w W- - mw w 1w 8B - The Michigan Daily - Thursday, November 4, 2004 Sauto-neurotic|with Alexandra Jones The Michigan C Lost Boy reflects on ordea ELECTION DAY Tuesday, November 2, 2004 10:57 a.m. For the first time ever, I'm on my way to go vote. In order to ensure sufficient time to participate in the democratic process, I'm skipping my 10 a.m. film screening in order to give myself sufficient time to wait in line, argue with volunteers, get into fistfights with Bush supporters during exit polls. I've armed myself with my voter registration card, three backup forms of ID, the new Le Tigre album and a big-ass travel mug of coffee. I feel like an inexo- rable political force as I head over to my polling place, Community High School, only a few blocks away on North Division St. The only remarkable thing I notice is that it's cloudy and cold out; other- wise, people seem to go about their business normally. Almost every student-looking person I pass wears a Kerry pin or sports a "No on 2" sticker on their backpack, and those walking back towards campus wear "I Voted" stickers. Headphones and hoodie in place, about to participate in my first local, state and national election, I push open a door marked "Polling Place." Even as I pass high school students in the halls, I feel uncomfortably young, like maybe the system wasn't made for someone like me. Tuesday, November 2, 2004 11:36 a.m. That's it. I'm done. There was no line, the volunteers found my name on the voter rolls with ease, and amazingly enough, I didn't spill cof- fee on my ballot. I faced off briefly with a younger volunteer who espied a tiny pin on the strap of my bag that features Bush getting hit in the head with a cassette tape and ordered me to remove my "campaign materi- als." Otherwise, everything went off without a hitch. Connect the front of the arrow to the back of the arrow a few times, make sure I got all the questions on both sides, and stand around looking confused. Finally an elderly volunteer tells me to insert my ballot into a slot in an equally elderly-looking machine. Reminds me of Scan-Trons in high school - I suppose the voting process isn't as removed from real life as I thought. As I walk back to campus, I place my "I Voted" sticker above a "John Kerry for President" pin, creating a complete sentence describing what I did today. Tuesday, November 2, 2004 1:32 p.m. I'm on the bus to the grocery store. I've got to use this gray expanse of afternoon to DO something, be active. Although I've got reading and homework to do, and a column to write, I feel a greater sense of agency committing a real action, like purchasing stuff. Besides, all I've got in my pantry is stale Special K and a Tupperware full of pureed pumpkin. Haven't heard any results yet, but I'm still optimistic. While I'm no activist, it'd be difficult to find someone who harbors as much bit- terness and disgust for the Bush administration and its policies as I do. John Kerry isn't perfect, but so many people seem fed up with Bush. The long lines, the unprece- dented turnout of blue-collar voters in swing states - I really think we can win. I want to be able to call up my friends, my parents, and celebrate Kerry's victory with them. I want to be able to feel some kind of power over the slimy creeps who've spent the past four years lying to Ameri- cans and pissing off the rest of the world, I want to feel the weight - because fear and anger are really heavy - go away. Tuesday, November 2, 2004 2:40 p.m. A lot of people seem especially chipper because of the election. The middle-aged woman at the register in Kroger applauds my "patriotism" when she sees my pin. My bank tell- er regales me with the story of how she had to wait in line for an hour at 7:30 a.m. and asks genuinely how my experience went. Maybe it's just me, but I'm feeling a little anxious. Tuesday, November 2, 2004 7:19 p.m. Stuck. Glued to the couch; eyes on the TV. Completely unable to thinkabout anything else. I flip between the networks and the cable channels, looking for the easiest-to- understand graphics of poll data. I settle on CNN, even though there's no news to report. Some old guy just tied Shakespeare's political ideas to the 2004 election. I take a break and switch to the Food Network. Tuesday, November 2, 2004 11:08 p.m. I'm still on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. There are tears in my eyes. Pennsylvania just went to Kerry, but I can already tell it's over. Analysts create potential scenarios, grouping red or blue states together like a puzzle. New Mexico, Oregon, Wisconsin and Ohio could to Kerry. Maine's leftover electoral vote could decide the election. In 2000, such- and-such was a factor. There were still hundreds of peo- ple waiting to vote when the Ohio polls closed a few hours ago. Maybe we'll pull through OK. Wednesday, November 3, 2004 2:39 a.m. NBC has called Ohio for Kerry. They'll continue this bullshit for hours, I know, but it really is over. It was close, but we got shut down, our asses beaten, the shit kicked out of us. We lost. It hurts worse than real bruises and broken bones. Better luck next time, right? By Tian Lee For the Daily LANSING - When he smiled, his face lit up. It reached ear to ear, accompanied with a joyful chuck- le, and the brilliant shade of white from his teeth seemed to enlight- en his face, winning me with his enchanting optimism. It shocked me that a person could smile and laugh with such sincerity. I won- dered about the past experiences he had stirring quietly in his heart that brought that smile to life. Sisimayo Faki Henry was born in Mundri, Sudan. Growing up in Sudan, his country had been savagely terrorized by war for decades. Since the onset of his first memory, he understood little about the corrosive violence and hate that seemed to blanket his child- hood and early adult life. For fears of civil war, the Arab militia from the north had merci- lessly bombed native African vil- lages, marauding and raping the mothers, sisters, aunts and daugh- ters of the southern Sudanese men. Nothing remained but parched lands and burning embers of the hate-filled hearts that had attacked them. The violence of the civil war in Sudan in the mid-1980s was fueled by religious differences between the Muslim Arabs in the north and the Southern Christians in the south. Although Sisimayo's experi- ences in Sudan varies slightly from those of victims of the current humanitarian crisis there, his story remains similar to those suffering in Darfur - currently the world's THE TRUTH IS... TKE INTERINET IS GOOD FOR TWO ThINGS JI-MMyiIJOuI4S~eOM IS THEF OTIIFR ONE. PEl RSCHOTTENFELS/I Sisimayo Faki Henry speaks of the terror that seized Sudan over the last few decades. worst genocide, as it was declared by the United Nations. His story of pain, strength, endurance and hope gives voice to the millions of people who have been silenced in Darfur - those who have been waiting desperately for the world to hear their cries. Sisimayo recognizes that cry well: "I woke up one morning, and the town was being bombed. I was with my brother in one of the rooms, and my mother and siblings were in another room. When I heard the bombs, I ran - and I just kept on running" he recalls. "From the day I was born, until I was didn't understand why the people around me were fighting. I knew it was war, but I didn't know what the war was about." Like an animal being preyed upon, he knew nothing more than to flee - and to flee fast. As he ran, his older brother who was in the room with him at the time of the bombing ran ahead, and the two have never seen each other since. "My brother had run faster, and I lost him. He died from bombing," he said. The remaining eight of his siblings died as well from the bo bardment in his town. The two w survived are currently in a reful camp in Kenya. Orphaned, starving, isolate and tired, Sisimayo ran on foot a month and 13 days east, all 1 way across the country of Sud into neighboring Ethiopia.Sf parents, both of whom had fall victim to disease - one of ma legacies of the war - left a 1 year-old boy with the entire weig of the world resting on his sma young, and fragile shoulders. See REFUGEES, page 9 Contact Alexandra at almajo@umich.edu. a Book your trip now! Subject to change I 'o HTTEHTION U-Il STUDENTS ND FlD CULTY 1eDeiverFood.Net has LOWERED their delivery fee from $4.99 to $2.99 for all V-M Students and Faculty. 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