كنت قبل عامين كنت فى حوار طاحن فى موقع بالانجليزى مع بعض اليهود .. موقع كانوا يسموه موقع الحوار الفلسطينى الاسرائيلى .. وقد تم طردى من الموقع كالعادة

قبل قليل كنت اقرا حواراتهم فى الموقع الذى اصبح فقط حوار بين اليهود فقد هجره كل الفلسطينيين بعد طردى.. ما اثار ذهولى ان هناك رجل اسمه افرايم يهودى متطرف جدا و مستوطن فى مستوطنات غزة وهو يصف كيف انه كان يراقب الانتخابات العراقية فى الاردن وهو يقول كمراقب للانتخابات

I am back home and rather than give a blow by blow description of my observer experience, I would just like to relay a few images that come to mind as I think back on the last few days.

First there is the overall impression of how seriously the staffs at the various polling stations took their jobs. The rule was that the voter him or herself had to place the ballot in the ballot box. At the first station the woman who was in charge of the ballot box also had to check that the ballots were properly stamped. She asked each voter to show the stamps on the back of the folded ballots. One voter unfolded the ballot partially revealing the front and the woman actually shielded her eyes with her hands while she told the voter to refold his ballot. Another voter tried to hand her his ballot to put in the box and she quickly put her own hands behind her so as not to touch the ballot.

Then there was the dignity displayed by the voters as they entered the polling station and took part in the process. They absolutely radiated with their feeling of being a part of an important event.

At a polling station we observed in Irbid, a woman in traditional clothes (many of the women were dressed in modern western style) quietly entered the room and went through the procedures of checking that her name was registered, getting her finger inked, receiving her ballot, voting and then placing the ballot in the ballot box. On her way out she stopped, turned around and said something with quiet emotion in Arabic to the polling station's staff. I heard "inch Allah" a few times and then she left with tears in her eyes. I asked the head of the polling station who was sitting next to me what it was all about and he replied, with his voice breaking, "It seems that she lost several family members during Saddam's regime."

On the last day at 5:00 PM when the voting stations closed, we found ourselves at a station in one of the more wealthy sections of Amman. About 20 minutes after the polls closed there were some raised voices from the hallway outside of the room. A woman was pleading with members of the staff that she wanted to vote. It turned out that not only had she arrived after the station closed but she had not registered to vote. It seemed that she had been too frightened to register or vote but now realized that she wanted to take part in the election. For her it was too late.

I met many people during these few days. Some were Iraqis, some Jordanians and some from other nations. The two that come to mind were on the last morning in Jordan and neither one had anything to do with the elections. The first was a German fellow who was staying in my hotel and who I met that morning at breakfast. He informed me with great enthusiasm that the elections were an American Hollywood stunt to fool the world but that 90 percent of the world saw through it. The Arabs were not made for democracy. He said that everyone knows that the Arabs need a strong leader who will keep everything under control. I thought that this was ironic coming from a German. I asked him what he did back in Germany. He said that he didn't live in Germany. For the past 27 years he has worked in Saudi Arabia.

The other encounter was at the bus station in Amman where I waited for my bus back to the border. It was a small station and the clerk kept on refering to me as "Efraim to Tel Aviv". I can't say that I remained absolutely calm as he did this several times. But finally the bus pulled into the station (a half hour late) and he called out "Efraim to Tel Aviv" and pointed to the bus. There was a young Jordanian policeman on duty at the bus station. I went out and put my suitcase in the luggage compartment of the bus. When I turned around there was the policeman standing right there. With perhaps all of the English that he knew he said "Efraim to Tel Aviv, welcome to Amman" with a big smile on his face. We shook hands warmly and then I got onto the bus to go home.