The Orange Tchador: When Lebanon votes

I woke up in the morning, looked around me, everything seemed so real…

Is it really Sunday June 7?

Wow! At last the glorious Sunday that we have been waiting for…

Do you think I have the time to take a shower, to have breakfast, to put my head over my shoulder?

Shouldn’t I be rushing to the polling station…to save the country from the orange tchadors?

Oh no! The commentator on the television is warning: Lebanon as you know it might not exist anymore go do your civic duty…go vote…Vote…VOte…VOTe… VOTE…

It doesn’t matter if I smell bad …I need to rescue the country…

I put on my clothes…but haha I made sure I am not wearing anything orange or yellow or green…

Blue was is and always will be my favorite colour…

The rescue team (my husband, my mother-in-law and I) –The blue Team-was on its way…

In the car, we kept on listening to our favorite CD: We will never let Iran control us…
we couldn’t stop listening to it…

Maybe if we stopped running the CD, we would have forgotten to whom to vote…

Maybe it might have crossed our minds to vote for General Michel Aoun…

Oh no! Even mentioning his name could make us lose the Lebanon we know…I put the volume up…

So again I start seeing the blue sky all over Lebanon…

We arrive to the polling station…my heart is beating…my hands are shaking…

Everybody is staring at me…

Don’t even think of changing your mind…

We can read your thoughts…These are crucial times…don’t think of reform and change…don’t review anything…Look behind you Hezbollah is chasing you with the tchador…

I looked in front of me I saw Obama, Moubarak, King Abdallah of KSA, the good people in Lebanon calling me to join them…to rescue the country…

I entered the room…I voted…I dipped my thumb into the ink…I got out of the room…proud…

Back home…I switched on the TV…I heard what I didn’t want to hear…

Even though I saved the country…they didn’t want to forget that I was Armenian…