Your ultimate guide to Summer Vacation in Kurdistan

To the dearest reader,

From emails and comments on this blog I have realized that a great number of young Kurds abroad are returning home (Kurdistan of course!) this summer. Most of you are visiting for a short stay. So, I have come up with the ultimate Kurdistan Summer Holiday Guide. This blog is especially for all those who are planning a visit (though I prefer to call it a vacation) Kurdistan.

I am going to give you all the details from what to pack, where to go, what to do and what to buy if 
you are visiting Erbil. What can I say, a loyal blogger to loyal readers!
Here we go, so fasten your seat-belts! 

Fly to Kurdistan, Picture by Kurdistan2007_ARTIS, Flicker

The Packing

This is the tough part, you know what to pack when you come to Kurdistan, however, there are certain things that won't come to your mind and you don't realize that you needed them until after your arrival here. So let's keep it short and sharp—packing the following items will make your stay more enjoyable:

Mosquito cream: The top of the list, since you are coming in summer and since you are going to be spending a lot evenings outside, then do think of this wisely: bring with you a good mosquito cream or propellant. Summer in Shaqlawa is great, but if you are spending the night there then you are going to itch you're way through the second day with all the mosquito bites. Trust me, they won't bite your Kurdish cousins. They will know you're a guest, and you taste different. So YOU are the target!

Sun cream: It is going to be summer, and most of the time you will be out so do pack a sun cream that you are used to using.

Medication: It is best if you see a doctor before you come, and get him to prescribe some medication in case you get an unstable tummy in the first week. You don't want to waste an entire afternoon in a doctor's clinic when you’re here

Clothing: Most of the clothes you should be packing would ideally be not beyond the knee length and
as long as there is some sleeve it will be fine. Short sleeves are normal and skirts, until the knee  length is also okay.

You are free the way you want to dress. But I am just telling you what people in general wear so you have an idea of what's suitable. On a general level people do dress up, sometimes they do go overboard even if they are only going to the mall.

Sandals: If you have a favourite flip flops then do bring them along. If you visit Bekhal or any other water fall such as Gali Ali Beg then you need to wear sandals that won't be torn in the water.

The Gifts

Once upon a time (like one year back) when someone was coming back from abroad they'd ask "what should we bring back" most people would ask for a digital camera, branded make up, designer perfumes, shoes etc.. the rare that couldn't be found here. But today, my dear reader, it's different. You can easily buy the original Loreal foundation, the Addidas Shoes, and even top designer watches.

 They are not necessarily affordable prices, but they are available. So don't believe it when you hear that they can't find any of these things here.

Don't forget, Mango is already open and Carrefour is opening next month! As for the technology, well… we have the original Apple store as well. So there is no need to worry yourself about iPad, iPod, iPhone or for that matter anything else that starts with an "I" that may be released by the time this blog is published. 

 Suggestion: If I had to suggest gifts, I would say souvenirs from the county that you are visiting from. However, many people here may find it insulting that after ten years of living abroad you return with a key ring of the Eifel Tower or a toy Kangaroo. Think carefully. And another suggestion, either bring something for everyone, or nothing at all. When you're invited to people's houses [which by the way you must be prepared for] you can just take some sweets.  

Mango in Erbil Majidi Mall, picture from  Here

Flying to Kurdistan

You will know you're going to Kurdistan from the terminal at the airport.  Actually even before that. You will know in the weigh-in section where the luggage is being weighed. As soon as you see bags open and goods transferred from one bag to another (and maybe people asking you if you have any room in your luggage) then know that you are on your way to Kurdistan.

Other things to keep in my mind during your fly to Kurdistan: Everyone speaks in the plane—politics of course, clap as soon as you land, and then you begin to hear the golden words: BAXERBET, SAR CHAW!!!! At that second you should be thinking HOME, HOME SWEET HOME!!! Aaaaah!!!

Erbil International Airport, EIA, Picture by Shakawan, Flicker

The Must See:

I am sure your relatives and friends will take you around to all the places that you need to see, but here is a brief list in random order.

In the city you should visit:

1.       The Citadel, once inside there is a shop and a textile museum that is a MUST SEE!

Textile Museum- Pic by, One-Thirteen, Flicker

2.       The Qaysari Bazaar

3.       The malls: Family Mall, Majidi Mall, Sofy mall and maybe even Rhein mall


Ice Ring in Family Mall- Pic by Shakawan, Flicker

4.       The theme park: Family Fun

5.       Ica Hall for ice skating

6.       Aqua Park – water slides and bowling

7.       Mini Gulf

8.       Jalil Al-Khayat mosque and St. Jousef Church are both a must see

Parks: You really shouldn't return unless you've visited all of these three parks as you will learn a lot about Kurdish people:

9.   Shanadar Park, here you can try the teleferique and visit the Shanadar cave where there is a display of Kurdish art. Also here you can buy postcards on Kurdistan



Minaret- Erbil, photo by Mohamad Sinjari, Flicker

10.   Martyr Sami Abdul Rahman Park:  The water features are beautiful, so is the music, kids' play ground and the new restaurant is SUPERB.

