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Sazan M. Mandalawi.

So many faces in every traffic light, on every wall and in the strangest of places, all yelling out the same thing: "Vote for me!" So many numbers to learn and many faces to look for in the daily evening news. What is most amusing-believe it or not-- is that even in the daily conversations of every Kurdish girl, the election is a hot topic.

The patriotic sentiment within me has always existed, but during this election campaign it has been amplified. The first time I voted in my life, the unforgettable day of July 5, was emotional and teary. Hopefully on March 7 I will be stronger, and I am looking forward to lining up, showing my ID and marking off my name. Of course, there is no greater feeling than putting your finger into the blue ink. (For an entire week, people will actually believe that I am, actually, over 18.)

This time around, like a young child, I have been busy with the entire spirit of patriotism--including the flags, colors, and of course, the election songs. The tones and rhymes are always in my mind, and somehow I tend to relate to most of the lyrics. What is amazing--even if it is not for a list or a political party that I am not encouraging-is that the feeling of the patriotic songs reminds me of nothing else but that I am a Kurd. I am proud to be alive in such a day where the culture of elections is slowly emerging and people are thinking before making decisions.

The first time I made my way to the ballot box (and returned in tears), it was an emotional experience. Having lived abroad all my life and then to cast my first vote in my homeland was a special feeling. This time I find myself questioning different issues, thinking it through thoroughly, and following the different candidates closely.

I have thoroughly indulged in watching the soon-to-be parliamentarians visiting different people and places, making all sorts of promises and vows. Politics is a dirty game, no matter where in the world, and Kurdistan is no exception. Then again, if this did not exist, then we are eliminating half the fun. What I have noticed is that the gossip of who said what and why certain things were said has been rather interesting-creating great debates among the young and old.

What makes the open list elections more worthy of following is the degree of energy and dedication that the candidates put into the process. Campaigning, the noise in the evenings, and the decoration on the streets and buildings--not to forget the cars--has added much color and sentiment to the past three weeks.

So, who gets my vote? It is no secret, and I made up my mind long before the campaigning began--although up to this point I am still thinking of the candidate for Parliament. The campaigning did affect me, and I certainly will not vote for certain individuals for whom I thought I would vote.

March is definitely a month of color and indeed the most patriotic month in the entire year. This year, it has been extra special. The rain at the end of a rather dry winter, the whole sentiment of the election campaign, the uprising on March 4, and of course Newroz later in the month makes it a rather frenzied and energetic time of the year. Kurdish households are hands-down busy. For three weeks, people have been counting down the days to vote--after elections, Newroz preparation takes over. If you have not given your Jli Kurdi (Kurdish clothes) to the tailor by now, then do not bother because it is too late.

As for all the faces, posters and numbers, what is bothering me most is that I am already thinking of who is going to remove it all and clean up, since some of them seemed to be fixed in place with iron glue.