Some thoughts from Precinct 0440A

I consider myself fortunate that my polling place at UA&P is just a five-minute walk away. My friend Crystal and I decided to go early together to vote.

By 630am, we were out of the building. The area designated for the polls was the covered basketball court. Four clustered precincts in makeshift classrooms. It was not difficult to find our names. Just a few "nagpakaduling saglit" moments.

There were around 15 monobloc seats allotted for each cluster where voters can sit and wait. When those are already occupied, people have to stand and wait in queue. By the time I fell in line, I was one of those right behind the monobloc chairs, part of the next group to have seats after the next move.

Presidential candidate Nicolas Perlas walked in with his son, presumably. Not a lot of fanfare. A few TV crew crowded to get a shot of him while he checked for his name in the board. Perlas seemed like a decent, dignified-looking man. What was impressive is that he fell in line, along with the others. In fact, he was right behind Crystal and he tried to help keep the line orderly.

Another sidenote, TV personality Drew Arellano loitered around the court. He was interviewed nearby and joked around with the crowd.

The overall atmosphere of the precinct was friendly. There was a sense of community as most of the poll-watchers knew the voters. It was easy for them to appeal for organized queues and for patience. A fellow voter on my side struck a conversation with me. She thought I was an online reporter because I kept glued to my Twitter account on my phone while waiting for the queue to progress. I was intently checking for news and updates.

When it was our batch's turn to go inside the precinct, it was efficient. I gave my name, my precinct number, my voter number. The officer found my name, I showed my ID, I made the thumbmark and I was given a ballot. I was careful to wipe off any residual ink on my thumb with wet tissues before taking the ballot.

I was then asked to take a table which was also partly used by the BEIs. There was a bottle of ink on the table and I took measured movements to keep everything clean. I took out a face-towel and dried my hands and arms before I started to shade. I was concerned about the marker's ink absorbing through the other side of the paper. Anyway, having a codigo is very useful. I was done in four minutes.

And now, the close encounter with the infamous PCOS machine. It was an unassuming piece of machinery. Looked like a photocopier. I wanted to make a joke and ask it, "How's the family? CF card configured ok?" Anyway, I inserted my ballot, a few seconds later the little digital screen indicated that all was ok. Hallelujah.

Some guy dropped a generous amount of indelible ink on my forefinger. Another thumbmark and signature. I asked if there was anything else, the BEI smiled at me and said that was it. I thanked them and left the precinct.

The BEIs at our polling place were polite, competent, helpful, and very patient. I know the COMELEC has gotten a lot of bad rep for the number of fumbling incidents involving the automation. Sure, I continue to have my hesitations if they can pull it off, but I prefer to give them the benefit of the doubt. I choose look at them as growing pains. It's a tough job. They have to take pressures from the electorate, the candidates, the media. For whatever it's worth, I think Comm. Gregorio Larrazabal and Dir. James Jimenez are sincerely doing their best.

When we left UA&P, the queues were almost at the gate exit already. But it seemed tolerable to everyone. It was around half past 8 when we finished. Which was not terribly bad, I think, for exercising a right as important as voting.

Just a final piece of my mind on this election. I found myself saddened at some display of intolerance of opinion, especially online. I like it when voters are passionate about their candidates and try to convince the others of their choice's qualifications and share their achievements. I like it because it helps me decide. It's the mudslinging I can't stand. The condescension towards other people who do not share your opinion. It's a democracy. We have our own set of values. What is most important to you may not be most important to me. And that doesn't make any of us less. We're just different and that's ok.

We have to understand that we have to eventually heal the divisiveness that the campaign period has wreaked. We still have to all work together whoever wins and I don't think it's very productive to start off with antagonism. Enough of the mudslinging, please. I would have thought everyone else was fed up with it by now.

On that note, I don't care much who you vote for. Just please, please go out and vote.

Mothers' Day

When I was in preschool, my mother used to hold teaching sessions for me and my sister in the afternoons. Actually, it was more of a monitored playtime where we would answer puzzles from activity books - spot the difference, connect the dots, mazes. Sometimes, she would ask us to learn nursery rhymes or short poems. And then, she would read us stories before nap time.

My favorite was the stories with dogs. It had stories about anthropomorphized puppies with titles like "Bernie, the Chilly St. Bernard" or "The Puppy with the Mischievous Wink". There was also the book about fairies. I still remember the one about the pixie who always made the boy late for school everyday. Or the one of the "tiniest of the tiny fairies" - I was so distressed when she left home in fairyland to go to the beach. My mother would read the dialogues with character voices and dramatic facial expressions.

Of course, I had to interrupt often to ask the meaning of some of the words. Mama answered each question. Eventually, she taught me to take out the big red dictionary off the shelf and use it to check each word myself. When I was nine, she bought me a pocket dictionary which she told me to keep near when I read.

I must have been annoying child, I realize now. I interrupted story time. I ran around when she asked us to read out loud. I did not want to take my naps. Just to name a few.

But thank God for mothers and their patience. I was never reprimanded for asking questions. And I will always be grateful that she equipped me for finding the answers myself. I may not have her with me anymore, but I have a lot of other things to keep.

This will be a yearly favor that I will ask from you all. Please give your mothers a hug for me. Thanks.