Now it's all over and journalist Jerry George of Saint Lucia still does not know where, in Castries or Vieux Fort, electors could have cast their votes in the US presidential election, such was the level of displacement public concern over the state of the island's economy experienced in favour of the battle for Colorado, Pennsylvania, Virginia and Wisconsin.
Back home, it has probably been no different for some folks in Westmoorings, Couva and Toco who could not find information about the nearest polling stations on Tuesday. The newspapers and broadcasters seemed to have had all the information minus the addresses for the voting booths.
Electors had witnessed the nominations, the primaries and torrid campaign and had followed the early voting trends. Some even had the t-shirts, caps and bumper stickers. However, over here, "Helleri" not "Hillary" is the name of the freshwater fish we keep in aquariums and "Donald" remains the talking duck in the comics. The one we dare not serve with roti for lunch.
It has also been up to a few of us to explain that our election date is in fact November 28 and was not November 8–however easy it was for many to make such a mistake. At least the "I Voted" stickers won't go to waste.
Polling stations throughout the country–rum, roti and barber shops from Toco to Cedros will remain open for the rest of the month and are due to resume activity in the next four years.Perhaps, like 2013, all 43.2 per cent of electors will turn out again for another "high voter turnout."
You see, here it's yellow and red and a few shades in between.
Not red and blue. And the ballots do not also ask how you want your chicken done or how high the gallows need to swing. It's yellow or red. Red or yellow. Simple. Balisier or Rising Sun.
All of this confusion might have perhaps been understandable since indeed we have had our own email scandal complete with forensics, leaks and intrigue and have fired at least one alleged daylight crotch-grabber who occupied high office.
There are also those who'd prefer we build a wall to keep out "the immigrants" who bring us crime and whose English does not sound the same as ours.
"Small islanders," Guyanese, "de Chinee and dem," "de Syrian and dem" together with the West African and Jamaican economic refugees we put to guard our businesses.
They're all there in the public discourse, complete with maps, analysts, xenophobes and sell-outs of our patrimony. One character "writes them up" from time to time, "small islanders" being collective code for people of a failed ethnicity.
There has even been a "gun lobby" comprising people who believe that gun ownership should be a constitutional right especially in the face of the threat of criminal terror. "Give we de guns" is yet to appear on t-shirts but there is one perennial character whose urological examinations have finally found someone with the testicles to declare that black people, Latinos, gays and Muslims are all sub-human.
Yes, someone who thinks the disabled are "funny" to look at and imitate and who believes climate change is a hoax. Takes a lot of balls to hold such positions indeed.
Only a matter of time before the next one who once proposed incentivised sterilisation in crime "hot spots" receives posthumous accolades in the face of prevailing political incorrectness. Now the worms can wriggle out of the cracks–as if we hadn't noticed or known them before.
And the rallies. Yes, the rallies. No Jay Z or Beyonce, but enough stage space for Machel, Crazy, Sugar Aloes and Rikki Jai with Bollywood favourites Faris and Stuart for good measure.
Seventy years after earning the right to vote, for all adults it seems that not unlike our Carnival, our style of campaigning for elections has become contagious. Claims of rigging, bribery, sexual innuendo, race-baiting, empty slogans, wildly contrasting poll results and terminally flawed candidates. Then the usual bacchanal at the close of play.
After all of this, on November 28, all 60 per cent of us can be expected to stay at home and flick to CNN, Fox and MSNBC and the Cooking Channel where the real action resides.
One wag over at the Bulldog Bar polling station in Tunapuna–who of course had no plans to vote last Tuesday–reckons that after 70 years of "adult suffering" we don't look that bad, after all and might actually be able to provide tips on running a true election campaign to others. Like the mas, there is export potential in this.