If I have children one day...
...I would tell them how, on the afternoon of March 19, 2004, Tim burst through the office door to say that President Chen had been injured by a firecracker. We later learned that it was not a firecracker, but a gunshot wound. "Assassination attempt..." screamed headlines. The government declared a national security alert.
I would tell them how, on the morning of March 20, my 93-year old Wai Gong donned his vest of many pockets, picked up his walking stick, and headed out the door to cast his vote for Ticket #2-- Lien Chan and James Soong. Why? Simple-- he knew Lien Chan's father.
I would tell them how curiosity drove me to visit the polls that afternoon. I joined a small crowd in the garage of Hsin-Yi Friendship Presbyterian and watched election volunteers reach into the ballot box and announce each vote. I would tell them how the crowd erupted, when one volunteer reader accidentally credited a vote to the wrong ticket. "How can this vote be accurate with mistakes like that?!?" The air was thick with tension.
I would tell them how all of Taiwan was glued to the television that evening-- at home, on the street, in restaurants and shops-- each person willing the number of votes for their candidate to rise. The race was nail-bitingly close.
I would tell them how President Chen and Vice President Lu won by an "hairbreadth margin" of 0.2% (~30,000 votes), how over 300,000 ballots were ruled invalid, and how the national security alert kept the military from voting. I would tell them how we listened to Candidate Lien's concession speech and how several thousand KMT supporters sat in front of the Presidential Palace for the next few days, demanding a recount.
I would tell them how politics dominated meal time conversation around the country-- even in our ABC home. Hushed rumors developed into bold questions and then outright accusations.
I would tell them how this election divided Taiwan-- and not just party against party. The division created rifts in businesses, schools, communities, churches, and even families.
If I remember all these details, I will tell them to my children and-- if I'm around long enough-- to their children. Most importantly, however, I will tell them how I had a choice to wait out the election in America. I chose to return, because I believe that my God is still in control. I believe that He is scripting His story despite the personal prejudices, mistakes, plots, and ignorance of man.
The morning of March 21, I led the choir in singing "Psalm 23." The song verbalized my reasons for coming back. The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. I will follow Him through green pastures, beside still waters, and even into the valley of the shadow of death. I will fear no evil, for my Shepherd is with me. He will never leave me nor forsake me.
And that is what I'd want my children to know most of all.
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"And seek the peace of the city where I have caused you to be carried away captive, and pray to the LORD for it; for in its peace you will have peace." (Jeremiah 29:7)
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Photo Journal
What my Canon IXUS would tell you about the March 20 elections...
I wandered around for awhile (trying to look inconspicuous) before I found this back classroom at Ku-Ting Elementary. While a police officer watched from the doorway, two volunteer workers took turns holding up the next ballot and announcing each vote: "Number 1, 1 vote... Number 1, 1 vote... Number 2, 1 vote..."
Meanwhile, two other volunteer workers echoed each vote verbally and then marked the vote on the official tally chart.
Ballots were then sorted into three piles: Ticket #1, Ticket #2, and Invalid (ballots that were purposefully misstamped to protest both tickets).
Those who were not watching the count live gathered around the nearest television to watch the election results pour in from around the country.______________________________
Soul Lemonade, No. 11
Taipei, Taiwan
