Text & Photos: Francisco Collazo
Translation: Julie Schwietert Collazo
[vease abajo para la version en espanol]
*

I already have the Sunday edition of The New York Times.

This time, I made sure I was home on Saturday night because I’m no longer confident I’ll get my copy if I don’t act quickly.

We bought two copies of this one, one to read and the other to keep.

My plan was simple: get up in the morning on November 5, buy The Washington Post, and then buy The New York Times once we were back in New York. It was an historic edition, one I wanted to save forever.

Simple,right? Well, it wasn’t as simple as it seemed or as easy as the plan sounded.

*

The day of the elections, my wife and I were in Washington, D.C., blogging about the results with a group of writers at NPR. It was an incredible experience, considering what the election meant for Americans and given the history of the United States.

The room where we were working was a beehive, enthusiastic and intense, with results and emotions alike bouncing from one side of the room to the other: “Obama is ahead in Florida!” someone shouted with emotion. “McCain won Virginia!” someone else shouted, and the room filled with breaking news squawking from three televisions and a large screen on which the election results were being refreshed every few minutes by NPR. The moment was transformative, not just for me, but for people around the world.

During my stay in Washington, D.C., I’d walked along the streets before we started blogging, visiting polling places and looking for Obama political posters: nothing! It seemed like the earth had just swallowed them up. It was as if there had never been a campaign in his name.

The next day, we woke up with the idea of buying the newspaper in Washington, but all of the newsstands were empty. There was no way to find a copy of the paper anywhere in the city. We tried to find the paper at various shops and gas stations between Washington and New York, making frequent stops at restaurants, newsstands, and pharmacies, but the result was always the same: “We don’t have any copies.” “We ran out at 10 AM.” “Sorry!”

At this point in the journey, I began to feel defeated and annoyed. “How could this happen?” I asked myself again and again. Isn’t this the country where you can find anything you need or want?!
I started to speculate that the shortage of papers was a press conspiracy intended to stimulate demand and increase prices, a thought that made me sad.

We arrived in New York at 11 PM and drove around the city looking for copies of The New York Times. The same bad luck followed us. Defeat and depression! The first Black American was elected to the highest position in the United States and I had no newspaper! I couldn’t get over it.

We bought copies of other newspapers—Le Monde, El Tiempo, and others—but for me, it wasn’t the same. I wanted the November 5 edition of the Times; the rest didn’t matter to me.

A scene from the movie “Schindler’s List” came to mind, the one in which a high official for the German army tries to convince Schindler that he can “replace” the workers he’s lost when they’re “accidentally” sent to the concentration camp with a fresh batch of workers. “The train comes and we turn it around,” the official says, but Oskar interrupts him, saying, “Yes, yes, I understand, but I wanted these!” I know the feeling.

*
My wife was suffering, watching me in this state, and she decided to order the November 5 edition directly from the office of The New York Times… at the price of $14.95 per copy. But even getting this copy took days of patience. Every time she went online to complete the order, the server crashed. Six times or more, the same problem. But finally, her order was processed. I felt relieved and vindicated.

Now, I have not one, but 10 copies of The New York Times, for a cost of $224.50. We learned that after every attempt she made to buy the paper, she was charged for a full order. Well, at least I can breathe now: one is too many and a thousand is never enough!

*
Uno es mucho, y mil no es suficiente

La edicion del domingo del New York Times la tengo ya. Esta vez me aseguro que esta este en casa el sabado en la noche “por si las moscas” ya que no confio que encontrare una copia si no actuo con rapidez.

Compramos dos copias de este, una para leer y la otra para guardarla para futuras generaciones. Mis ambiciones eran simple: me levanto en la manana del dia 5, compro copia de El Washington Post y una vez en Nueva York compro una copia del New York Times, y estas las guardare para la posteridad. Verdad? Bueno, no es tan simple como parece ni tan facil como suena.

El dia de las elecciones mi esposa y yo estabamos en Washington, D.C pasando los resultados de las elecciones instantaneas en la red electronica. Una experiencia unica por lo que estas elecciones significaban para nosotros y para la historia reciente de los Estados Unidos.

El salon donde estabamos hubicados parecia una colmena de abejas por la intensidad y entusiasmo con que los resultados y emociones corrian de una esquina a la otra: Obama esta arriba en la Florida-uno gritaban con emocion- McCain gano en Virginia-otro gritaban y el salon se llenaba de noticias recientes unidas al sonido de los tres televisores y de la pantalla gigante que nos alimentaba con las noticias frescas y recientes que llegaban a los studios de NPR (Radio Publica Nacional en sus siglas en espanol). Esta experiencia era transformativa no solo para mi sino para muchos alrededor del mundo.

Durante mi estancia en Washington, D.C. sali de la emisora antes de comenzar la transmision por todos los sitios electorales para buscar las pancartas politicas de Obama y nada. Habia una ausencia total de todo lo refente a este. Parecia que se lo habia tragado la tierra. Era como si nunca se hubiera hecho campana politica con su nombre. Nada!

