Devi Asmarani – It was a week before the April 5 election and a group of women was attending a workshop on political empowerment in Tentena, a charming highland in Central Sulawesi that has turned into a refugee town after religious conflicts in neighbouring Poso.

I had been talking with Mrs Yoce Donggulo, 27, and her three friends during the lunch break, but I sensed they were not quite happy with our discussion.

Finally, Mrs Yoce said rather apologetically: "Could we ask you a question now?" Sure, I said. "As a journalist, and as someone who shares our faith," she said, "which party do you think we should vote for? We are confused because there are so many parties, you see. In the past we voted for Golkar, but we no longer trust it because when we fled our homes and our farms for the refugee camp here, no one paid attention to us. So could you please help us decide?"

I was amazed that she felt a strong enough urge to pose the question. These women have been living in a shantytown with thousands of other Christian refugees for the past four years, yet they still feel compelled to vote for the "right" party.

They proved wrong what sceptics and commentators in Jakarta believe: that the grassroots, especially in the outlying provinces, are mostly irrational voters whose choices are affected by either tradition or money.

I met many others like Mrs Yoce and her friends while covering the election in the eastern provinces.

They were passionate about their political choices, and the best part was, they did not have the pessimism of so many city dwellers in Jakarta and other major cities in Java.

While some celebrities in Jakarta openly say they did not vote because they did not believe in any of the parties, not voting would have been almost unthinkable for them.

The reason for their enthusiasm to vote, other than the fact that it is a tradition, is perhaps a yearning for change. The past five years have seen prices shooting up, sectarian conflicts and separatism on the rise, terrorism wreaking havoc and graft worsening. But change does not always mean new. Some long for a return to the relatively stable years of the Suharto era. Many people I interviewed in the provinces expressed yearning for those years, if not for any other reason than the economic prosperity and political stability it offered.

In Tokorondo, a Muslim village near Poso, a group of refugees in a squalid camp told me they would vote for retired general Prabowo Subianto in the July presidential election because he was Suharto's son-in-law.

When told that he was separated, and quite possibly divorced, one man defended his choice: "Well, still, he has some Suharto connection, and plus he's from the military." This view reflects the prevailing sentiment: Stability is often associated with the military.

The election is two months away and they could change their mind before then. But I'm certain many Indonesians are keen to use their right to elect their president directly for the first time. And I suspect Mrs Yoce and her friends would have even greater problems deciding.