10.8.8 Election day

Election day is perfect for a drive because all cars are banned from the streets. It’s less than perfect if you’re heading to a meet friends in a bar because groups are not allowed to congregate and alcohol sales are prohibited. Patricio and I were out with an official licence to monitor the recall referendum of President Evo Morales and the nine prefects (county heads).

We drove up to the hill from La Paz to the Alti Plano as the sun was burning off the cloud in the city valley. Unlike my experiences in the UK, the benches outside our first polling station were not for informal polling by reps of the local parties chummily sharing bum space, but for snack sellers. There would be no opposition representatives here, not without there being problems at least. MAS (the government party) were going to win anyway.

On the door to the schoolyard, which was playing polling station for the day, were MAS posters of the voting card with big ticks representing where to place your support. The cards are in Spanish, which was difficult for those older indigenous people who don’t speak the language or can’t read anyway. Patricio saw one old lady confirming with the voting administrator where she should place her ticks. Yes, Evo. No, Prefect.

Voting is required by law here, but the threat of sanctions did not seem necessary. The low sun cast long shadows in the dusty schoolyard as the people queued patiently waiting for voting to start. Bolivia has only been a democracy for 20 years and people take their enfranchisement seriously. Here they are MAS supporters and wanted to back their man.

On the desk at the front was a pot of indelible ink so the illiterate could use thumbprints to vote and everyone stained a fingertip to prevent them from voting again elsewhere. The actual placing of ticks is a serious act and the classrooms where it took place were guarded by stony-faced cholitas to ensure absolute secrecy.

Outside the social side opened up with food market stalls offering a range of delights knocked up on the spot, not all of it deep fried. Between polling stations, the roads were full of people making their way to vote. With no cars allowed it was a choice between walking and cycling. We went past one old chap hobbling painfully to fulfil his democratic duty and support Evo.