domingo, 9 de febrero de 2025

POLLING STATION MEMBER — TG STORY

 

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-- Written by “Irene Naridza”

IA PICS MADE BY HOTPOT

My twin sister was selected to be a member of the polling reception board for these elections. It’s a system that randomly selects citizens, who are then required to undergo training and spend their ENTIRE day attending to voters arriving at the polling stations.

It’s an unfair system. The state doesn’t care if you had something very important to do. You have to go, or you’ll be fined; $67.50. All because the state lacks municipal staff for these processes. Although elections usually don’t fall on workdays, and they give you $20 as compensation, that amount might not be enough and feels like a joke compared to the fine, which is more than triple that amount.

The problem was that my sister had fallen behind on a university project since working and studying is no easy task, especially when the distances between your home, your job, and your university are two hours each.

That’s when she came to me. “Please, take my place, or I won’t be able to finish my project on time.” she said through tears. “I can’t replace you. You were assigned to the female table.” I replied without taking my eyes off my faculty book and taking a sip of my coffee.


“We’re twins; I can do your makeup and dress you up so you look just like me.”
I remember spitting out my coffee so violently that my wall got stained. Luckily, only a few drops landed on my book.

“You’re crazy! That’s identity fraud, a crime punishable by law with a fine and up to 26 years in prison.” We had recently covered that topic in my law class. She wouldn’t know. We go to the same university, but we’re in different majors.

“IF I DON’T FINISH THIS PROJECT, I’LL HAVE TO RETAKE THE COURSE!” she shouted through tears, her voice already breaking. That’s how I ended up agreeing. I haven’t even graduated as a lawyer yet, and I’m already committing fraud. I have a bright future as one of the candidates on the ballots.

This Saturday, we stayed at her friend’s house, which is very close to the public school where our polling station is located. There, she gave me a video she had recorded of the training sessions. If you don’t attend the training, there’s a $45 fine. It’s not too complicated, but expecting you to learn everything from just one session is a bit absurd.

That night, Viviana and Manuela spent their time putting in hair extensions and pouring bottles of weird stuff on me. “It’s to make it look natural.” Manuela said. She works part-time as a hairstylist.

“I still have to go vote too. How are we going to do this?” In Ecuador, you get a voting certificate when you cast your vote. It has your photo, name, ID number, and a few other details. Oh, and the most important part; it’s a document required for many bureaucratic processes.

Punishing citizens who don’t vote with a fine and restricting access to certain procedures is incredibly low, but that’s how the laws work in this country.

“The school is literally around the corner. We’ll dress you up and fix your hair. You’ll put on loose clothing over it. You’ll go, vote, and come back running so we can do your makeup.” Manuela explained after finishing the hair extensions. They were black, straight, and fell past my shoulders. I still didn’t look like her.

Viviana and I are the same height, but we don’t have the same figure. They solved that by putting me in a weird harness. It was made of silicone covered in latex with some rods. They told me to put it on like underwear. From that moment, my little friend down there felt constricted, but when they tightened some straps, everything became very tight.

“Great, now you have my hips.” my sister said. “It doesn’t look bad.” Manuela said with a chuckle. It had a feminine design in that area. I remember asking why, my face still red. “You’ll be there from 7:30 AM to 9:00 PM. You’ll probably need to pee.” my sister explained while handing me some jeans.

“But… was that vulva design necessary?” I asked as I felt a burning sensation down there. “OF COURSE.” They both answered before pulling out another contraption. It was a torso piece with molded breasts, made of the same materials as the first harness.

They both helped put it on me, and when they tightened the straps on the back, I had breasts, and it was hard to breathe. Seeing myself in the mirror felt strange. I looked like a woman, a naked one. The cold night air seeping through the window made me shiver. The harnesses didn’t retain heat. They were completely cold.

Viviana and Manuela didn’t seem disturbed. They were glancing at me, examining the results. “IT’S GOOD.” they both said. Then came the clothes; leggings that weren’t too tight on the legs but almost unbearable in the crotch. Then a white bra and a plaid shirt. It didn’t take them long to examine me before giving their approval. I liked the result too, as long as I ignored the fact that I was looking at myself.

