Only in Nepal could walking into the jungle and down a mountain to get to the voting location be considered easy. Women and men with wrinkled skin and nimble limbs have walked for days, and continue down, If my grandparents could walk like this...its unbelievable. We probably dont get such a percent to show up for our elections, all we have to do is go around the corner. Freedom certainly is exhilirating, expecially when you walk a little further for it.
It is incredible to see the younger men explaining to the elder how to fill our the pictorial ballot ( a large percentage of the population is illiterate); one woman didnt understand that she needs to keep her paper inside the ballot box so people dont see ,and wanted them to show her how to fill it out. First they go and get their thumbs marked with a permanent ink so that they cannot come more than once (this is also used as an ID card, since nodoby has any form of ID).Then they go and fill out the blue form for the person, and the punk for the party. No wonder if it confusing though--- there are 54 parties to choose from. Thats a lot of political symbols!
We are at the bottom of the hill, the mountain of green above, flowered with reds and blues of people making their way over. The rocks have been worn down to suitable stairs over years of use. all culminating for the important usability of this great day.
Female police with bamboo sticks and male soldeirs in camouflage with guns slung on their backs.
Women have a much more active public role than i thought, then again we are not in the middle east, but in the far part of another world. The scene behind me looks like a red sea of women in saris, with nose rings and tikas. men in line with the traditional topi, nepali hat. The line seems to be flowing and their order working well enough. it takes all of the older people, even some of the younger, a few tries before their figure out (or are showed) how to put the stamp on the ink-- they pick it up and look at it for a moment, triwling it around mystified. This mark is the swasticka which willl claim the future of the country, chosen by the people (even if it is some of the same people more than once).
AT 5pm, when nobody had really showed up for two hours, they began to close the polls. Some forms were put in a canvas bag and a candle was lit to seal the bag with wax. We were explained that this was how they seal all official documents in Nepal, and we sat amazed, thinking this mehod had stopped a centuy ago. Slings were made to carry the heavy ballot boxes on their heads for the vertical climb back up the mountain. When everything was cleared away and no evidence remained of the miraculous events of the day, it again became just another piece of land covered with garbage. And then we were on our way, a parade of observers, lingering voters, party representatives, and spectators along for the fun of it.
This is what you call Shades of Green and a Taste of Something like Freedom with Chili Peppers...