11.   Minaret Park: This is a must see, in particular in the evenings, because of its historic significance (Al-Mudhafaria Minaret). The water fountain with the lights makes a great backdrop for pictures

Tourist & Historic sites:

12.   Shaqlawa should be first on the list, the weather is beautiful even in summer, and the walk down the main street is refreshing (try the ice cream there and the nana kaysi too!! mmmm)

Shaqlawa, Picture by Shakwan, Flicker

13.   Bekhal,  the most beautiful waterfall

14.   Gali Ali Beg waterfall, here there are ducks and little boats that you can take under the waterfall, very close to Bekhal so will definitely need to visit

Gali Ali Beg, pic by One-Thirteen, Flicker

15.   The Cultural Museum

16.   Qalinj Agha Hill

17.   The Deween and Khanzad castles

18.   The Beston and Dian caves

19.   Harir Mountain Sculpture- goes back to 1^st century BC

20.   Rabban Biya Convent (Shekh Wesu Rahman)

21.   Jundiyan Resort

22.   Heran and Nazanin

This, by the way is a short list (and only in Erbil) I have missed many other places.

Bekhal, Picture by- Mohamad Gafori

The Must Try:

Masti Hawler

The Etiquette:

Forget about schedules and working by the clock. As much as we like to function with the time, the chances are you can't plan a lot here because everything happens all of the sudden.

When you sit around the dinner, the chances are you will be asked to try this, try that and eat more of that. You will hear "you didn't eat anything" even though you have had two plates of rice already! And "your hands can't reach the dish over there" even though you reached out three times.

Another tip, if you are on a diet: Forget it!! Diets don't work here, especially if you have come for a visit. You can always restart your Jenny Craig diet as soon as you land to the country you're coming from. You won't be able to resist the Dolma, nana tiri, brnj w shla or even the paqlawa. If you keep your diet you will regret it for years ahead. And plus, people will think you're being so awropi so be Kurdish instead and Bxo (Eat!).

Dolma anyone? Picture by Shakawan, Flicker

 When you visit expect to see many people. Even your aunt's neighbour might invite you for dinner

And now… the most important part! The afternoon nap, after lunch everyone goes to sleep in summer. Yes, at 1:30 people are sleeping till about 4 or 5 p.m. when life begins again. I still can't get used to this. But you, my dear reader, should make the most of this golden time of Silence. Email friends, write a diary, or load your pictures.  

I must admit it can be boring to see people sleep during the day for a good three hours, especially if you aren't used to it. Also, since people sleep during the day, at night they remain awake till well past midnight—but you can be a chicken like me and go to sleep at 10 p.m. and listen to all the stories that happened last night over breakfast the next day [sigh, and realize what you missed out on!].

What's Normal?*

Let me prepare you for some situations you may encounter and find weird. But these are totally normal here!

It is NORMAL to hear the horns of the cars as soon as the traffic light turns green.

It is NORMAL to wash the veranda with a hose.

It is NORMAL to be kissed 5 or 6 times by an elderly lady-- and for the kisses to be a little bit sloppy.

It is NORMAL for a man to have hundreds of dollars on a table in front of him in a busy Bazaar, for money exchange

Money Exchange in Erbil, Pic by American Crew, Flicker

It is NORMAL for politics to be the topic in almost every gathering

It is NORMAL for a taxi driver to get into the intimate details of your life

It is NORMAL to buy blockbuster movies for less than $2 USD.

 It is NORMAL for a woman to wear gold as much as her weight all at the same time

Picture by Rohat, Flicker- Gold store in Erbil


Another Gold Shop, picture by One-Thirteen, Flicker

It is NORMAL for the falafl to be put into the sandwich by hands

It is NORMAL to say "no you go in first" (through the door) and hear "oh no no no, you must go first" because "Baxwa nabet"

Words in Kurdish:

Don't ever try translate a sentence word for word from English and say it in Kurdish [I say this from experience] it will be a mockery! But these are few words to keep in mind, just so you don't get confused:

Yak Waraqa: means one paper, but it also refers to $100 USD.

Yak Daftar: means one notebook, but it also refers to $10 000

Monica: might be the name of girl, but it refers to the white four wheel drive looking car (I'm certainly not the right person to speak of car models. But you must know the Monica is a car!)

