After the American Election

The very last presidential debate between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump was the one that I watched. It left the firm impression that one of them was (however one might disagree with her actions) undeniably endowed with knowledge, wit and seriousness, and without a doubt qualified for office at least in a technical sense. The other, a wealthy dilettante who resorted to humbug where his memory or quickness let him down. Not that Donald Trump is not quick-minded, perceptive, or mentally hardworking; but he is undoubtedly accustomed to using these qualities to different ends than to framing and executing public policy that is supposed to affect and to serve persons who are neither his self nor related to his self.

So I was surprised to wake up this morning (at 6:45 a.m.), and to see as the headline on the Guardian's website that Donald Trump is going to become the next President. I had expected to see that Hillary Clinton won, and then go back to sleep. Instead I tried to go to sleep, sniffling even though it felt like an impotent and weak thing to do, and finding after a while that the hand that was tucked under my cheek had tears all over it. Then I just stayed awake, reading a little election coverage now and then, and exchanging short thoughts with the parents and J.

After a restless morning I went to work before the doors were unlocked because I wanted to do something. At first the work wasn't as absorbing as I'd hoped, firstly because I felt the need to talk about the election, and secondly because it was terribly quiet at work from my colleagues being as shocked and dampened as I was. One American colleague (who, I will mention, had taken the trouble to vote, although he is living here) looked even more affected than the others, and it turned out that he had been awake since 1 a.m. reading the news. Even in the evening, it felt like a balloon had very noisily burst, and we were still plunged in the silence after the blast.