Hugging Every Color in the Rainbow

My voice is hoarse, my head is spinning, and I can’t get to sleep. I kept hearing the charging rhythm of our daughter’s strong, light footsteps. Before turning in we checked our voice mail. Jackie had somehow accidently dialed her parents while running.

I had to get out of bed, put my clothes back on, and collect some thoughts after an evening I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

I just enjoyed the wildest night I’ve ever had in Seattle. The Westin Hotel was overrun with happy voters as our state’s Democratic Party celebrated. Our two senators and newly re-elected governor (all women) raised their hands in jubilation from a stage overlooking a jam-packed ballroom filled with the new and diverse political landscape of America.

During the party my iPhone was busy with emails from friends in Europe — Matteo in the Cinque Terre wrote “Ciao Rick, You Americans gave to the entire world, after many years, a big sign of an historical changement. Obama President is the right person in the right place for a new world.” Another Italian, Luca, said for America it was “like winning the world cup.” Steven from Ireland is now planning a road trip across the USA with his girlfriend.

And both our kids spontaneously and simultaneously had an animal instinct to rush to the charismatic new leader — the hope of their generation and suddenly a global political icon. In Washington DC, Jackie and her girlfriends ran from her Georgetown University dorm across town all the way to the White House just to jump up and down and scream for joy at the gates of the most powerful house in the world.

Meanwhile, in Indiana, Andy and his buddies had jumped into a car and drove two hours from their Notre Dame campus in South Bend to be at Grant Park in Chicago with a quarter of a million people to welcome our president-elect.

Back in Seattle, at nearly midnight Anne and I were high-fiving the garage attendant and dancing among the taxis blinking their lights and honking their horns. I hugged every color in the rainbow. It seemed every car had its windows rolled down, as if everyone wanted to savor every ounce of the convivial one-ness that was sweeping our city’s streets.

Speeches from both a gracious loser and a gracious victor reminded us that our greatest bond is not our party affiliation but the fact that we are Americans, and that we are one nation with a big job ahead. Talking with Jackie — now about 3 a.m. for her in DC — we celebrated the fact that for her very first presidential election we had just witnessed a peaceful revolution of sorts, and the resilient wonders of American democracy.

Dropping in on Georgetown

Anne and I have been completely immersed at our daughter’s “parents’ weekend” here at Georgetown University in Washington DC. We have been getting to know her friends, teachers, deans, dorm, campus, and the surrounding neighborhood. She is just energized to learn and surrounded by new friends that will make the environment here even richer.

I don’t think Anne and I have ever wanted anything so much as to see our daughter Jackie get into this great school. It’s funny when you really want something badly and you have no power. We are so thankful she’s here.

While the students were carrying on with their regular class loads, parents were given a chance to sample the professors here. We attended a lecture by a psychology professor (Fathali Moghaddam) called “How Globalization Spurs Terrorism: Challenges for the Next President.” It reminded me how stimulating the university years are. Here’s a peek at my notes:

Threats of globalization hit different societies differently. We fear losing jobs, while many fear losing their culture.

The demands of the global economy (large-scale units) are pitted against the demands of cultural identity, causing anxiety. Thousands of years ago, the logical social unit was a group of around 500 people. Today that number is getting huge (with vast free trade zones). Cultural diversity is the victim. For example, it’s estimated that there were 15,000 languages on the planet 500 years ago. Today there are about 6,000. By 2100, there will be a predicted 2,000. A handful of languages go extinct every year.

Rising material expectations are unrealistic. Everyone wants to be rich as Orange County. That will result in some pushing and shoving.

Today there is greater movement of people and cultural forces without “pre-adaptation.” Groups are getting into contact without a gradual readiness for contact, resulting in more conflict.

“Sacred carriers” become more important to a group when it is under threat. That’s why the Islamic headscarf (symbolizing the traditional position of women in Islamic society, which is threatened by Western culture) is important to fundamentalist Muslims. That’s also why the American flag is most important to Americans who feel their way of life is threatened. We may ask why the scarf is such a bone of contention. They wonder the same about our flag.

Walking back to our Georgetown hotel — on well-worn red-brick sidewalks past stout and lovingly painted two-story buildings, square yet elegant, and kicking blazing golden leaves that just fell — I thought how great it is that Jackie is being exposed to people like professor Moghaddam, who’s from Iran (and who gave us his home phone when I promised him I’d encourage Jackie to consider him). As we walked, we thought Jackie will enjoy what must be one of the best “U districts” in the entire country. M Street and Wisconsin Avenue are a cancan of tempting places to shop, eat, and drink. I wear my little “Hoya Dad” pin with pride and gratitude. And I can only wonder about the fun and learning this school will bring Jackie.

Celebrating Homecoming with a Good Cigar?

 finished my trip with a sprint — updating Bruges and Brussels in a frenzy and using the flight home to input my notes. Getting home was wonderful — seeing family after nearly two months away…finally catching up with Anne…enjoying the last days before empty-nesthood as Jackie, our youngest, is heading off to Georgetown University in three days…and Andy is heading back to Notre Dame in a week.

Our last nights with Andy were particularly fun, as he shared photos from his semester abroad. (I was envious of the fun he had — which we’ll be sharing in a series of entries here shortly.) He’s so excited about the experience, that he’s building a website to share and organize information for other students making weekend trips from their European study home bases.

