Riverbend is back:

[elehhhhna]

We’re hearing about various strange happenings at different voting areas. They say that several areas in northern Iraq (some Assyrian and other Christian areas) weren’t allowed to vote. They also say that 300 different ballot boxes from all over the country were disqualified (mainly from Mosul) because a large number of the vote ballots had “Saddam” written on them. In other areas there’s talk of Badir’s Brigade people having bought the ballots to vote, and while the people of Falloojeh weren’t allowed to vote, people say that the identities of Falloojans were temporarily ‘borrowed’ for voting purposes. The stories are endless.

More:
http://riverbendblog.blogspot.com/

[emc]

1. I read it this morning

Dosent come across as very promising----you hear all the crap that the administration is putting out---great elections, the country is a true democratic society--etc. ---but then you read river bend and other stuff, and it seems that the opinion is turning ----I really dont know what to believe anymore----I guess you have to take everything with salt----this is bullshit---no one seems to know whats going on------------and the American people dont give a shit---too involved with wife swap and f--ked up housewives.

[Palacsinta]

2. Thanks!

I've been checking a couple of times a week. Interesting about the "Saddam" votes. Don't recall reading about them in MSM.............or a lot of other things Riverbend mentions.Surprise, surprise.

[leesa]

3. Write-ins aren't allowed? Sounds like San Diego.

[Ms. Clio]

4. And looks like things are getting worse for Iraqi women

This entry demonstrates exactly how individual women experience the degeneration of their social status and personal identity in a patriarchal society. I feel so bad for her.

From Riverbend:

We headed for the building containing the ministry employees (but hardly ever containing the minister). It was small and cramped. Every 8 employees were stuck in the same room. The air was tense and heavy. We were greeted in the reception area by a bearded man who scanned us disapprovingly. “Da’awachi,” my cousin whispered under his breath, indicating the man was from the Da’awa Party. What could he do for us? Who did we want? We wanted to have some documents legalized by the ministry, I said loudly, trying to cover up my nervousness. He looked at me momentarily and then turned to the cousin pointedly. My cousin repeated why we were there and asked for directions. We were told to go to one of the rooms on the same floor and begin there.

“Please dress appropriately next time you come here.” The man said to me. I looked down at what I was wearing- black pants, a beige high-necked sweater and a knee-length black coat. Huh? I blushed furiously. He meant my head should be covered and I should be wearing a skirt. I don’t like being told what to wear and what not to wear by strange men. “I don’t work here- I don’t have to follow a dress code.” I answered coldly. The cousin didn’t like where the conversation was going, he angrily interceded, “We’re only here for an hour and it really isn’t your business.”

“It is my business.” Came the answer, “She should have some respect for the people who work here.” And the conversation ended. I looked around for the people I should be respecting. There were three or four women who were apparently ministry employees. Two of them were wearing long skirts, loose sweaters and headscarves and the third had gone all out and was wearing a complete “jubba” or robe-like garb topped with a black head scarf. My cousin and I turned to enter the room the receptionist had indicated and my eyes were stinging. No one could talk that way before the war and if they did, you didn’t have to listen. You could answer back. Now, you only answer back and make it an issue if you have some sort of death wish or just really, really like trouble.