Election Day 2009: poll observer, though not a citizen

I don't have an Israeli ID card. But I can affect an Israeli accent and a nice smile, and I think that's how I come into many opportunities. That's basically how I got to observe the polling station at the grade school on Kovshei Katamon in Jerusalem during the national elections this week.

I volunteered for the new Green/Modern Religious party on election day. The party, called Hayerukah Meimad, was recently formed on a platform of social ecology, wih a focus on education, social programs, and renewable energy. It's nearly as left of center as Meretz, and I became interested in it for a few reasons--I knew several of the candidates running on their ticket (who are leading environmentalists in Israel), the party includes secular and religious Israelis working together, they prioritize social and environmental issues, and, at least in Jerusalem, they seemed to have a blast of youthful energy going into this election.

I arrived at the school at 8am, wearing my party t-shirt, and ready to pass out fliers. I stood 10 meters from the entrance to the school entrance, as prescribed by the law, in front of an Al-Jazeera news truck, whose team I got to watch and interact with all morning.

Their team included a British reporter, and a bilingual team, including one whose first language was clearly Arabic. They didn't do much, except describe how election campaigning had been "lackluster" and interview two good-looking voters. They wanted to interview me in English, but I was honest and told them I didn't have a vote. Gil Hoffman, the editor of the Jerusalem Post, ran onto the scene for a quick interview.

In contrast, a Brazilian news team went inside the fence surrounding the school, and interviewed many voters. They were less concerned with their appearances, but then, I guess Al-Jazeera has a lot more viewers.

On the day of elections, each party has the right to enter the polling place and observe to make sure nothing fishy is going on. I had an official permission slip from my party, so they let me through security. The poll workers seemed mostly to be high school students. They wore Adidas sweats, red boots, chatted on their cell phones, and smiled at everyone. I told them I didn't have an Israeli ID number in my best Hebrew, and they asked me to stand aside while they checked.

They said I was fine. I signed my entrance and exit times. In the meantime, I pulled up a chair and watched. Elderly husbands and wives stroll into the grade schoool gym, arm in arm. A mother photographs her three boys, all in blue sweatsuits, in front of the blue voting stall. The stall is embossed with the national seal: a silver menorah on a cobalt background, adn beneath it, also in silver, the word, "Israel." People are told to put their ballots in envelopes, but not to seal them, and then to slip them into what looks like the official blue "Israel" shoebox.

I spoke with a lot of people on the sidewalk that day. A lot of people yelled at me for not merging HaYerukah Meimad with Aleh Yarok, the legalize marijiuana party, and Yerukah, the standard Green Party. People yelled at me because Hayerukah Meimad was a party with religious candidates that supported the separation of religion and state, as opposed to legally mandating shabbat closures of businesses. Others smiled and told me they were voting for our party. I got to see a lot of people who live in my neighborhood, and go everywhere by car, so I never see them on the street. Volunteers from party headquarters delivered hot cider in compostable cups, since the weather was cold and rainy.

A few days later, it seems that the results of the good omen of rain on Election Day are not yet apparent. Where there was excitement before the election, especially in light of Obama being elected in the US, now there is a deflated feeling of everything going right back to stagnant normal. But I am clinging to my optimism, and hoping that rainy Election Day was truly a good omen, even if we can't tell quite yet.