I went around the corner to the Kurdish kebab shop for a doner kebab. The
usual happy crowd greeted me and started on my order. "Chili?" the kebab chef asked. "Everything!" I replied.
While I waited I asked the cashier whether he was planning to vote in the election for the Iraqi parliament on 30th January.
"It will not work," he replied.
"I know it is difficult," I sympathised, "but I hope you will vote anyway."
"We cannot vote," the pizza chef intervened.
"Yes, you can. You can vote here in London." I had read up on this and knew it was being arranged.
"Only Arabs can vote," he said very positively, "not Kurds."
Okay. Now I am mad. Nothing makes me angry faster than ethnic or racial injustice (except maybe my kids).
"That is not true. I will prove it to you." I paid for my doner kebab and left with a determination to return as soon as I found the information.
I went home and Googled for half an hour, finally finding the
Iraq Out-of-Country Voting Program which is coordinating overseas Iraqi voting.
I printed off all the information on the site on Where, When and Who for the overseas voting, finished my kebab and beer and headed back to the shop.
When they saw me reappear waving papers they smiled and laughed, knowing I was going to give them some entertainment. One immediately sent downstairs for the manager. His English is excellent, and he runs a very good business. Being the only person in our town who has been to their city in Iraq and met Massoud Barzani has given me substantial credibility in the kebab shop.
I explained the confusion earlier about voting rights and confirmed - with all others in the shop listening - that all would be able to vote for the Kurdish Alliance List in the election.
A customer left standing by the crowd formed around me leaned over to ask what election? "The parliamentary election," I said proudly and clearly, "which will elect the people who will draft a new constitution."
"What country?" he persisted.
"Iraq."
No matter how hopeless I personally think Iraq is, I wanted for whatever reason to make it clear to my friendly, neighbourhood Kurds that this vote was important and that it was something good. The customer (a foot taller than the tallest Kurd) stood straight and said, "Excellent!" to no one in particular.
The Kurds looked at each other uncertainly. The manager made up their minds by repeating "thank you" over and over for a few minutes while holding the print-out as if it were holy writ. Smiles broke out all around.
"I will monitor the site for more information about where you will need to register and vote," I told the manager. "If you have any problems, I will give you my number."
"We have your number!" he laughed.
"Yes, you know everything about me! My number, my house, my favourite pizza! Take care," I said as I headed for the door.
I didn't get to do any GOTV for the US elections. At least I can do some for Iraq.