A morning with beggars

I told my family last night that I was thinking of dressing and acting like a beggar in one of the traffic lights in Erbil to go deep into the issue, since it is Ramadan more of them are filling the traffic lights and I am always doubtful to pay them or not. So I gave myself a mission: spend a day with beggars!

“Tomorrow is the only off day I have at work and I don’t have a report for this week’s issue of the paper. So I am going to do it.”

Of course my mum thought I was out of my mind, saying “why don’t you make us Ftoor instead” (dinner to break the fast with) but dad understood where I was coming from.
No. I did not dress like a beggar, but instead I put on a scarf (I am after all fasting and it is Ramadan) took a telescope, camera, pens, notepad and dad had called one of my cousins who came knocking at the door 9 a.m. sharp.
Khosga's brother.

I was ready. I planned to spy on the beggars the entire day and my cousin was going to be there to a) take pictures and b) so dad doesn’t worry about me being frightened or worse eaten.

My morning with the beggars was definitely a worthy experience.
Y.M. (the cousin): “I have left my wife and kids so you can talk to beggars. Just write my name and I will tell you their stories,”

Me: “Will you come or shall I call someone else to come with me?”
Y.M.: “Fine, where do you want to go?”

Me: “A Traffic light, a place where I can find them.”

I could tell as we were driving, he was also interested in what we might come across. So we went to one of the many traffic lights in Erbil and saw on each side of the lights a number of beggars. We parked at a distance and did some spying, (never realized I was born to be a detective!) After 10 minutes I had seen enough, I was out the car and went to meet my suspects.

Three things that I cannot leave the house without: Pen, notepad, camera and this time I took dad’s telescope to spy from a distance first – I must admit it was useful.

Of course the beggars refused to speak to me, so I lied a few lies (lying for a good cause – even if you’re fasting – is not sinful… is it?) and I promised to give them money in return after we had finished our conversation. So we crossed the road to the park and sat under the shade for what was going to be a long conversation. I tried to be as casual as possible, and became friends (yes, friends) with them before I went into the details of their lives.



Suspect 1: I realized she lied to me after she said one of her kids was 8 years old and she got married after the fall of the regime. I asked if it was from a different husband or if she was pregnant before her marriage but she said no. From the human biology that I remember from school days this did not make sense, so I knew I should be cautious with this one.



Khadija only spoke Kurdish with me, but I later realized her Arabic was very fluent and so was another language she spoke, which I could not understand a single word from. But she was from Mosul, and said they escaped the insecurity in the area – fleeing to Erbil.

Not realizing I knew Arabic too well she told one of her friends (or relatives, I didn’t get the family connection there, but it was clear she knew the other beggars with her) “this one is rich, she paid me $--!” Obviously with the Arabic word ‘Haya’ she was referring to me.

She has three children at home and the baby in her arms is only 3 months old. She brings the baby with her when she begs. I asked why she does not leave the little one at home, “she drinks my milk, I can’t leave her” she told me, though it is clear people are more sympathetic with a baby in her hands and it is a tactic.

As she told me about her living conditions, her husband is a government employee – cleaner – and they live in a house with her mother-in-law. The family of six receive food rations from the government and she seems to earn at least 15 000 to 20 000 (ID) a day, I did some mathematics in my head and on average she collects about $400 a month from her begging.

I must mention this is part time, 9 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. job.

The ones I spoke to and met let me in on their secret. Every two days they go to a new traffic light.

She says they will not go to where there are police because they will take them to Shekhala (a place near the Erbil Citadel) where there is a shelter and the securities keep them there until past midnight. Although it is clear that is not holding the beggars from going out again the next morning. They see it as their jobs. But I could tell they do not do it because they enjoy it, but they think they have to in order to survive. What bothered me about Khadija was that I told her I have found a job for her (really, If she accepted I would have definitely searched for a job for her) somewhere appropriate but she said she will not work and refused the job offer, saying “I have a baby.” When I told her she can take the little one with her she said, “I can’t my health is not good, it is difficult to work.” I wanted to say a lot, but realized this was about her and not me. So I just listened instead.

By begging Khadija earns enough to make a living, pay her rent (which she says is 160 000 ID), buy food but as she said “I have no money for new clothes for the kids for Jezhn”** and “what I earn in begging is only enough for less than a day.”

She swore many times when I asked her if she was telling the truth, and she repeated that she was fasting and had no option but to beg under the warm sun.

Khosga*, however, was a 14-year-old girl that brought tears to my eyes. Her story was believable, and I believed every word of it. Her story was touching. But I later learned her brothers and sisters also beg, some in the same traffic and those who are not with her she knows exactly where and when they are begging.

