It’s not ink to paper, but ink to finger

It seemed really well organized. Each ballot box was in a separate classroom with the voters queuing in the corridor outside, many fanning themselves because of the heat.

Just two people in front of me were some of our neighbors. One of them is an older woman who lives on the entrance floor, seems to be interested in everybody’s business and is not very happy. She did not even greet me. My friend offered to help her down the stairs but she snarled a “No, thank you.” In contrast, the sweet neighbor who lives in Germany and had come back to Turkey specifically at this time because she wanted to vote was surprised and elated to see us as foreigners. She did not know that I had dual citizenship.

When it was my turn to enter the room I found myself standing in front of four people. I handed the first official my identity and polling cards. The next person gave me the ballot and envelope. Another person handed me the ink stamp used to mark the party I was endorsing. The fourth person was an invigilator -- he was there to ensure everything went according to procedure and that I put my sealed envelope in the ballot box without any interference. Some were teachers, others different civil servants who had given their Sunday to enable the smooth running of the democratic process in their country.

I made my way to the booth which had cardboard up on three sides to give the elector privacy. This time I was alone -- in 2002 one of the invigilators was concerned that as a foreigner I might need some help and came to stand by me. No problem, I didn’t find her threatening, but I was amused afterwards when I had folded the ballot paper up and sealed the envelope she nodded to me and said, “You made a good choice.”

The ballot could be overwhelming for some -- it was as long as my arm. Since I am used to usually only having a choice of two or three parties, it seemed to have far too many to choose from. I did not take time to study the ballot. I just looked for the party symbol I wanted to endorse and put my stamp there. Later I heard it had 11 parties and 54 independents on it -- an amazing set of 65 circles to choose from. But only one was to get the stamp “EVET” (yes).

I do not know if this is really true, but I saw a TV report that some people in lower educated areas were able to identify which party they had previously decided to give their vote to by holding a piece of string stretched from the end of the page to the end of string. There they put their mark. I thought this idea was clever but feared for them if they had the ballot upside down.

Anyway I was in and out in 15 minutes, sporting a new ink-stain on the index-finger of my left hand. When we knew they were going to tie in voting with our ID numbers this time around we had heard their wouldn’t be any need for this ink, which takes a month or so to wear off. But sadly, we all still have to be marked. Many ladies carried tissues into the polling room so they could wipe their finger as soon as it had been marked, in order to minimize the stain.

 I had enjoyed seeing a very nice and clean state school (they had a banner hanging up outside saying the Education Ministry had given them a White Flag Award for Cleanliness and Hygiene). And the teacher had obviously taken pride in decorating the classroom -- the children’s artwork was everywhere, including on the blackboard.

Election Day has come and gone. A choice has been made. Let’s continue to look to the future and the best for the nation. Let’s learn together what it means to embrace democratic values and live together. It is a delicate balancing act for any nation.