Let's talk about submitting an absentee ballot from Ulsan, South Korea. My ordered absentee ballot never arrived from the Secretary of State, so I filled out the Federal Write-in Absentee Ballot online and printed it out. The FWAB came with some reasonable directions- not too intensive. Also, I was lucky enough to discover the Express Your Vote program, where FedEx payed to ship my ballot in one day, free of charge. Genius.
Here's where it gets interesting, though. To take advantage of the Express Your Vote deal, I had to get my ballot to the FedEx office by the 29th. Ulsan has one FedEx office, located in Nam-gu (the downtown area). I live about a 45 minute bus ride from Nam-gu (if traffic is good), and FedEx closed at 6p. So I left school directly and began my journey. I attempted to just hop a cab from school, since I figured it would be far quicker than attempting to get a bus ride in. I got into the cab, with a map for FedEx (in Korean, may I add...). The driver took a look at my map and gave me a big whopping, "Mullai-oh." (I don't know.) Super, let's try cab #2. Another fatty Mullai-oh. Perhaps cab #3? You guessed it... Mullai-oh.
So I ran to the bus stop in a frenzy, figuring that maybe if I get closer to the correct area, the cab drivers would have a better idea of what my map was indicating. I was greatly fearing that after all of this, I would arrive at the FedEx office too late. I arrived in Nam-gu, hopped into a cab and gave him my map, and got another super Mullai-oh. At least this guy had a navigation system! So he plugged the address in and off we went.
When we arrived at the supposed destination, there was no FedEx in sight. So I called the cab quits and figured I would be better off walking than paying him to drive me around. After a few minutes, I realized I would have no luck so I stopped into a restaurant and asked the owner-in the best impromptu Korean I could muster- if they knew where the FedEx on my map was. The woman of the business left with me to find it. After asking another pair of restaurant owners, we finally found the FedEx- in an absurd back alley, really nowhere near the downtown area you would have guessed it to be in. Super. At least the ballot got mailed and I actively participated in democracy once again. (After experiencing this, let me tell you that all of you who are at home and can vote easily have no excuse for not doing so!)
This election has got me thinking: I've been dealing with homesickness really well, I believe. I very rarely get feelings of homesickness, and when I do feel it, they're really more pangs of missing people. (Or massive Chipotle cravings!) These last couple days have been a little rough, though, I will admit. With the election a mere day away, I've started to really feel like I'm missing out.
It's sort of like I've been living this campaign for all these months, and now I'm not present for the final thing. Weird, I know- but it's really created more homesickness for me than anything else since I've been here. I know that many of us foreigners here will celebrate well if we see an Obama victory- but I get this big feeling that we'll be missing on an amazing moment at home.
Let America Be America Again
by Langston Hughes
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home--
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay--
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain--
All, all the stretch of these great green states--
And make America again!
Here's where it gets interesting, though. To take advantage of the Express Your Vote deal, I had to get my ballot to the FedEx office by the 29th. Ulsan has one FedEx office, located in Nam-gu (the downtown area). I live about a 45 minute bus ride from Nam-gu (if traffic is good), and FedEx closed at 6p. So I left school directly and began my journey. I attempted to just hop a cab from school, since I figured it would be far quicker than attempting to get a bus ride in. I got into the cab, with a map for FedEx (in Korean, may I add...). The driver took a look at my map and gave me a big whopping, "Mullai-oh." (I don't know.) Super, let's try cab #2. Another fatty Mullai-oh. Perhaps cab #3? You guessed it... Mullai-oh.
So I ran to the bus stop in a frenzy, figuring that maybe if I get closer to the correct area, the cab drivers would have a better idea of what my map was indicating. I was greatly fearing that after all of this, I would arrive at the FedEx office too late. I arrived in Nam-gu, hopped into a cab and gave him my map, and got another super Mullai-oh. At least this guy had a navigation system! So he plugged the address in and off we went.
When we arrived at the supposed destination, there was no FedEx in sight. So I called the cab quits and figured I would be better off walking than paying him to drive me around. After a few minutes, I realized I would have no luck so I stopped into a restaurant and asked the owner-in the best impromptu Korean I could muster- if they knew where the FedEx on my map was. The woman of the business left with me to find it. After asking another pair of restaurant owners, we finally found the FedEx- in an absurd back alley, really nowhere near the downtown area you would have guessed it to be in. Super. At least the ballot got mailed and I actively participated in democracy once again. (After experiencing this, let me tell you that all of you who are at home and can vote easily have no excuse for not doing so!)
This election has got me thinking: I've been dealing with homesickness really well, I believe. I very rarely get feelings of homesickness, and when I do feel it, they're really more pangs of missing people. (Or massive Chipotle cravings!) These last couple days have been a little rough, though, I will admit. With the election a mere day away, I've started to really feel like I'm missing out.
It's sort of like I've been living this campaign for all these months, and now I'm not present for the final thing. Weird, I know- but it's really created more homesickness for me than anything else since I've been here. I know that many of us foreigners here will celebrate well if we see an Obama victory- but I get this big feeling that we'll be missing on an amazing moment at home.
Let America Be America Again
by Langston Hughes
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home--
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay--
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain--
All, all the stretch of these great green states--
And make America again!
