Shepherd's Bush Market, just north of my ex-pat home in Hammersmith, West London is a souk roughly six blocks long. There, anyone indifferent to the comfort and convenience of well- organized food aisles, shrink-wrapped produce, and orderly check out, can purchase anything from fresh fruit and exotic herbs to negligees (up to size XXXL) and sequin trimmed harem pants.
You can buy rice in bulk, goat meat, needles and thread, flowers (fresh or fake), and fish that are familiar only to the homesick Jamaicans who join the displaced Somalis, Afghans, Eritreans, Bangladeshi and others who patronize the stalls staffed by their more established countrymen.
It can be disorienting to be in this part of London, where very little indicates where in the world you are.
I come several times a month because there's one stall I can count on for ingredients I can't find anywhere else. But last week, when I went for mangoes, papaya and curry leaves, I came away with those items, and much more.
While he was weighing my produce, the stall owner asked whether I've been busy these days. It was meant to be idle chatter perhaps, and I replied, "I'll be busy until the US elections are over."
He turned away from the scales and let his glasses slide to the end of his nose. Peering at me over the rims, he looked me in the eye. "Is that so."
It was a challenge to show my colors. I went for it. "Yes" I said. "It's an ugly fight. We have to defeat him."
"Trump," he said, affirming the identity of the "him" in question.
"Yes," I said.
And what followed was the most astonishing conversation I've had since the campaigns got underway—not just for the souk-like setting where it occurred, but for the depth of this man's familiarity with the nature of the race and the implications for America and the world.
He had recorded the last debate and watched it all the way through. He recalled to me moments from it, citing verbatim some of Trump's more outlandish comments, and Hillary Clinton's more inspired retorts.
This man who has all he can do to sustain a business in a London market slated for demolition and redevelopment feels a great enough stake in the US elections to steep himself in the thrust and parry to the extent that he can hold his own in discussing it with someone—myself-- whose interest is vital and immediate.
Twenty minutes after he started weighing up my order, he handed my goods to me, and said, "October 19th!". And I came away marveling at the investment he'd made in our election, down to knowing when the next debate would take place.
And then it clicked.
For him, this is not about the nuances of policy—whether the US will or will not confront Climate change, or income disparity or even Vladimir Putin. It's about humanity.
In case I've failed to mention, this man is so soft spoken, that to hear his critique of Trump, I had to lean forward and listen at full attention.
He has a grace that has survived violent upheaval in his own country, followed by foul corruption that forced him to emigrate and raise his family abroad. He became British and active in local politics. Then after years of relative civility between the parties and among the people of Great Britain, he sees the triumph of nativists who've declared open season on "foreigners," be they Poles, Syrians, or indeed Bangladeshi stall holders contributing to the fabric of a nation that has benefited so much from its rich engagement with the world.
He has seen the Trumps prevail—he hears in Trump the echoes of the tyrants in is home country, in the Brexit debate, in the campaigns underway in France, Hungary, Poland and Denmark.
Clearly, this man, a stall-keeper in a souk in the UK, sees the US as Lincoln did: The Last Great Hope On Earth.
Peering sternly over his glasses at me was his way of conveying that it is on us—American voters-- to ensure the US survives as such, not just for us, but for good people of good will all over the world.
Hillary 2016. Vote early. Vote.
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October 2016
Twenty minutes after he started weighing up my order, he handed my goods to me, and said, "October 19th!". And I came away marveling at the investment he'd made in our election, down to knowing when the next debate would take place.
. He has a grace that has survived violent upheaval in his own country, followed by foul corruption that forced him to emigrate and raise his family abroad. He became British and active in local politics.
He has seen the Trumps prevail—he hears in Trump the echoes of the tyrants in his home country, in the Brexit debate, in the campaigns underway in France, Hungary, Poland and Denmark.
Clearly, he sees the