Al dia siguiente nos levantamos en la manana con la idea de comprar el diario en Washington y en cada uno de los estanquillos estaban vacios, no hubo manera de encontrar una copia de este en ningun lado de la ciudad. Tratamos de comprarlo en el camino desde Washington hasta Nueva York hacienda paradas frecuentes en gasolineras, cafeterias, estanquillo de revistas y periodicos y los resultado fueron los mismos –No hay copias, estas se agotaron como a las 10 de la manana, lo siento! Ya a este punto en el camino me sentia derrotado y molesto. Como puede pasar esto? Me preguntaba una y otra vez, no es este el pais donde puedes encontrarlo todo? Ahora estoy pensando que es una conspiracion por parte de la prensa para que halla demanda y subir los precios- pense con mucha tristeza.

Llegamos a la ciudad de Nueva York como a las 11 de la noche y andamos toda la ciudad para conseguir copias del New York Times y corrimos la misma suerte una y otra vez. Me senti derrotado y muy deprimido por muchas razones: El primer Afroamericano electo para la mas alta posicion en los Estados Unidos de America y no tengo esa documentacion para anos venideros; Que le digo a mis hijos cuando me pregunten por que no tengo una copia original de esa noticia. No puedo perdonarme esto!.

Compramos copias de varios periodicos de Nueva York: Le Monde, El Tiempo y otros, pero para mi no eran lo mismo, yo queria la edicion de Noviembre 5 y los demas no me importaban de la misma manera que este. Me vino a la mente una escena de la pelicula “La Lista de Schindler” donde un alto oficial del ejercito aleman trata de convencerlo, diciendole a Oskar Schindler que el podria “re-emplazar” a los trabajadores que el habia perdido al enviarlos por accidente a Auschwitz (campo de aniquilacion y exterminio en masa), por un cargamento fresco de prisioneros que recien llegarian: El tren llega y nosotros los desviamos –el official Aleman dice- y Oskar interrumpiendole le dice- Si, si yo entiendo, pero yo quiero estos!- de hecho la escena tomo un significado profundo y personal. Para mi era una revelacion muy intima y emocional.

Mi esposa esta sufriendo al verme sufrir y decide ordenar esta directamente desde las oficinas del New York Times a un precio de $14.95 cada copia. Obtener esta copia fue un trabajo de dias y de mucha paciencia. Cada vez que entraba a la pagina para completar la order, esta se caia o se desconectaba, o un anuncio le decia: “Debido al volumen de pedidos no podemos procesar su orden. Por favor trate de Nuevo” y asi ocurrio por 6 o mas veces hasta que en uno de esos ultimos intentos logro ordenarlo. Senti alivio y me senti vendicado por todo mis esfuerzos mentales y la tensiones de no tener esa copia. Ahora, tengo no una, pero 10 copias del New York Times por un costo total de $224.50 ya que despues que cada intento que se hizo este se proceso como un pedido completo.

Al final, puedo respirar y comprender el dicho: Uno es mucho y mil nunca es suficiente!

Text by Francisco Collazo
Photo by Julie Schwietert Collazo
*
With all the excitement of our election night blogging experience at NPR, it’s taken us awhile to follow up on a request from a student in my cooking class to post a recipe for my cream of basil soup.

We first tasted cream of basil soup at the extraordinary Hotel Villa Ganz in Guadalajara, Mexico a couple months ago. At the time, we weren’t sure what the soup was. We spent 10 minutes guessing the ingredients and finally realized that the unexpected flavor of the soup was attributable to basil. An easy soup to make, and one that’s surprising and pleasing to guests because of its uniqueness, I decided to replicate the soup by devising my own recipe…and adding a final flourish.

Ingredients:

2 Tablespoons of olive oil
3 cups of broth (vegetable or chicken)
1 clove of garlic, minced (or in a paste after roasting in the oven, which is even better!)
1 cup of heavy cream
1.5 cups of basil leaves, chopped fine
1 medium onion, minced
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 teaspoon of anise seed (optional)
chile serrano to garnish (1 per serving) (optional)
*
Directions:

1. In a saucepan or soup pot, sautee the minced onion and the garlic in the 2 Tb. of olive oil just until golden.
2. Add basil to the onion and garlic mixture; sautee for two minutes.
3. Add broth to the basil/onion/garlic mixture. Bring to a boil and then lower the heat. Simmer for five minutes then remove from heat and allow to cool.
4. Once the soup is cool, puree in a blender or using an immersion blender.
5. After blending, return the soup to the pot and heat on medium.
6. Add the heavy cream and anise seed. Cook until the soup thickens somewhat; stir continuously during this process.
7. Remove from heat and serve.
8. If you’d like to make the dish slightly more impressive, roast serrano chiles on the stove and garnish each bowl of soup with a single chile (uncut and unseeded).
9. Serve and enjoy!

Francisco and I are blogging live from NPR HQ in Washington, D.C., along with 20 other bloggers from around the country. We’ll be posting here on CollazoProjects and on MatadorPulse. We’ll also be microblogging on Twitter (@collazoprojects) and Facebook (Julie Schwietert Collazo).