Speaking to the girls privately as we walked off, I asked if they are sexually harassed and they admitted that they hear hurtful words and requests from certain drivers. I made sure to do my part and gave them the best of advice that I could. Not as a journalist or a reporter, but an individual who cares about young people, and is sympathetic towards the vulnerable.


I promised I will search for a job for Khosga, as she vowed to me that if she works she will no longer beg. At 14, there is more to her life than to knock on car windows asking for money. I will rescue her.

I learned some of these people are real beggars with no other option, and for others it is pure laziness and has, to a degree, become a business, a business that they are well acquainted with.

I will not talk about Khosga’s heart aching story in this blog entry, as I will report on it in this week’s issue of the Kurdish Globe, and I will put it on the blog after its publication.


For the past week every time I come back from work there is a lady (covering her face) in the exact same traffic light. I think that is what prompted me to go on this mission because I always have money in a small Quran I place in the car, and I do not hesitate to give 1 000 ID or 2 000 ID but the entire week the same lady, at the same spot and at the same time raised suspensions, “does she deserve it or not?” I would ask myself everyday as I reached to my purse.

Unfortunately, begging is an issue in our society that we must tackle before it spreads further.

The government is doing its part in catching the beggars and putting them in a shelter for the rest of the day before letting them go again, but that is not tackling the problem as they are back on the streets the next day.

Some sell tissues, little Qurans, car-fragrance or chewing gum in traffic lights, others like Khosga and Khadija who I spent my morning with just take out their hands, pray for you and beg that you give them some money.

So, next time I see someone at the traffic light, will I pay them or no? I will. Even though I know they will and can survive without it. But I feel guilty driving pass in an air-conditioned car as they knock on windows under 45 degree heat. If not for the mother, then for the sake of the little child, but I know the government is requesting that no one pays them so that they stop the begging and find a job instead (which is why most of them say that they have a disease).
If anyone happens to have a solution, please let me know. I am thinking of raising the matter and search for method to tackle this problem. If you are interested to help, then I beg you.


* The names have been changed
** Jezhn is what Kurds refer to Eid, or the celebration to mark the end of fasting and the holy month of Ramadan.

Ramadan in Kurdistan

Ramadan is here and funny enough I am writing this entry at work – it’s Friday and Iraqi politicians are surprisingly not giving any press conferences or press releases. The reason? – It’s either “no agreement has been reached on the formation of the new government” or they’re fasting! – I think both!

Which brings me to the fasting,

Ramadan (asides from Newroz) is one of the best times of year to be in Kurdistan. Don’t get me wrong, the weather is S.S.S. – Sizzling Sweaty Sticky – but the fasting is amazing.

If you live in the neighborhoods, before the sun begins to set neighbors run around knocking doors exchanging plates of food or small bowls of soup.

I have taken an evening shift of being ‘door opener’ – between 6:30 and 7 p.m. Mums send their little kids with a plate of this and a plate of that. I can’t explain how beautiful the feeling is when I open the door and see a little child holding up a plate of something.

It is not about the food. But about the tradition, thinking of others and the feeling of giving that I love the most. Let us be frank – a good portion of the people do not fast for no apparent reason, but the respect, and the general atmosphere of the holy month really does bring people together.

Having been back home for four years now I have come to realize Kurds are generally moderate Muslims. We function on the basis of: “You have your religion and I have mine, you are free and so am I” no one asks you why you are not fasting or why you chose to wear a scarf during the holy month. But somehow we seem to come together in a surreal way during this time of year in particular.

The feeling of shopping, the cars on the road, the mosques, the evening calls for prayers, the family gathering and of course the best food of the best Kurdish mother are all things I seem to notice and appreciate more whilst living in Kurdistan.

In the years I lived abroad – if I chose to fast – I dreaded it!

Here, I take the time to enjoy every second of the Holy month. There is something in the Kurdish culture that is apparent in the region that – despite the S.S.S. weather – makes me want to be here right now than any other corner of the world.

If you think the atmosphere in Ramadan is beautiful, just wait for my blog for Jezhn (Eid) as we begin preparing to celebrate days that mark the end of the Holy month!

My dear reader (or readers if I am lucky enough!) Happy Ramadan! Enjoy the family time and the uniqueness of this holy month no matter in which corner of the world you are in.

As for me I can't wait to get home right now and follow my nose to the smell of mum's food and the noise of my little cousins and relatives!


--
Please note: This blog was written on Friday at work but only just managed to put it on my blog. Please accept the apology! :)

hair color- the 50's style!

If you are a Kurdish girl reading this blog you probably think I am out of my mind. If you are someone from any other part of the world please take note that this entry does not in any way reflect the ideas, values or beliefs of all Kurdish girls (It sounds like a big warning, but this is just a kind note for you to keep in mind).