Next came loose clothing over the first ones. Since I had to vote, I couldn’t already be disguised as my sister, but we needed to save time with the harnesses. We checked to make sure nothing looked strange, much to my sister’s dismay.

“I can’t see the breasts.” she said, confused. “Neither with you when you wear loose clothes. You have small breasts.” I replied before Manuela gave me a smack on the head.

Finally, they gave me a strange honey candy that tickled my throat. “I ordered these online. They’re from Maglavir.” Viviana said. “That country up north?” I immediately covered my mouth with both hands.

The candy had made my voice higher. It still didn’t sound very feminine, but it had changed. “THE RUMORS WERE TRUE. THESE CANDIES RAISE YOUR VOICE.” Sis claimed, jumping up. “Come on, say something else.” Manuela urged, shaking my shoulders. “Stop shaking me.” I replied, feeling a bit dizzy. They were amazed.

Then we went to sleep, though not before taking another candy. Sleeping was difficult due to the pain and pressure in my crotch. Before closing my eyes, I kept reminding myself that I was doing all this out of love for my dear sister.

They woke me up at 6:00 AM. By that point, I couldn’t feel anything down there anymore. My bladder told me I had to pee. I stood frozen in front of the toilet, not knowing how to proceed in this form. Then Manuela arrived and pushed me down onto the seat. “You have to sit down. Then wipe with toilet paper. Do it well to avoid bad odors.” she explained before leaving.

Peeing sitting down with this harness was the strangest and most uncomfortable thing I had ever done. While cleaning myself, it felt like a second skin. “This will be useful to you.” Manuela handed me some lemon-scented wet wipes once I was out of the bathroom, which I put in the purse.

I left wearing a hoodie and sweatpants over the leggings and plaid shirt. My long hair was slicked back and hidden under the hoodie’s hood.

I felt a cold sweat as I passed by the soldiers guarding the place. I felt all eyes on me, glancing from the corner of my eyes just to make sure they’re weren’t. When I reached board number 4, the classroom where I had to vote, my nerves escalated.

The secretary receiving the ID card glanced at me for a moment. I couldn’t say a word, or everything would fall apart. Fortunately, he simply nodded, and the other officials handed me the presidential candidate ballot and the assembly member ballot. I marked the boxes, casting my vote for Luisa González and her party before placing them in their respective ballot boxes.

I signed the attendance sheet, and they returned my ID and voting certificate card. I walked back quickly. I nearly had a heart attack when someone blocked my path. I thought I had been discovered. But it was just one of those annoying laminators.

“DO YOU WANT ME TO LAMINATE YOUR ID?” he asked, staring into my eyes. I shook my head and tried to move forward. “COME ON, LET ME LAMINATE IT.” he blocked me again, this time stopping me with his arm, his hand almost touching the fake breasts.

Since I was in a hurry and offering your services through harassment is unacceptable, I shoved him aside with all my strength. “RUDE ASS!” he said as I walked away. The soldiers did nothing. Even they knew how annoying these people could be.

As soon as I arrived, my sister gave me another honey candy and dragged me to a chair where she and Manuela started applying makeup. Foundation, plenty of eyeshadow, eyeliner, and lipstick. Layer after layer across my face. It felt like an eternity, but according to Manuela, it was only 15 minutes.

“Perfect. HE LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE YOU.” Manuela said. Viviana also looked excited. When I saw myself in the mirror, my jaw dropped. It was like seeing a copy of my sister standing right next to her, only wearing different clothes.

I didn’t have time to be amazed, as my sister hurried me. “It’s 7:25. Hurry, or I’ll get fined.” she said while handing me her purse. “Here’s my ID card. You’ll have to vote for me too. You already know, for Luisa González.” she explained while removing my baggy clothes, revealing the feminine outfit and long hair.


“Remember, you have to give a copy of my ID to the voting official so he can pay you.”
she said while slipping the document into the purse. “You can keep the money, of course.” she added. I don’t know why they need a copy. Isn’t your presence, signature, and performance right in front of their eyes enough to pay you? Years go by, and bureaucracy remains, showing no signs of disappearing.

Manuela handed me a white sweatshirt with a romantic phrase embroidered in the center. “This one’s a bit tighter… in case you get cold.” she said as she helped me put it on. My breasts looked more noticeable, almost natural.

