The World is There

We travelled to Washington D.C. for meetings on South Sudan and to celebrate Jane’s birthday.  It’s been one of our favourite destinations over the years and the reasons are plentiful – great monuments, free attractions everywhere for the public, a throbbing sense of political power, architectural beauty and uniqueness, democratic activism throughout the core, and an endless stream of other intriguing qualities.

The world is there, with 175 embassies and centres of media operations from around the globe.  When I used to attend meetings in the American capital as a Member of Parliament, I came away with a better understanding of just how diverse a city it is.  In public places, English instructions are most often repeated in Spanish.

Washington D.C. is a living, breathing thing – an entity that seems so permanent and yet changes every day.  It is full of the pretense of power and shrouded in a world of secrecy.  And it’s always fluid and on the move.

In just one day we walked by a huge line-up of customers waiting outside the Georgetown Apple store for the new iPhone, journeyed with thousands of marchers up Pennsylvania Avenue in their efforts to press for action on climate change, took in a delightful cultural festival by Colombians as they celebrated their history, watched as Marine One descended to the White House, saw commercial planes fly over the Potomac and into Ronald Reagan airport every two minutes, took part in the dynamic life of both George Washington and Georgetown universities and generally felt carried along by a civic life that feels constantly restless.

And yet things are slower than we recall from other occasions.  The majestic Mall was almost empty on a beautiful and warm weekend in September!  Not nearly as many journeyed by the White House.  One of the tourism boards in the city says that people visiting the capital is down by 24% in recent years.  Many chalk it up to the Donald Trump influence, but there is no empirical evidence to support that.

What there is plenty of is citizen activism.  It’s everywhere – on placards, in marches and demonstrations, on buses and streets, on screens and speakers, in voices of anger and hope.  There is more of that than we recall in past visits and there is a sense of the urgent in these activities.

I was reminded of humourist P. J. O’Rourke’s observation: “The mystery of government is not how Washington works but how to make it stop.”  That was the sense we were getting.  People everywhere were attempting to find ways to curtail bad policies, to keep the environment from being destroyed, to save democracy from being washed over by the undercurrents of power and money.

And then there were the things they were attempting go get moving: power to citizens, loosening free speech from out of the official government line, to buy smarter, to travel using more public transportation, to elevate the voice of women and to rediscover the diverse fluidity of grassroots democracy.

Jane and I picked up some wine, grapes, crusty bread and cheese and sat on the steps of our favourite location: the Lincoln Memorial.  The sun was setting, with people moving up and down the majestic steps to visit the man who they say saved the nation.  A steady stream of Colombians in festive dress made their way over from Pennsylvania Avenue, singing and dancing to the cumbian rhythms of their homeland.  Three black male dancers dressed in white, performed their coordinated moves to the beats of rap.  Lovers kissed.  Photographers attempted to catch the brilliant auburn sky before it disappeared for another day.  Kids attempted to read the etched words of Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Speech on the vast wall.

And in the middle of it all were the two of us, watching humanity in moments of inspiration, joy and peace.  What the White House couldn’t deliver, these memorials did and it was energizing.

I made the comment that since I was getting older this might be my last time here in this great city.  But I didn’t feel sad or melancholic.  This had been a place that had infused my spirit and aspirations since I was young.  I had benefitted from it lessons, good and bad.  And there was the acknowledgement that history is constantly being made in this city.

We packed up our makeshift dinner and climbed up the steps one last time.  There was Abraham Lincoln, now bathed in the soft glow of ceiling lights, surrounded by the curious and awe-inspired.  I said to Jane that I wished I could just shake his hand and thank him for his influence on my life.  And that I loved him.

Then we descended the steps and talked of heading to Georgetown University in the morning and enjoying the pulsating life of the next generation.  That’s Washington – alive and with hope.