I am not a girl who has a new-look 12 times a year, once every four weeks, as a matter of fact I do not have a new-look even once a year, so the idea of changing my hair colour – a single tone – was a revolution to me.

You see, modern day Kurdish girls, in particular those living in the cities have a passion for beautifying themselves (first on the list is hair-color and makeup!). A close female friend* kindly noted to me “since the first day of Uni up to graduation day you looked exactly the same,” I must say she was right.

Once, not too long ago, I visited a village in Mergasoor – I was amazed by the long, healthy and beautiful coloured hair of the stunning girls in the village. With my infinite complements they insisted to give me the magic- Khana! (Or Henna in Arabic)

Traditionally, (like in the era of my grand parents) Khana was probably the only thing they had to color their hair with at the time. It is all natural. So I went under their hands [my new friends in the village] in less than 30 minutes my head was tied with a few plastic bags and a scarf and I was told to sleep with it till the next morning. The next day they washed it off over the sink and I was ‘ready to go.’

I must say I liked the result – because there was not much of a difference to how it originally was.

Hence, months later, after the very positive complement of the good friend! I decided to put Khana on at home.

So here is how it went:

WARNING: Please do not try this at home (unless you have an expert) it can otherwise be dangerous, smelly, dirty and suicidal. It is best if these procedures were not undertaken in the presence of a mother who nags over a speck of dust on the table.

Make sure you save the entire week’s newspapers to spread on the bathroom floors, have plenty of plastic bags at hand and Good-Luck!

I remember the girl in the village mixed water with the sand-like Khana until it became almost like runny mud, so I did the same, except it was too hard, so I added more water – a little more than more – so it became too runny (of course you must knead it like dough). Wearing gloves is a MUST – unless you are looking for a bright orange hand.

Another good advice from the experienced (that’s me!): normal plastic gloves you find in hair dye packages will not work. So I went for the tough plastic gloves that are designed for dishwashing.

Kneading is the fun part, the difficulty is when you must rub or put the chunks of runny mud-like Khana onto your hair. I made my attempt.

It is best to wear the oldest shirt you have, because the chances are that you won’t be able to wear it again. It is difficult if you do not have a volunteer to help. As one strand of hair is put up another goes down, I still have not figured out how the girl did it the first time.

You are supposed to sleep with the Khana on your head overnight. Put it on, then put lots of plastic bags around your head, then cover it up with a scarf (tightly!) then … just…. Try to sleep!

As for the smell – I do not think any 21st Century girl would think it is a complement if her father asked her to sit next to him because she smells like his mother back in the day.


Just for your information among the new generation Khana is considered so not cool that even if you request from some of the hair salons they will not agree to put it on your hair.

What happened to natural remedies? natural beauty care? but saying it to my senseless self – what happened to having natural hair color? I guess peer-pressure works, even when you are almost 21.

The point of this blog is that sometimes we ‘develop’ and ‘modernize’ in ways that are not necessarily beneficial. So what if Khana is an old way of changing your hair color? So what if your grandmother used it? So what if it gets you down and dirty? It is best if certain things are just left the traditional way.


If you wish to give Khana a go, please do not hesitate to write a comment or inbox me… because trust me “let experience speak!”


I did take SO MANY pictures, I knew I had to write about it, but because of the flash the color was just not right for this blog - I am sure you would not want to see it -





* Yes you know who you are!! S.I.

Class of 2010!

July 10th marked our graduation at the University of Kurdistan- Hawler. I had the honor of giving the students' commencement speech. For this blog I thought it would be a good idea to write to you what I said, and here it is:

Vice chancellor, distinguished guests, professors and lecturers, parents, siblings, relatives, friends and last but definitely not least the class of 2010!

Good evening,

In one of our initial classes on political philosophy, it was Dr. Greaves who introduced us to John Lock and his ideas of the Tabula Rasa- he said the human mind is like a white paper and with education it begins to be filled. That is how I can sum-up our educational journey in the University of Kurdistan Hawler, a Tabula Rasa that is now filled with knowledge, information, experience and most importantly lessons for life.

For most of us we leaped into an education system unfamiliar in many ways, like the Greek Philosopher Aristotle wrote, “The root of education is better but the fruit is sweet”. We certainly tasted much bitterness in our four year journey.

We wrote essays and undertook research in a different language and we endured the many changes of the university. But here we are today, in what seemed like a never ending voyage, has come to its end with a blink of an eye. The sleepless nights have paid off. We conquered C++ and eradicated plagiarism. Every single one of us, as we receive our degrees we know too well that we have put our hearts and souls into this. The fruit is indeed very sweet.