“Come on, say something.” my sister ordered. “I hope this works.” The voice that came out was a girly one. I couldn’t believe it—I still can’t. Manuela and Viviana jumped and high-fived. They had done it; they had turned me into my sister’s double.

Almost trembling, I walked with Manuela to the voting place. She only had to vote and leave, but I had to stay as the secretary of the voting table. The morning cold only made me feel more exposed, and the slightest glances made me tremble. The only thing keeping me secure was Manuela’s hand holding mine.

We crossed the gate without drawing attention from the soldiers. When we reached the women’s voting table number five, I showed a copy of the notification appointing my sister, I mean, me as the voting table secretary. One of the girls sighed in relief. “YOU’RE LATE! I HAD TO DO YOUR JOB!” another one said, sounding a bit annoyed.

I immediately sat down without saying a word. My table was the first one by the entrance. My job was to collect the voters’ ID cards, verify that they were registered, confirm their details, have them sign the attendance sheet, and return their documents after they voted.

The girl next to me was the ‘table president’; she signed and handed out the voting certificates, which were slightly smaller than a card and made of a paper-like material. Even if my sister had this role, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I have good handwriting and drawing skills, so forging my sister’s signature was easy.

The second member was responsible for handing out the ballots and instructing voters where to place them, and the third member was an extra helper, assisting when necessary. She was the girl annoyed at me when I arrived. I understand this is frustrating, but in the end, it’s her job.

The first person I assisted was Manuela. I searched for her name in the electoral registry and found it. “Here she is.” I said, feeling relieved that my feminine voice remained. The second member gave her the ballots. “The white box is for the presidential ballot, the brown one for the assembly members.”

It didn’t take her long to vote and place the ballots in the boxes. When she returned, I handed her the certificate along with her ID card. “Good luck, Viviana.” she said with a smile.

As soon as she left, another older woman arrived. The routine was the same: take her ID card, find her name in the registry, have her sign the attendance sheet after voting, and return her ID along with her voting certificate. And so it went, over and over. For those who couldn’t sign, I had to assist them by inking their thumb to make a fingerprint.

My nerves gradually faded as the day went on. Women arrived to vote and I assisted them. Faces, names, ID numbers, and signatures. That was all I saw for hours. The other girls at my table chatted among themselves and barely paid attention to me.



No one noticed anything unusual. That was a relief. Forget about social ridicule. Legal consequences for identity fraud would ruin my chances of becoming a lawyer.

Now I’m on my break. I have 30 minutes. The first thing I did was vote for my sister. She was assigned to another table. There, the woman didn’t even look up to check if I resembled the girl in the ID. She was too absorbed in her phone.

I checked my phone because I had received a message. My sister even gave me her panda bear phone case. “Manuela will bring you something for lunch.” Viviana’s message read. I sat at one of the cafeteria tables, crossing my legs. It’s the only way to be comfortable with the harness.

Fortunately, this is going easier than I imagined. My only concern now is that the best candidate wins: Luisa González. Daniel Noboa has already proven to be terrible by invading the Mexican embassy, mismanaging hydroelectric plants leading to power outages of up to 14 hours daily, and being completely indifferent to the deaths and violence against women and children. This country will be doomed if he’s reelected.

But I think it’s too soon to worry about that. With 16 candidates and only two major political forces, a president is rarely decided in a single electoral round. It’s most likely that everything will be determined in the second round in April.

If this was a mistake, it doesn’t matter anymore. There’s no turning back. My sister couldn’t come because of that damned university’s project. The fine for abandoning electoral duties ranges from nearly 5,000 to 9,000 dollars.

9,000 DAMN DOLLARS. In a country where the basic monthly salary is 460 dollars. It’s outright abuse, but it’s nothing new. The state loves taking advantage of ordinary citizens.

The good thing is that Viviana will be available to handle the voting table herself in April. But who knows. Maybe something will happen, and I’ll have to become my dear sister’s double once again.

 

To Be Continued someday…

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------------------------------------------------------------------- Escrita por: “Irene Naridza” IMÁGENES IA HECHAS POR HOTPOT: http...