Elections (Photos Added)

There were technical problems in all five polling centers where I observed: people inked the wrong finger; workers did not check for ink; voting cards were not punched; police were too close to the polling center, etc. In the districts, many polling centers ran out of ballots, which a representative to of the National Elections Commission described as an “emergency situation.”

I start with that because what I want to write is that the election felt like a success. More accurately, it had all the uplifting, cinematic elements that an election in a young democracy is supposed to have: fresh-faced Timorese observers studiously double checking if the ballot boxes are empty; voters holding up their inked index fingers as they exit the polls; an elections worker in Vila Verde insisting on reading loudly and clearly the candidates’ full names on over 900 ballots during the counting process.

Candidato Jose Ramos-Horta. Candidato Francisco Xavier do Amaral. Candidato Francisco ‘Lu Olo’ Guterres.

And it was exciting. The power died frequently yesterday, and by 7:30 pm the streets were pitch black and all the stars were out. My last task of the day was to collect our staff and drop them home. One guy was (supposed) to be observing in the large school by the airport. At around 8 pm I rolled into the school’s large courtyard to see that the only spot of light was at the far eastern end.

I parked and walked through the darkness to where the light from the Portuguese soldiers' SUV illuminated a classroom. In the abandoned schoolyard, a dozen or so men sat in loose circles and GNR talked quietly on glowing mobile phones.

The schoolroom was packed – people inside pressed against the counting table, and outside of the room young men pushed each other to see through the broken windows, periodically breaking out into cheers of “Viva Lu’Olo.” Inside, two battery-powered lanterns, about the size of coke cans, lit the growing tally sheets and the faces of those pressing close to see. When it finally came time for the totals, the tense crowd deferred to two Portuguese soldiers and a small Timorese woman to do the sums.

After the counting finished, I waited a while longer for our guy and chatted briefly with poll workers as they waited to transport the ballots. I had started at 5 am, and was ready to sleep, ready to take a rest from speaking and translating Tetum. At 8:30 pm, exhausted, I went back home.

I suppose that those of us who have been working on elections are biased: either unsatified with any irregularity or, like me, perhaps too willing to celebrate the exercise.

So, in the end, the election felt good. Not because they were flawless and not because I suddenly believe that democratic elections solve everything, but because those clichés are affecting. There is something – technical perfection and outcomes aside – that is fundamentally hopeful: yesterday, over half the population of a pissant country chose optimism and got in line.


Photos: Father Martinho of CNE leading a press conference at the Elections Media Center next to the UN headquarters.