As I stand here and look into your sparkling eyes, I have flashbacks of our time in UKH. Together in the past four years we have laughed, cried, danced and mourned. The university became a second home, and the students a second family.

It is difficult to say good bye and know that our paths will leads us to different directions. Goodbye is undeniably that saddest and hardest word we will ever say. But for all of us this is the beginning of another road, and we ought to be excited because the future is waiting for us.

I don’t want to say something cliché like UKH gave me wings to fly, no. In fact UKH did not give me wings, although it taught me how to fly, how to keep flying in the sky and how to take off from the ground. Isn’t this the best way to be equipped to face the world?

We quoted and cited many scholars. Soon our names will be on the back page of essay papers cited as references. Days will come where our books will be on library shelves, and our decisions and actions will influence not only us, but our society, for so many people, their future is in our hands!

As we climb the ladder to the top we should not forget what it was that originally began our journey. Dreams at the back of the mind of our grandparents are reality today. As victims of genocide, ethnic cleansing and people who were forbidden to dress in our traditional clothing and speak our mother tongue, today we are empowered by education to secure our identity and existence.

Over two decades ago our future lay in the hands of cruel regimes that detested who we were. Those days are over, today, as young people full of hopes and dreams, the future is in our hands, the future is ours! We are in control of our future, because we are empowered by quality education.

We believe that we are what Kurdistan needs!
We believe we have the audacity to confront and take on any challenge!
We believe this nation can stand on its feet and teach the world many things!
We believe we have the potential to accomplish what is otherwise the impossible!
And we must believe the future is in our hands!

Class of 2010, finally I want to remind you of what Elenour Roosevelt said “the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams” my message to you this evening is “let your dreams take you to the mountain peeks of Kurdistan” together we can move a mountain. You must have dreams not just for yourself, but for this region, because after all the future is ours.

Ladies and gentle man, distinguished guests, I assure you, today the University of Kurdistan- Hawler has just unleashed a new millennium of young people who are eager for prosperity, development, success and who will make fruitful citizens of this society. The university has cultivated seeds that will be trees of the forest in the years to come.

To the first undergraduates of an English language University in Iraq!
To the future leaders, decision makers and visionaries!
To the class of 2010!
Yes! We graduated!
Yes! The future is ours!


Thanks to Photographer S. Hamed
Speech by- me!!

Summer days!

The weather is really hot! And life here seems to begin after 6 p.m. Although if you are like me and can never take a mid-day nap and can’t stay up after 10 p.m. then summer still has its good side in Kurdistan.

When life gets busy with exam, exam results, an unexpected viva voce, and of course the World Cup then you can forget about a social life no matter where you are in the world, including Kurdistan.

I have not been blogging for a while, not because nothing has happened. Believe me in my part of the world there is something new and interesting every day but just did not get around to sitting down and writing something.

Since I am here now let us recap my series of quests since the last entry:
Quest I: Met Boran Zaza, a talented female musician, only 18, Zaza is already juggling a hectic life of a musician. I had the chance to catch up with her in the Institute of Fine Arts in Erbil where she was playing behind her piano. A young girl with boundless talent and ambitions in her life, her day begins at 6 a.m. and does not end till past midnight (and I thought I was a busy bee).

I am always proud to see young girls like her having goals in their life and doing the impossible to achieve them. Zaza admitted it is never easy to be a female (even worse a female musician) in any Middle Eastern culture and achieve your goals without confrontations. “There are always limits and boundaries… but we just have to push forward” she told me.

Zaza is one of the many young females in Kurdistan who have set their goals in life and are doing the impossible to reach their dreams. Although she is a role model for those still at the beginning of their journey, when I listened to her playing the piano I began to shiver. The softness of this young girl, the way she fulfills her job, her volunteering, her dedication to what she loved was inspiring, even to me! Keep an eye for Boran Zaza in the near future, a rising star who is reaching the sky on her own!

Quest II: Between the end of the exams and the time results came out Y-Peer Kurdistan undertook a series of workshops, it was an interesting three days and I tried to train young people about women’s rights, inequality, public speaking and awareness of other issues in the Sorani dialect, it went great. I must say I am very proud of the team who voluntarily work hard just to raise awareness and increase the confidence of youth to be able to leave their homes and be part of the process in building their society. I shamefully forgot about the second set of workshops (because the second round was after my results came out!)* but there is a lot of Y-Peer activity coming up including an environment awareness campaign later this month!! (Keep an eye out)

Quest III: I thought it was time for another visit to the nursing home, after I began thinking of Daya Gulizard at the elderly people’s home in Erbil. We had been planning to take another trip for a while, but were busy with exams (that’s no excuse I know) so Bewar ** and I prepared some sweets, snacks and off we went. Met our elderly friends, got lots of hugs, we spoke for a while, laughed and cried.

