I WAS THERE

Waw... Wednesday was, without doubt, the longest day of my life. I've learnt so much. I've learnt so much about the "insides". The people. The country. The me. Who runs the place and how. I think I've actually changed. I feel somwhat Enlightened. Wiser. Happy. Loving. Fullfilled. YES! That's the word! Fullfilled! And I am so into this. This is me man. I felt so in my element. Doing the good. Doing the right. Not eating for 15 hours and a half so I won't miss a minute of monitoring. Not being able to sleep the day before. Being free and making sure the others were just as free. Meeting "them". The "other" 80% of the population. Striking up random friendships out of nowhere with people I will never meet again. Having a high-school boy taking me to the side after watching me monitor and telling me who pays whom and how much to get people to vote. Being told by a random voter: "I want to help you" after knowing that I was monitoring the elections to make sure voting is fair. Being asked by a bunch of labourers for my number "in case they harm us because we were not able to vote". That tore my heart up. Being approached at the end of the day by a member of the committee that I was monitoring requesting to join the organization. I know I must sound crazy. Oh and talking about crazy, my apologies for the "My Version of Animal Farm" post. I read it again and I doubt if anyone understood a word without understanding beforehand what the hell I was trying to talk about. I was pissed and I just let out whatever thoughts were inside. Anyway it was natural and I'll leave it. Back to today's issue.

There is SOOO much to talk about I hardly know where to start. I was monitoring a secondary committee in "Nady El-Sekka El-Hadeed" (literaly translated to "The Railroad Club") in Nasr City in Cairo. The were actually 3 committees in the club. 2 on the 1st floor and 1 on the ground floor. I got the ground floor which was called "Committee 5". All voters registered to vote in "Committee 5" were from a poor area called "Ezzbet El-Arab". I got a chance to talk to them. Why are they here? I got into some hot political debates with one of them. I got some "inside" information from another. Hell I got to see Mostapha el Salab (one of the richest and influential men in the area, a member of parliament, and a member of the NDP) vote. Saw some funny things and heard funnier things. But above all.... I WAS THERE. And it felt so darn good.

This brings me to another issue. Why was I monitoring? Believe me the answer is not quite simple. I know it. It lies somewhere deep within the complexities of me. But I just can't put a finger on it.

Alaa has added a magnificent post saluting the monitors and protestors who have changed inside since this all began on referendum day. I believe that he and others share with me this same hidden magical inner urge. This inner thirst. This addiction. And I have to thank him too. It was, after all, through his help, nomatter how small, that I can proudly say: I WAS THERE.

.I.WAS.THERE.