Sunday December 12th. The White House

Children’s nativity play at church.  First time I’ve seen this done with a live baby Jesus, sucking a dummy and attempting to wander offstage now and then.  After church, and yet another post service feed, including pieces of cake to celebrate the ordination of the assistant, we set off for Washington through pouring rain, accompanied by the vast, chunky American articulated lorries (trucks!)  These are much more boxy in appearance than ours, and have gleaming chrome bumpers and about 18 wheels.   One of them had a small sticker on it’s colossal rear bumper – ‘Have you thanked God today?’  Mary Carolyn says that many of the truckers are devout Christians and there is even a church in a truck that drives about and provides church services for them in truck parking lots.

We took Mary Carolyn to a French Restaurant just round the corner from the hotel in Washington – French onion soup, crepes, tolouse sausage, veal and conversation about the American Civel War.  A battle between economic considerations and human rights.  Had Lincoln not been assassinated, perhaps the same result could have been achieved gradually, without so much suffering.

Then we caught the silver subway train into town.  We followed the signs until suddenly there it was, shining white against the darkness.  The White House is a genuinely beautiful building.  It almost seemed to be floating in the dark night sky.  Windows were lit and people moving within – some kind of event seemed to be underway. 

Passing the Treasury building, we made our way round to the front and there was the immense national Christmas Tree, red, white and blue lights cascading down the sides.  Apparently for many years they used a cut tree every Christmas, but then this tree was brought from Colorado and planted here.  Circling the big tree were fifty smaller trees, purple, green and red lights and large transparent balls, each with a nameplate, one for each state.  And around the base of the tree ran lots of model railways with stations and townships to go with them.  Freight trains that whistled that lonely mournful whistle you hear in cowboy movies, a passenger train with lights in all the carriages, and even Thomas the Tank Engine and friends.  Children and adults crowded round to watch them.  In a setting so formal and official, it was lovely to find something so informal and fun.  In the background, the White House glowed behind its fountain.  Glittering in the centre window of the top floor family apartments was the Obamas’ own Christmas Tree.

Back to the hotel via the subway and a walk which was a good deal longer than it need have been and involved dicing with death by ploughing through grass along the central reservation, all because of the American apparent dislike of pavements (sidewalks).  What is the problem with them?  Seems to me this is a false economy. 

And so to bed.  Last time we’ll be in bed for about 48 hours.