glances away.
a ticket to japan that leaves on the 28th of december, just in time for new years. a ticket that lasts until you two have to fly back to california and start your spring semester together.
"i- holy fuck, hajime. you didn’t have to do that," and he nods because he knows, but he also knows that he wants to share traditions with you. he knows that he wants to introduce you to his family and his best friends from high school. he knows he wants to share a miyagi snow with you and his first un-lonely plane ride back to university.
(and don’t worry. like a good future-son-in-law, hajime called your family to ask permission to buy the ticket beforehand.)
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