I still think there is a lot that can be done for these elderlies. I feel as though people are just waiting for them to die. They are wonderful individuals who need love and care. Our trip lasted just over two hours, Bewar and I sat in the garden with a group of them after going around to every single room (hint: elderlies absolutely LOVE sweets) with our goodies, almost all of them wanted long conversations –and we tried our best--. I feel so great when I visit the elderlies in Erbil, they love and respect me so much considering the fact that most of them do not remember that I was the same person who they were with last week. I think that is the magical feeling I feel every time I visit them.

Quest IV: With guests arriving from Australia we thought it was perfect timing for our first summer visit to the Bekhal waterfall. (If you spend the summer in Kurdistan without actually visiting Bekhal for one day then it is like going to Paris and not seeing the Eifel tower or going to Sydney without taking a picture with the Opera House or the Harbour Bridge—simply, you better GO!) I will not write much about this special adventure, instead will put a post exclusively on Bekhal!!




Quest V: After a hectic week I thought I should spend the day at home, I completed Elizabeth Gilbert’s book: Eat Pray Love (if you are a young girl and have not read it yet then you BETTER get your hands on a copy). After much reading and seeing that ‘she lives happily ever after’ my stomach began to rumble, with no one at home but a brother who is no better than I am in cooking I thought it was time. Time to cook my first PROPER meal (I should footnote this section and state that: I consider myself a typical Kurdish girl although when it comes to cooking it is the one thing that I just can’t get right, which is opposite to most Kurdish girls who can cook up the most mouthwatering meal in less than an hour). Anyhow, I called my aunt for instructions and recipe and made the famous Brnj & Bamya without burning the kitchen or breaking a plate. For further information on my cooking adventure just ask my family. I’m officially a chef!

The point is that there is so much out there for a Kurdish girl to do these days, if only she had support and the encouragement from family and relatives. There is a lot to discover in our society and so much that we can give to the community that we live in. it’s a beautiful world here, if we only see the bright side of life.

*Not that I did really bad- but there’s a long story you surely wouldn’t want to read about.

**A friend who I wish you could meet. Sweet, kind, intelligent and with heart like no other!

What's up Hawler?

The summer break is here and I decided for the first official summer entry of this blog to have a list of 'top HOT summer places' in Erbil.



Above: The teleferique at Shanadar park in early evening hours.

The weather is already reaching 40 degrees and it is just the start of June, living in Erbil I thought I could give you a ‘Top 5’ list of What’s Hot in Erbil this summer.

5. I decided at number five I would put the suspense of Hawleries who are waiting for the completion of the project near the Baxtiari suburb, which is going to include the first modern movie theater in the capital. If completed this will definitely make the top of my list next summer. For now, if you happen to drive past the construction make sure you take the time to observe the buildings' skeleton!!


4. KFC- Krunchy* Fried Chicken The Abu Shahab coffee and restaurant had to make the list. Whilst there is better food in Erbil, it is definitely the biggest restaurant in the region so far. The seating area in the evening is spectacular- whether you are in the balcony overlooking the busy road beneath and Erbil lights at night or sitting in the garden to the sound of the water fountain. Dinner with family and friends in an evening in Erbil at Abu Shahab is differently hot this summer.

3. Aqua Park is another MUST in the list, even though it was officially opened more than two years ago- the bowling, ice-hall and water slides are definately one of the great 'to go to' places in Erbil.

2. Shopping!! Shopping!! Shopping!! although this is no longer a hobby for me, but I imagine many people still enjoy it. I prefer the traditional way to shop in Erbil's citadel as it gives me a real experience of the traditional Hawler although the new Majidi Mall will have to be a nice place to shop in these hot summer days. Even if not shopping, but the games archade and the coffee seating areas gives you a feeling of the European Lifestyle on Kurdish soil. So at number 2 it's Majidi Mall, though I am sure it will be off the list next summer, with all the development taking place in the region Majidi is going to be 'so last year'.

1. I had no doubt when I made up my mind of what is going to be number one on my list this summer. Shanadar Park, in front of the Minaret it is definitely a worthy place to spend a summer’s evening. Here the CIRCUS IS IN TOWN on the park grounds, and if that is not your cup of tea of entertainment then the seating area on a mini mountain top is relaxing, the numerous fountains, lights at night little drinks and ice-cream shop are by no means the only attraction of the park. A human made version of the original Shanadar cave sets this park out from the rest. If you have the energy to take the steps to the top of the cave the view of the surrounding is amazing, and if you are lazy the tour inside the cave is just as great with a large display of arts from young and old, the gallery is a fine display of the local's talent. If all this is not enough then Shanadar is offering the first teleferique ride inside the city. It is already up and will run very soon. The 30 minute ride will is a project covering 1800m (According to the AK).



