Tough Times - Refugee camp in Erbil

Dearest Loyal Blog Reader,

It is not the happiest of days in my part of the world. The days are rough and tough but what makes me smile is that our hearts are together and the spirit that connects us all is so strong that even these tough times won't break us.

Donations from members of the community. Picture- Internet

Thousands and thousands of Kurds have escaped the killings in Syria, finding a refuge in the Kurdistan Region in Iraq. This means thousands have to start their life from nothing, thousands have left families, friends, studies, work, houses and anything else they had. The world we have today disgusts me. But I can keep smiling and keep hoping... as Kurds we have learned too well that in this world life and freedom doesn't come easy.

Refugee Camp in Erbil. Kurds from Syria fled for their life

Members of my community- old and young; women, men and children are all taking cars filled with things that would become very useful for those who have fled in fear of their lives. Everyone is talking about how they can help. Television channels have a live coverage of a major park in Erbil were donations are being collected (Shanadar park).  People are doing everything they can to help. Earlier this evening I visited K. family who had heard little children don't have bottles to drink their milk from, nor do they have milk. Immediately, they had purchased boxes of milk for babies/ children as well as bottles and sent them to the park where the goods are being collected. This is an example of just one family.

Yesterday, with a few of my colleagues we went to the new refugee camp in Erbil, Kawrugosk, with us we took some donations which were collected both individually and also by the UKH Charity group. We were told by a UNHCR staff member there that there were up to 15, 000 people in that camp alone. It was very different to the atmosphere in the Domiz camp, because there were many recent comers. Some didn't even have tents yet. It was a chaos, as soon as we went to the back of the camp, the things had to be thrown out at the crowd randomly, because people were just running and grabbing everything.

It didn't go the way we had in mind, the original plan was to go into each tent and see what was needed then look through what we had brought in and give it to the individual families. I am not sure how useful some of the things will be. For example, bags of rice... how is it going to be cooked by someone who doesn't have a stove yet? Or they don't have a pot to cook it in? Although basinal necessities like mattresses, blankets, carpets, t-shirts, shorts, fans (some areas had electricity, others didn't) should come in handy.

UNHCR tents at Kawrugosk refugee camp - Erbil, Kurdistan

I observed from a distance as the Peshmerga took control of the situation. There were countless number of children...  what about school? How healthy are they here? How long will they need to be here? So many questions running through my mind.

Life as a refugee... Kurds from Syria in Kurdistan Region of Iraq

I speak to many of my relatives, friends and colleagues about the situation and the conditions. It seems like everyone wants to help in their own way, because somehow every single Kurd that I see has experienced this situation someway or another. If they haven't then their family members have. On a personal level, my family became refugees in two different occasions, so we have come to know the pain a little too well. Maybe this is why I feel so connected to these people, maybe this is why we all feel obliged to help.

Reminds me when we were refugees

I love this sentiment in Kurds who are eager and ready to help. I have come to realize it comes from empathy. As we were approaching the camp (Kawrugosk- I think that's the right spelling) I felt bad to even refer to these people as refugees.

We can only hope for the best

Are these not my brothers and sisters? Are they not Kurds? How can you be a refugee among your own people in your own land. I once again get infuriated. Today at work, a colleague came in giving me an amount of money, "Give this to a family at the Camp," He said. "I know how they feel, we fled too." He didn't say anything more, but it was more than enough for me to know the stories behind those eyes. I spoke to a Christian friend who informed me they are liaising with churches in a suburb in Erbil called Ankawa (primarily a Christian community) who will launch a campaign for donations to be collected in the churches. I am so proud of our Christian brothers and sisters reaching out to the Muslims. This is how it should be, and this is how it will remain here.

I studied politics and IR for a while and then specialized in diplomacy for my postgraduate degree, but it's not  surprising I am not walking in a career pathway too close to practicing politics. Maybe I have come to believe terms like justice, peace, democracy and so many other 'contested' terms we endlessly discussed (we also agreed there was never a definite explanation or meaning to any of those) are all just words and vocabulary in text books. The real world is dirty, it is unjust. How can it not be when man is killing his own kind?

I promise to keep blogging on life in Erbil and some enjoyable things too- the things that you are used to reading on mandalawi.blogspot but there are somethings that can't be left unseen and unsaid... this was one of them.

Until next time
Khwa Hafeez



Other than the first picture, all photos for this blog were taken either by me (Yup! Getting used to the Samsung Galaxy S something) or Z.A. from UKH.

Shanadar Gallery

An i-ERBIL special

Helloooo Most Loyal Blog Reader,

I know, I know. Long time no see. My excuse? Hungry. Let's be fair you feel as though this city closes down during the month of Ramadan, particularly in July (we reached a lovely 50 degrees!). I find it weird how you call someone at 3 pm and they're asleep. Yes, people sleep during the day and stay awake all night--of course the exceptions are people like myself. They call us mrishk*. This reminds me I should write about nightlife in Erbil. I promise I will.

Erbil night life for families

Soooo....