Travel has gotten Andy into the ritual of appreciating fine cigars. It’s both strange and fun having a 21-year-old son sit on the deck and teach you how to appreciate a good Cuban cigar. Sophisticated as he was in explaining the qualitative differences in cigars from various Latin American countries, he admitted it was un-cool to smoke it right down to the very end. (And sophisticated as he was, I was struck by the fact that this 21-year-old cigar aficionado with the burny fingers had never heard of a roach clip.)

Andy’s youthful sophistication intrigues me. When we met up in London, I took him out to dinner and squirted oil all over my shirt while ripping the head off a shrimp. Andy looked at me and said something like, “Not staining your shirt when you’re eating out is a lifestyle.” Then he shared a highlight of his London stay with me — a cigar lounge. He took me into his favorite, and together we shopped for the best cigar money could buy. (He also showed me how willingly cigar salespeople can slip the ring off a Cuban cigar and slip the cigar into a tin from a country not weathering an American embargo, and suddenly you have no way of knowing where that tobacco actually came from.) Andy knows how to make that effete scene and feel like it’s not forced.

One great thing about doing my work in Europe is that I’m out of touch with the day-to-day challenges back in my office. My first few days back home are always spent getting briefed on things. Tim, my radio producer, announced that (in just our third year on the air) our radio show is now carried weekly by 99 stations. He gave me CDs of new shows (with guests like Salman Rushdie, David Sedaris, Lord John Alderdice, and others) that are just better than ever. We must have a party when we crack 100 stations.

The best news of my homecoming was about our Iran show. The network offered our one-hour special to the public television system and well over a hundred stations responded enthusiastically, saying they’d run our show. Only seven said, “No, thanks.” This means this January, we’ll have our Iran show running in nearly every major city in the USA. Now we set about finishing the show, and I am busy turning my Iran blog and photos into a companion booklet.

Within days of my return, our staff enjoyed a sunny, annual office picnic. It seems like just a couple years ago when there were 20 of us and only a few little kids. Now there are 70 — with probably 30 kids old enough to toss water balloons and whack a piñata.

Rick Steves’ Best of euRap

Photo courtesy of Justin Glow

I’ve found that the most effective way to annoy our two kids (ages 17 and 20) is to act like someone from their generation. Slang, greetings, gestures…you name it, if I try something from their generation and not mine…look out. It’s tight.

So, when Jackie’s high school radio station asked me to fund the purchase of some of their gear with a donation, in return for an ad on their station, I said, “Sweeeet…on the condition that they help me produce a rap.”

They recorded their voices over the first 30 seconds and left the last 15 seconds for me to finish. I happened to be at my audio-recording studio in Seattle (finishing up a TV show soundtrack) with a cool young engineer who jumped at the chance to coach me and produce my bit on the rap to finish the audio ad. I emailed Jackie’s classmates this track (which I like to think far exceeded their expectations). And now, Jackie’s dad is throwin’ down some sick rhymes several times a day all year long on her high school radio station.

Enjoy the Rick Steves’ Europe rap. Yeeeah, boy.

27 Moroccan Kids Heading for Summer Camp — from Jackie Steves

For my daughter Jackie Steves, Christmas morning had a happy Moroccan connection. I brought home the bundle of letters that readers of this blog sent to her (via my office) over the last month with donation checks to fund sending kids from the town of Sale to summer camp (as inspired by — and proposed at the end of — her high school trip to Morocco Journalfeatured recently on this blog). With her teacher/chaperone, Jackie will be sure these donations get used as intended. Here’s Jackie’s Christmas morning report:

***

It’s Christmas morning. I’m with my family at our house in Edmonds, Washington. I look out the window and there is actually some snow mixed in with the rain! What a magical morning.

I woke up this morning when my brother jumped on me, yelling obnoxiously in my ear, “Merry Christmas, Jackie!” It’s good to have him home from college. In a week he’ll leave to study abroad in Rome for a semester. He’s three years older than me, and up until now I have been the little sister watching him enviously while he has gotten to backpack and be a tour guide all around Europe (without any parents!).

Pretty soon, however, I’ll enjoy similar adventures. After I graduate from high school in June, I’ll travel through Europe with a friend for a month. I’m so excited. When my parents asked me what I would like for Christmas, what immediately came to mind was some seed money for my Europe graduation trip! When that’s what I found under the tree this morning, you can imagine my elation when I thought of how this money would be the wings for some of my travel dreams.

The last present I opened was a manila envelope. Written on the outside in my dad’s handwriting it said, “To Jackie’s friends in Morocco. From Jackie and those she inspired to care and share.” Inside I found 19 envelopes, which contained checks made out to the Sale Town Association in Morocco. Most of the checks were for $31, enough to send a Moroccan child to educational summer camp for two weeks. Many of the checks were for twice or even triple that amount, enough to provide for two or three kids!

Finding those checks and reading all the thoughtful notes that accompanied them was like having Christmas all over again. The best Christmas gift is witnessing the compassion of other people. We always hear from the media about the bad side of humanity: war, greed, and waste. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to read all the kindhearted comments that people posted in response to reading my journal. I never expected so many people to take an interest in what I had to say. Your comments instilled in me confidence, hope, gratitude, and happiness. Receiving these letters and checks has been a huge testimony that a little exchange of cultural insight can have a tremendously positive effect.

The money people donated is enough to send 27 Moroccan children to camp! I am so excited for these kids from the poor city of Sale, some of whom live in slums, to have the opportunity to go to a summer camp by the sea. Thank you so much to all of you who took the time to mail a check. You have truly been an inspiration to me. I will follow through and be sure these kids get to camp and report on things (via this blog) again later.

Have a Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and a wonderful New Year!

Peace, love, and joy,

Jackie