*I know, it is Kentucky but for copy right reasons they decided to name this one Krunchy (with a K!)

Picnic Season

One of the highlights of the year in Kurdistan is the Picnic Season- that is after March 21st and continues all throughout April. On any Friday morning there is a traffic jam on the main roads outside Erbil leading to the mountains!!

The long line of cars on an early Friday morning-- all out for picnics!!


A young child 'dressed for the occassion'

Spring in Kurdistan is one of the most beautiful times of the year, and it really does bring families and friends together. If you refuse to go to a picnic (as I have realized) on a Friday or even a Saturday then you are definately considered to be‘uncool’. The planning begins the night before where last minute shopping is made in preparation for the next day. The trips can be just after the main checkpoint in Erbil, near the Khanzad Hotel, Shaqlawa or anywhere else in the mountains of Kurdistan. What is most interesting is that often even if it is not the weekend, many people make their way just outside the city



Weapons of yesterday, toys of today!




On the green grass families put out tents, chairs or just a mat. Whether having barbeque, Yapragh (AKA: Dolma) or Bryani the families gather together to have their meal and this is followed by dancing until the sun has set and they pack to go back home.
The sun has set and people still dancing away...

This elderly man sat still for hours, I wished to know what was going through his mind as he looked to the mountains in silence.

Young chidlren from local farms and villages take advantage of the situation and give donkey rides to chidlren with a cost of 1 000 ID.



The region is indeed beautiful during this time of year and the people here make the most out of the natural beauty. The downside of all this is that whilst it is picnic season, this time of year also happens to be STUDY season for students with examinations and deadlines only weeks away.

So if you're planning to visit the region, try to schedule your trip during the 'Picnic Season' because it is an experience like no other!


For all of you happy picnicking, as for me, I guess it is just happy studying!
And they make their way back home...

The life of Kurdish girls

The key is in our hands…

Four years has passed by since I first set foot on Kurdish soil from a decade of life in exile, and still I am asked two staggering questions: “why would you come back here” and of course “so where do you like more, here or there”.

My answers are almost always the same, and I often understand the reason why people ask these questions. Sometimes as I answer they raise their eye-brows, I can read between their eyes “she’s so naive” is what is going through their head (but that does not bother me). What bothers me the most is when people pre-judge our Kurdish nation with lack of knowledge.

Recently I received an E-mail from an old teacher of mine; I guess from her love and pure care for me, she wrote “I can imagine for a girl like yourself, life is difficult where you are”… excuse me?

There are many things that separate Kurdistan from the European and the developed countries around the word. But believe it or not, life back home, for a Kurdish girl, is not as bad as you may imagine.

In any part of the world what would a girl want?- some freedom, rights- to study, work and earn her income, privileges like her male counterpart and respect. More importantly any girl would want to fulfill her dreams and ambitions in life.
Four years back the numbers of female drives on the roads in Erbil were enough to be counted by fingers. Now, if there is a working car at home then it is all about getting the license before sitting behind the wheel (this is the case with girls in many households).

When girls could not visit the local bazar comfortably because of the staring eyes, like they are aliens from outer space, today malls and shopping centers allows young girls to ‘shop till they drop’ with their friends without a male family member acting as a body guard.
Kurdish girls participate in workshops to raise their awareness and become active youth in their communities.

At a time where there was no place to go but the neighbor’s house for a cup of tea, today Kurdish girls go out for lunch and dinner in restaurants with their friends for a ‘chit-chat’ or go to theme parks with rides, sit in coffee shops and even go swimming or to the gym.

For girls who want to study and succeed in their lives, whilst our education system is not the best in the world, but every girl has the right to continue her education at university level and even continue to a postgraduate degree if she desires (with good marks of course!).

My closest female friends have succeeded in their careers in Kurdistan. I have female friends, who are deputy editors of newspapers, who present television shows, who are interpreters, secretary to ministers and General Directors. There are people I know who are directors and managers of an NGO, people running for parliament, others writing books, playing sport and few who are following their ambitions in the world of art and painting.
Pic: A Kurdish girl learns to play 'ping-pong' in the games room in Uni.

A female student I know runs an entire radio station, another friend is a police woman, and the other is a first place champion in taekwondo. The point is, if there is girl with a dream, in Kurdistan the door does not close and the path is never lost.

True, at times it is difficult to persuade others that you are capable of the job, but once you prove your potentials then there is no force in the world to prevent you from reaching your dreams, and doing the things you love the most.

