Global Adventures.

    My host father would turn on the small, old television downstairs reserved only for Tunisian programming in the evenings throughout October to listen to candidates from over forty parties. Two hours each evening was the slot, but my host father usually turned it off within a few minutes. “They don’t know how to speak!” he would tell me, pointing out how most of them read straight from their papers. Unable to understand Arabic, I could only rely on what my host parents told me—which wasn’t much, as “it’s all quite boring”.

    Besides these flags, bulletins, and ten-minute television clips, I did not feel the atmosphere of elections as much as I believed I would throughout the month of campaigning. However, on October 25th (a day before Election Day) I woke up to a feeling that I can only describe as anxiety. My host parents were skyping with family abroad, discussing the process of voting for Tunisians living outside of the country—their polls commenced on the 24th. Already, the elections seemed to be marred with some difficulties as I overheard worried discussions---“Were the polling stations open? Is it too far? Do you think you will be able to get in your vote?”

   Walking into the city, it seemed like the numerous Tunisian flags waved with a brighter hue as people murmured nervously about the all-too-near elections. Posters had gone up on walls explaining the voting process—where to go, what to have with you, the works. Pamphlets of various parties were left on doorsteps and some citizens stood by the walls displaying the parties and their candidates, still trying to decide who should get their vote.

     In the evening, I sat quietly between my host parents as they discussed all they needed to know for the day ahead. My host father turned his computer screen towards me to display a sample ballot, explaining all of the parties and their symbols as well as how it would be easy to confuse certain parties due to similar names and/or their insignia. Seeing dozens of parties on a ballot was slightly baffling, to say the least—to know that people had to decide between all of them was another matter. Despite two parties having taken the lead when it came to supporters—secular Nidaa Tounes and moderate Islamists Ennahda—I was eager to see how the other parties would fare in comparison.

October 26th: Election Day.

     I woke early to try and accompany my host parents to the polls.Unfortunately, they had already gotten to the station before they even opened.Fortunately, my host mother took me back with her so I could see the lines of people waiting to vote.

     Most polling stations were located at schools, with one down the street from where we live. Entering the schoolyard, my eyes landed on a young girl: one hand held onto her father’s while she stared at the other hand in admiration. Her finger had been dyed blue, either by touching the finger of one of her parents or having a kind staff member allow her to dip her finger in the ink (when voting here, your index finger is marked with a blue henna dye). Looking around, I saw several children accompanying their parents to the polls, and I could not help but wonder if this would help instill a love for voting in the generation to come. In a nation where the youth have lost faith in the government and grown apathetic to voting, perhaps it is necessary for parents to teach their children from a young age that their vote does count. 

     Upon returning home, I opened my Facebook and Twitter feeds. I had followed several Tunisian bloggers and activists and was curious to see the discourse of elections on social media. I was not disappointed: pictures from all over the country were being uploaded, whether it was of the lines outside the polling stations or people proudly showing off their dyed fingers to announce that they had voted. One photo in particular showed a groom and bride dressed in their wedding best at the polls! A second photo showed another bride in an elegant white wedding gown submitting her ballot, proudly stating that her wedding day would not take away her vote. The users I followed also noted the number of children accompanying their parents to the polls which instilled a new sense of hope for the future of the country.

    On a less positive note, some discussed problems at certain polling stations---“It still isn’t open. A woman just left because she has to go to work. Where is the staff?” Updates such as these indicated that the elections were not going as smoothly as hoped, which hampered the “get out and vote” message. Regardless, citizens still waited and stayed optimistic that it would all work out in the end.

    Not wanting to only witness the excitement behind a screen, I had decided to meet some of the other students in La Marsa to soak in the atmosphere. The initial fervor of elections had dimmed as afternoon rolled around, with the majority of voters having done their duty in the morning hours. Still, I turned a street to be passed by several fellow youth flying large Tunisian flags outside of their car, honking away in a form of celebration. The cafes were bustling with patrons, many who sported blue fingers as they sipped on mint tea.

     The day winded down and I returned home, my eyes glued now to my Twitter feed to read all the updates: “Polls still open in the United States and Canada”, “Counting of votes has begun”, “This percentage of the population has voted so far”. Statistics were being released every few minutes, though the legitimacy of such numbers were questionable. I had to give in to the fact that results would not be known for days and that I had to prepare for our excursion to the South the following day. Sleep did not come easy as I could only focus on what the people were saying, how they were responding, and what the results would be in the end.

      Projections became true: Nidaa Tounes won plurality of seats in the Legislative Assembly, with Ennahda close behind. On Monday night we passed a parade of celebration---the sound of honking horns and singing along with the sight of red flags waving in the air. Shouts of congratulations on the phone along with eager smiles around were a welcome sight as we continued throughout the South. It had been a successful election—not necessarily because of who won or lost, but simply because it happened.

     However, dismal numbers of turnout were circulated--only 61.8% of the registered population voted, a low number for a new democracy. The city where the revolution all began, Sidi Bouzid, had the lowest turnout. What did it mean when those who rebelled against the previous regime now also had lost faith in any new government? It's an observation to certainly take into account when analyzing Tunisia's transition to democracy. There are problems to be fixed and number of criticisms to acknowledge as this nation continues on its path to form a democratic culture.

     What does the future hold for Tunisia? Only Tunisians can answer this as they now enter the campaigning period of the presidential elections. Will the birthplace of the Arab Spring turn into another muddled democracy or will it emerge truly successful at the end of its transition? As a nation that started the transition process by demand of the people, it will take time. Tunisians and the world must have patience as the country continues into an uncertain future.