To follow along:

1. Hit your fresh button a lot.

2. Stay awake! We’ll be blogging until the election is called and possibly beyond. NPR staff will let us stay here until 4 AM.

3. Call us! You can call 917-536-3753 (Julie), 646-708-1472 (Francisco) or catch us on Skype (novoarte AND fcollazo8.5). We want to know what you’re doing– are you partying? Warding off nausea? Reflecting on your day? Share your experiences with us–either by phone or in writing (e-mail: writingjulie@gmail.com).

Peace,
Francisco & Julie

Text by Francisco Collazo & Julie Schwietert Collazo
[vease abajo para la version en espanol]
*

We live in Queens, the most ethnically and culturally diverse county in the United States.

And nowhere is that diversity more clear–or more moving–than at my polling place on election day.

Under yellowed portaits of Abraham Lincoln and George Washington nailed on the wall of a school gymnasium, Pakistani and Bangladeshi poll workers check voter registration cards while a Puerto Rican poll worker indicates the line where I should sign the voting register. People waiting to vote are speaking 10 different languages–I counted.

After pulling the red lever, I come back out into the sun and meet Francisco on the sidewalk, where he is talking with Jose and Estel, a couple from Cuba. Jose and Estel are in their 80s, have been married 53 years, and have lived in the US since the 1970s. They both walk–slowly–with canes. “Could I ask who you voted for?” Francisco asks.

“OBAMA!” Estel said, without hesitation.

“He has good policies. He’s a good speaker. We have to stop looking at the world as black or white. It’s time to realize that we’re one race: the human race. I told all my friends to get out and vote for him,” she added.

If an elderly couple with two canes and two voting cards can get up in the morning, get dressed, and walk–however slowly–to the polling place because they believe democracy is that important, you can too.

NOTE: We’ll be live blogging all day (and all night!) from NPR’s headquarters in Washington, D.C. If you have a story you’d like to share, please e-mail us at writingjulie@gmail.com.

Photo: Joe Crimmings Photography (Flickr creative commons)

*
Con 2 Bastones & 2 Cartas de Votantes, Si Que Podemos

Nosotros vivimos en Queens, el condado mas diverso etnica y culturalmente en los Estados Unidos.
En ninguna otra parte esta diversidad es mas clara-o mas notable- que aqui en mi sitio de votar en el dia de eleciones.

Bajos los retratos amarillentos de Abraham Lincoln y George Washington que cuelgan en las paredes del gimnasio, Pakistanis y Bengalies trabajan fuerte revisando las tarjetas de votantes mientras su colega Puertorriqueno se encarga de organizar la linea de votantes e indicar en que seccion se deben registrar. Las personas que esperan para votar conversan en mas de 10 lenguas y dialectos diferentes-contar las lenguas y observar mis alrededores fue mi pasatiempo favorito mientras esperaba para votar.

Despues de empujar la palanca de mi maquina de votar, salgo afuera donde Francisco me espera hablando con Jose y Ester, una pareja de Cuba. Jose y Ester estan en los 80, ambos estan casado por 53 anos-nos dice Ester- y ambos han vivido en los Estads Unidos desde los ’70. Ambos nacidos en la Habana. Con sus pasos lentos y con la ayuda de baston han viajado desde su casa que esta a 4 calles para dar sus votos y hacer la diferencia-nos dicen- “Me podria decir por quien votaron?”- le pregunto.

“OBAMA!” Ester me dice sin vacilar un segundo, como si mi pregunta estubiera fuera de lugar.

“El tiene una buena politica. Es un buen orador. Tenemos que parar esa costumbre de mirar el mundo en blanco y negro. Es tiempo ya de saber que somos una sola raza: la raza humana. Yo les dije a todos mis amigos que que salieran y votaran,” agrega.

Si una pareja de ancianos con dos bastones y dos tarjetas de votantes se levantaron esta manana, se aroparon, caminaron-no importa que fuera ese paso despacio-hasta su centro para votar porque creyeron que la democracia es importante, yo creo que tu tambien puedes.

NOTE: Nosotros estaremos conectado al blog de la red todo el dia (y toda la noche) desde el edificio central de la radio publica nacional (NPR) en Washington, D.C. Si usted tiene una historia que le gustaria compartir, por favor envie a: writingjulie@gmail.com.

*Tourist remark, overhead in Union Square this afternoon

It’s true: You’re not going to find any pro-McCain gear in Union Square in New York City.

Photos shot this afternoon in Union Square:

For some sweet Obama-gear, check out GrassrootsT.com
Francisco is sporting the green Obama 08 tee; I’ve got the same design in dark blue (not pictured here; couples Obama tee photo coming soon!). Nice graphic nod to Mexico’s ‘68 Olympics in this design!

Be sure to visit CollazoProjects and MatadorPulse on Election Night: we’ll be blogging live from NPR’s headquarters in Washington, D.C.!

Photos by Francisco Collazo and Julie Schwietert Collazo