Are you asking what to do and where to go in Erbil? A few days ago I took some relatives to Shanadar Park, and I must admit one of my favorite places is definitely the Shanadar Cave. If you haven't been... GO!! Now. Tonight.

Location: Opposite the Ice Skating, you can go there from the 30 Meter or the 60 Meter avenue. Right opposite Minaret Park.

It is one of those places where you can do a few things, so it can serve the taste of different individuals. There are a few nice seating areas where you can have a drink (I mean chai --tea-- juices and other soft drinks, non-acoholic) some ice cream and gather with a few friends well into the evening. I think they also have fast food though I have never tried it. My little hint for you is have a seat by the fountain, you will love it! (if it is turned on)

Seating/ food area - enjoyable place in Erbil

The Shanadar Cave  is in the Zagros Mountains, however, a 'fake' version is in the heart of Hawler (Erbil) the beauty of the cave in Erbil is that the inside is turned into a gallery, almost like a tourist-souvenir place. I love it, because it supports local artists and it becomes a place for their art work to be seen and purchased.

Outside Shanidar Cave in Erbil

You can get post cards, little bits and pieces with the Kurdish flag, key rings etc. if you are a traveling you might want to pass by since they do sell some handmade souvenirs as well (postcards just under 50 cents, key rings around $3).

Kurdish souvenirs, handmade 

I really love the atmosphere inside the cave, and the idea of turning a cave into a gallery. You can actually go on top of it as well, the view from there is reallllyyyy nice. Hang in there, I have pictures!! (Loyal blogger. Don't thank me)^

Inside the Shanidar (or Shanadar) gallery in Erbil - Kurdistan

Shanadar Cave - gallery

Let me show off a little bit. My good friend A. R. has an amazing piece there, if you are interested to have a look or even better purchase it. It highlights a strong story of the struggle of women.

A.R. 's painting! 

Make sure you take the stairs outside, by the waterfall, and climb the top of the cave, where is a nice view and a seating area too. A rather calm atmosphere!

Top of the gallery

Shanadar park at night - Erbil

I am not sure if you can see it or not, in the picture below you can see the little cable cars (or teleferique) it costs around $3 per person for about a 10-15 minute ride (can't remember) it takes you from the Shanadar Park to the Minaret Park! Try it. 

Entrance

Love this area

The down side: In places like this I wouldn't normally frown, but there seem to be groups of guys walking around -- who have nothing to do -- so it is best if you're a girl to go with someone for your own comfort.

So go to Shanadar Park, enjoy your time and let me know what you think of it.

Sometimes in a small city that is just growing and developing we have no choice but to find amusement in the simplest of things!

Until next time
Khwa Hafiz

* Kurdish word for chicken. 
^ I progressed from a BlackBerry to a Samsung S4 (I think I got that right) thanks to S.K. so I would like to think my pictures are a better quality. Lazy blogger who needs to learn to use a professional camera soon.

To my new family... Domiz Refugee Camp

To the most special people I have met recently, my dearest Domizian family... 

 I MISS YOU ALL. I miss Domiz, I miss your lovely faces, I miss everything including the 60 degrees desert, sandy environment.   

I went to bed and I found myself tossing and turning, so I woke up, put on the lights and here I am writing to you... even though I know most of you (in fact all of you won't even get a chance to read this).

Only God knows how much I miss your smiles in the morning; some of you would arrive so much earlier (Ahmad, I can't forget how you said you woke up at 6 am waiting for 9 am to come..) then there were some of you who always came in a little late, and of course you were punished and had to sing us a song... some of you told jokes while others mimicked chicken noises. When you were late, some of you apologized others laughed as you had already prepared yourself for a punishment, but inside I knew why. As soon as you came in sweating, heat evaporating from your faces, I knew your tent is far... I knew your journey to the caravan wasn't an easy one. I knew you had so many other commitments out of your control.  

I miss how well you worked in groups, how you presented your findings and how you always forgot to do eye contact with all the participants. I loved how you competed with other groups.

 I miss your ideas, your heated arguments (friendly of course). I miss the way you shared your thoughts on women, role of men, culture, and a lot of life experiences. I miss forcing you out of the caravan after the sessions, you simply didn't want to leave. I miss how some of you who said you have a heart of rock (yes, you know who you are are!) ended up reading us your poetry on the last day as we said goodbye... 

 I had my eyes full of tears every time you all came to the caravan with a notebook, an old notebook with its pages so thin and crumbly... a notebook that has your words. This wasn't any notebook, this was your diary, and you each had one; some of you read your poems from it. I wondered how late at night you wrote those poems, I wondered where you were sitting in Domiz when those words came out, I wondered where you hid that diary so no one else in your tent could read it... I wondered what you will do when the pages are finished, where you will buy another one and how will you start the first line of every entry...

 Don't think that you fooled me. I know very well most of you were in love. I saw you read your poems about goodbyes trying to act all manly and holding back watery eyes; girls, I heard you speak of your 'friend' who was killed, and then I saw you secretly wipe tears; I heard you begin your communication stories in the circle with "Though the person is not here physically, I still feel we are together" it hurt me a lot, but at the same time I know something great is waiting for all of you, because you are all great.

