Spending half a day at the COMELEC Office

Two months ago, the Commission on Elections (COMELEC) satellite registration visited our barangay, Brgy. Cabantian, for five straight days. On the last day, I went to the gymnasium of the Cabantian Elementary School, where the COMELEC held office.

My brother and sister and mother, having gone to the gym, advised me to go there early to beat the crowd. By 6 in the morning I went there, only to find out about 25 more people were already waiting. Like them, I waited for two hours, stood in the heat of the sun, and went home still unregistered.

My mother berated me. "Kana dugayan man gud," she said. "Tan-awa, wala na hinuon ka narehistro."

Months later, she would still prod me to go and register.

Having had enough of my mother's ire and having realized lately that it's time to take my duties to my country seriously, I sent a note yesterday to my online friends that I'd be going to the COMELEC office at Magsaysay Park today. I then told my mother of my plan when I arrived home at night.

Did I go?

Well, I did go to the COMELEC this morning and everything went according to my plan: I woke up at 5. I drank a cup of coffee, took a bath, dressed up--all in 15 minutes. Then leave.

After I left, this is what happened:

Around 6:30 AM


When I reached the COMELEC office, I saw a woman writing down something. I walked towards her and discreetly looked down at what she's writing.

"Unsa na, te?" I asked the woman.

The woman raised her head and looked at me and said, "Priority list para kung kinsa kadtong nauna, maprioritize."

Thinking it would help hasten my registration, I wrote my name when the woman finished writing her and her friend's name. I was the 42nd person on the list. Many others followed suit.

8:00 AM

A bespectacled old woman arrived. I knew she was a COMELEC official because she's wearing a violet vest with a COMELEC logo on the back. Then another official, a male, arrived and both of them entered the office.

"Manglimpyo sa mi," the male official said when he saw that the people started falling in line in front of the office.

After five minutes I think, he got out of the office and said, "O, pag-linya na mo."

We fell in line, but those who arrived much earlier objected after seeing those who arrived late cutting in.

"Dapat gamiton ang priority list para dili unfair sa mga mas sayo nangabot," one woman said. "Unsaon na lang tong sayo nangabot pero hinay sa dinutdotay?"

"Bitaw, bitaw," said another.

The male official yielded.

"Sige, sige, kung gusto ninyo gamiton nang listahan, gamita. Basta paglinya lang mo kay magbutang mi ug lamesa dira," he said, pointing to one corner.

When the manner of queueing was settled, the queue almost reached the skating rink. I was, however, lucky to have not suffered the fate of those who were at the end of the line. Who would have thought that I made the right decision by writing my name on the list?

For a while everything went normal, but later the people started complaining. Again? One old woman was fulminating over the COMELEC's lack of order and system.

"Nganong palinyahon pa man ko nila?" said the irate old woman. "Magpavalidate lang man ko sa akong registration."

Yet I was too determined to be registered to care for the woman's concern anymore. When I received the application form, I immediately filled it out and gave it to the male official who stood by the door, keeping watch against the sly.

And then the long wait, my long wait, began.

12:00 Noon

It was already past twelve noon when the male official called out my name.

"Arben Ortizzzz," he said. "Sulod na."

I entered the air-conditioned office and thought that, at long last, I would be a registered voter.

But I think I could have entered the office much earlier had it not been for some people who arrived late and yet wanted to be registered early. I've seen at least two of them---one is a stocky man who presented himself as a member of the military; the other one is a harelip man who, despite his slight physical defect, was very loquacious.

Nevertheless, I finally am a registered voter and, being one, I will now have one more reason to closely watch the actions of the candidates to public offices, be they local or national.

And for those who are not yet registered, if you want to, bring with you a shitload of patience. For the COMELEC voter's registration is, as one blogger put it, really "a test of patience."