The misunderstanding about Kurdish girls is unfortunately shown to the world through a media that only focuses on the negative aspects of anything. These days if it is good news then it is no news at all. I wish people could see the other life that we Kurdish girls have in the main provinces.
Pic: Kurdish girls shine with beauty & full of dreams and potantials.

P.S
I have worked in the newspaper for over three years now, in the Kurdish Globe I am the only girl when we go to the office-- aside from the editor herself-- and there has never been a time when I have been mistreated, taken advantage of or heard hurtful remarks from anyone. We have our arguments about women’s rights, religion and politics but being a girl has never affected the job that I do. This is what I want the rest of the world to realize!

A place for wise men

So where do all the retired men meet in Erbil...?

Bakhi Shar is the name of a park in the heart of Erbil’s bazaar, near the citadel and opposite the new Nishtiman mall. A large black gate separates the retired men enjoying pleasurable time from the chaos of the outside world on the other side. This is a place where the knowledge, wisdom, and experience of an entire generation gather in one place in the heart of Erbil.



Above: A group of retired men in the 'Bakhi Shar' play some games

The men, some in suits, some in Kurdish clothes, and others in tracksuits are scattered across the park or large garden—some sitting on the fresh green grass, others in chairs, with surrounding tables holding dominoes and cards. Laughter and jokes come from some areas, while others day dream on their own.

Open for over one year now, the park has a section dedicated to sporting activities, and an outdoor gym along with an indoor cafeteria. Originally, a local group of retired men visited Erbil’s governor, Nawzad Hadi, and presented the idea of the garden. Not long after their visit, the piece of land was assigned for the Bakhi Shar (city garden) where, as they say, “the young cannot come in!” it is assigned only for retired men. There are ex-professors, teachers, director generals, sportsman and even poets etc..


Each of the retired men sitting in their groups--whether talking, or playing dominoes or card games--has a past and history of his own. They come here to share their stories, but it seems like they recall the happy memories more as laughter is a sentiment felt in the atmosphere of the garden.


Above: The outdoor gym in the retirement park designed to encourage the men to undertake sporting activities.

There are few other place¬s specially designed for older and retired men. The venue is also convenient because it is in the center of the city and available to everyone. For some retired men, Bakhi Shar (Baxi Shar) is the only place they go out of the house for ‘fresh air’. Something interesting I found out is that these men are actually knowledgeable, and are indeed a great source of information, each specializing in their own fields and almost all of them are college graduates with degrees and have had professional careers.


Above: Two of my friends are inspired by the wise words of a retired man.

Glad there is a place for the retired men…. In Erbil development is approaching, and it’s fast!!


Showing-off the membership card!


* Article on the retirement park published in issue: of the Kurdish Globe.er

Come with me and discover Erbil’s Citadel!

March is here!!

In Kurdistan it is the one month of the year that you would like to be in. The color of nature, the mountains, the picnics, the numerous celebrations and how can I forget NEWROZ (the biggest celebration on the Kurdish calendar).

For any guests coming into Kurdistan, and Erbil in particular during this season I thought I would dedicate this blog especially for you.

Dear tourist: There is something great about Erbil that once you have visited, you would want to come back a second and a third time as well—the citadel. The citadel, no matter what major road you are coming out from, will always be seen. It is a great cultural experience, but touring the inside you will be amazed by the architecture, the people, the different sites and indeed you will discover a treasured history of the Kurdish nation.


Above: I sit and observe the vast changes happening infront of my eyes in Erbil. In a year time I will sit in the same place, and I am sure the picture will look very different. The development is too fast to observe.

Four years later, every time I visit the citadel I feel like a tourist (discovering her own nationality and culture). Before going up the stairs into the citadel, there are a group of small shops that have been there for many years- selling Kurdish folklore—the Kurdish Klash (shoes) is one thing that you must purchase before leaving the citadel.

The original Klash is handmade and it takes more than 3 people to complete one pair for approximately seven days.


Above: These Klash come from Hawraman, Mama, in his shop shapes the Klash before he puts them on display for sale. He began making klash in Hawraman with his father when he was a child, and so many years later, he continues the tradition.


Above: Learning to tell the difference between the 'original' and 'fake' Klash. Mama tells me that they took the Klash to China in order to try and duplicated, but they failed. No one knew the secret to the perfect Klash. "It is explicit to the Kurds!"


The Klash on display for sale!


A friend discovers the beauties of a shop inside the actual Citadel.

Life’s little beauties

When mummy and daddy are not there…. Life is not over for Erbil’s orphans



In life we do not always know what we want, sometimes we are too carried away looking for our own comforts and what makes us happy. We forget of what we have, and more importantly the people that surround us. Only when they leave our lives do we realize what they meant to us and learn that their place in our hearts will never fade. Once they leave the things around us mean nothing, the beauty of life disappears and we do everything to forget them, but they can never be forgotten.