 For me Domiz is no longer about a Refugee Camp with thousands of people complaining. No, Domiz is about individuals with great hearts, it is about 40 young people who are explosions of happiness, faith, optimism and life........ when the opportunity comes! 

I loved the activity where you were asked to cross the line every time the answer to the statement was a Yes; when the statement read "I am an optimistic person" all of you crossed the line. But only one of you chose to speak, and the words are still recorded in my memory "If I wasn't optimistic I wouldn't be here." 

I loved watching you make new friendships, I know some of you had only just met though you will be lifetime friends. I loved our little side chit-chats together, as I learned about your lives back in Syria, about your family and all that you have endured.  I loved how you all are hanging onto life. I loved your kindness, your warm hospitality. You touched my heart when you read out your dreams to each other, dreams of the future. Some of you dream to travel the world, others dream of finishing their education and a number of you dream of living in peace in a country called Kurdistan. 

I know some of you wrote your names for the training thinking we will employ you later. I know for some of you that's the only reason why you came, but I know on the last day as I sat in that black car and waved to you from the car window as I left... you were ready and dedicated to volunteer everyday with your peers for the sake of the wellbeing of Domizian people. I just know it. 

I love everything, but I also hate. Yes I hate. I hate the fact that I am sitting in a room right now, in the capital city, under the air-conditioning, under a roof on a double size bed while you, my family, are in tents... I know I would be happier now if I were to spend my late night in one of your tents, all gathered together in one of our warm conversations... where we all leave and go to sleep full of hope and optimism because of that positive energy we pass to one another. 

I never feel lost, because usually (mostly) I know what I want, it is just a matter of how to get there, but this time I am lost because there are certain confrontations that I will face if I decide to come back to Domiz for a good few months. I have people in my life who I need to consider. My dearest family, I promised I will visit you again, here I am thinking of how I could live up to that promise. 

I assure you if it were up to me I would pack my bag right now and I will leave 5 am tomorrow morning so I can be there with you to start a morning training session at 9 am sharp. I wish it was this easy, and it probably is, and you never know soon I might be joining in this journey of yours. I watched some of you grow as individuals, I discovered a lot about your personalities and like buds to roses your flourished day after day. I always imagine how my life would be if I come and settle with you all for a while. How much we would learn from one another, and how I would come to look at my life and the world in a complete different way.

Forgive me...

Forgive me for I haven't done anything for you

Forgive me for forgetting to bring the winning team a treat

Forgive me for not visiting all your tents

Forgive me for not speaking individually to each one of you

Forgive me for I still have your names and numbers and yet to find you all jobs

Forgive me for being a light of hope for you but still not able to solve your issues

Forgive me for I need to carry your voice to the outside world and I haven't

 Thank you... Thank you for teaching me there is more to life than what I thought, Thank you for reminding me what the important things are in life Thank you for inspiring me Thank you for being a family and welcoming me to your life at such a delicate time Thank you for being strong. 

And side by side we will take steps forward... that, I promise.

*All pictures taken by myself and various other participants of the training. This training was run by UNFPA, we (A-KH and myself) were originally Y Peer volunteers, and hence, the two training we did were for 40 Syrian Kurdish Refugees based on the Y Peer training! 

My Days in the Domiz Refugee Camp

Dearest, most loyal Blog Reader,

For this week I am joining forces with with a former colleague of mine working with youth in the Domiz Refugee Camp just outside Duhok. I can go on to write pages and pages, although I have decided to share with you a few of the pictures I have taken so far.

Kids playing... no toys!

Three friends...

The neighborhood

The youth are individually selected to go through this training. Hence, the forty people that I am working with during this time may not reflect the values, attitudes, or personalities of the thousands of others in the camp. I know, and I realize they are unique. The aim is to give them the skills necessary to  initiate projects and motivate other youth in the camp.

Humble water fountain at a restaurant in Domiz

Fixing TV

Above: A man with a little shop, had four children, fixes TVs in the camp.

Everyone - old and young - try to work.

and I meet a family...

And here, I visited one of the tents belonging to the family of one of the participants in our training. One tent, more than five adults, a bathroom, kitchen and toilet. This is really good compared to new comers who only have a tent. This family has been in Domiz for about a year and three months.  Their house in Syria is destroyed.

Roof of tent

Kitchen

Bathroom

"My husband has cancer, he is in the tent looking after the children and I try to work so we can live. My wish right now is to be able to cure his illness and take my kids out of the camp." Said one of the women I spoke to.

Domiz Refugee camp

Despite the fact that the Domiz refugee camp is better than all the camps in neighboring countries (since the refugees are given full and legitimate right to leave the premise of the camp and find jobs outside) its inhabitants still dream of leaving.

'Luck' families who are not in tents.

Our training sessions in UNFPA caravans

I found it frustrating that most of the youth who are not working outside the camp are literally spending their days doing nothing. It was even more frustrating when I saw what great personalities there were.

My view everyday!

Until tomorrow good night for now....