We all have people in our life who we love and cherish. But recently experiences and incidents in my life made me look into this in a deeper way, in fact, much deeper.
With a group of friends we decided to take a trip to the orphanage in Erbil, I must say it added depth to the ocean of feelings I had inside me.

Of all the children, one in particular caught my attention, little Rozie*she was the first one I saw; actually I was outside when I saw her first. Rozie was on a sofa, she had the curtains in one hand pulled to the side and the other hand on her cheek as she looked outside the window from the three story house, her and her 10 to 15 friends live in, she is about three years old, and as soon as we walked in she ran to welcome us. Her large smile showing her milk teeth, her hair messy but cute and then there it was, shiny eyes that told me the world is okay.

This little girl’s eyes were full of hope, tenderness and warmth. She was not alone. All the children were beautiful in their own ways; they are talented, energetic and vibrant. They are full of life, yet somehow somewhere deep there ought to be a wound, and it is evident.

The children have all the toys they need, all the room they need and all the food they would want to eat. But they do not have the one thing that a child needs the most—the feeling of security, they do not have access to a mother’s chest to put their heads on at nap time. Nor can they fall on the ground laughing because Daddy is tickling them.

Children are the most precious gifts in this world; they are also the most innocent and harmless. If there is one thing that children do best it is making us smile in our most distressful days. They know nothing of the world and its sadness. They are not concerned that the Kurds are the largest stateless nation, that Israel and Palestine have been in war for so many years, the economic crisis has left countless number of people jobless, and the world is coming to a place where people kill others in the name of God.

Their world composes of two people—Mummy and Daddy. For the beautiful smile to appear on their face all they want is a toy to be amused with and a hug.
How sad is it to be separated from the person who carried you in their womb for nine months, how despondent would one feel not to be able to see the other half who contributed so that you can appear in this world?

What angers me the most is that the children in Erbil’s orphanage, most of whom, have parents who are living, but they have been abandoned. The common stories are ‘the parents got divorced’ or ‘the mother got married and neither parent wanted the kids’ or ‘she was not wanted in the first place’. These are excuses that reflect something in our society that is lacked- family planning.

Be married for six months and if people do not see a ‘baby bump’ then something is wrong (though I must admit this is changing to a great extent now, which is wonderful news!) some couples do not divorce because they have children, and priority is given to the kids first. I cannot agree with this alternative. Nor can I accept that children become victims to the lousy decision making skills of adults.
There is nothing that the what so called ‘orphans’ lack--Other than lots of hugs--Our day began with a few friends who had raised some money; we made our way to the shops 9AM sharp and bought some gifts (though we all know ‘things’ can never bring happiness—but sometimes it is necessary--) and yummy goodies. We were then off to the orphanage, I must say it is a beautiful, modern area. There are six houses for boys and girls. They are both divided into 0-6 years; 6 years to high school; and then high school age and above. Boys separate and girls separate. It was organized.
Above: the girls busy with the shopping first

We began with the primary school girls first, somewhere at school when we went, we did painting, drawing, making jewelry, putting together jigsaw puzzles (which they were so fast to learn!! Must take 300 pieces this time!!) counting, writing and eating!
Busy with the puzzles...

The babies next door were noisy, but if it were in our hands we would not leave the front door. It was the most touching experience as Lava, age 4, cried and cried when we left. “You say you will come back but you won’t” she told one of my friends.
And Rozie, well her voice is still in my ear: “let them go, but you stay…” her words are soft and precious, just like herself.


(According to one of the kids, I have long hair that requires brushing)

I am happy that we made a visit, because I know their life is not as bad as I had first thought or imagined (the other orphanage before was a misery in itself). At the same time, the visit affects every day of my life, every move and ever decision. I was inspired by every child there.

Rozie comes to my mind every night before I put my head on the pillow, I wonder if she is okay, I wonder if she is hungry or if someone hurt her today (the social workers maybe). I wish life brings her success and happiness, she has a long journey ahead, and I am sure she will be a strong young woman one day who will have influence on those around her. That I am sure of.

I put Rozie's picture on the blog a few times and kept deleting it... something inside me won't let me put her picture, as much as I like to. If you get the chance visit her... she will be happy to see you... I am sure!!

Ashna putting up an illustration on Ama's bed, they made it together.


Above: The kids busy with their new possessions....

Above: Ashna, a few of the girls and I-- an attempt to entertain little toddlers is harder than one can imagine.

For some it was the first time they had held a pencil in their hand...

The games room is on the second floor.

*Names of children changed for ethical reasons