So, if the slot of land across the road is worth se daftar it is not worth three notebooks, but $30 000!

Normal Situations:

Also, since you are coming in summer there is going to be so many wedding parties (it's right after graduation season don't forget!) if you're single don't be offended if the following happen, because it is also NORMAL:

Your mother (bless her) or older sister points at every girl in the wedding and say "what do you think of her" in the ideal situation you are supposed to say "yes, she is beautiful, let's ask for her hand!" but the chances are they will be disappointed as you laugh it off. If you're a girl: It's NORMAL to hear naxsha la tu or may your turn be next. That is, your turn to be the bride!  

Other things to keep in mind: Kar [donkey] is a bad word; Sher [lion] is a good word. Ango is Hawlery and Ewa is Slemani (same with Ku and Chon). People will really pay attention to the words that you use, but then you can be like me and use every word that comes to your mind from every Kurdish dialect and people can't guess where your origins are.

Finally, you're supposed to laugh at the end of every Xoshnaw joke. But let me tell you this, the Xoshnaws are the most amazing people in this land, you will just have to come and see for yourself!  

What to take back?

I urge you to take back gifts and souvenirs from Kurdistan to the country you are from.  You're colleagues at work will appreciate a gift from your vacation and you will also be doing something good to Kurdistan.

For example, if you work at some government office the US and you take back for your colleague a little Minara or Qalat statue for their desk, how great would that be?

Or how proud would it be if a young British student in the UK had a Kurdish Klash for her key ring?  

The Kurdish carpets near the citadel cost less than $7 USD each, they make great gifts. The Kurdish hand bags that could be hanged on the walls are also good gift choices. While you're there buy some tasbeeh as well.

Carpets near Erbil Citadel, Pic by Mark Jutton, Flicker

Don't forget an XL Kurdish Flag that is available on 'Jaday Tarbiya' which is located at the top of Erbil's Doctor's Road (Shar'e Atubba). While you are there the shops have badges with the Kurdish flag. There is also a little corner shop on the same road that is designed to look like the citadel. But you will find great Kurdish souvenirs.

In Naza Mall, on the second floor, there is a shop that has handbags with the Kurdish Flag on it. They are under $15 USD.

In the Qaysari Bazaar, you can get key rings of the Kurdish Klash

Pic by Tara Beeban, Flicker

Now, if I am traveling abroad there is something that I am going to take a LOT of. They include the following

•           The map of Kurdistan
•           There are new small books that include all the tourist and historic sites in Kurdistan with pictures in Kurdish, Arabic and even English. I recommend a little book called: Your Guide to Iraqi Kurdistan Region, prepared by Sardar M. Abdulrahman and Hoshyar M. Khoshnaw!
•           There are little statues of the Citadel and Minaret that reflect on Kurdistan that can be found in the shop in the citadel, in Naza Mall or in the shops on Tarbiya Road, also near the citadel
•           In many of the jewelry shops there are little Kurdistan necklaces—highly recommended!



The book I am refering to, by Abdulrahman and Xoshnaw

 If you happen to have a friend who is thinking of returning back home, or you have a sister who is wondering how it would be to be living back in Kurdistan then you can also decide to take back "My Nest in Kurdistan" also available in some of the book shops across the Region. This is not advertising, I am just suggesting.  ;-)

Last but certainly not least. You MUST get a set of Kurdish clothing for you and whoever else is very special in your second country. I suggest as soon as you land, make arrangements to visit Tayrawa or the Qaysari Bazaar near the Citadel. Have a look and select the colours and material that you want and it will take up to two weeks sometimes for it to be ready to pick up. I recommend the Beirut shop opposite the Qaysari Bazaar, they sew the most stunning Kurdish clothes in all types of styles. That way, when you drop by to the citadel again before you depart (to buy your souvenirs) then you can pick up your new set of Jli Kurdi.

I hope you have an enjoyable vacation, welcome! Baxerben! Sar sar w sar chaw! You may now take off your seat belts 

*The ideas in this section are not all my own, thanks to some Twitter friends who started the enjoyable hash tag of #youknowyouareaKurd

Words from India to Kurdistan

Guest Blogger

Every now and then a reader somewhere, in some corner of the world drops an email. They say people alike always find each other, I won't say anything more, but after reading this you might realize why I might have found a sister in India. Shweta asked if it was okay to send something for the blog! And here is, an exact copy-paste of what she sent me to be published here! [It feels great to have a guest on your blog! and for all those times when I thought no one was reading my entries....]

To all the readers of Sazan’s blog *

A big heartfelt thank you to Sazan for letting me be her voice for today. Zor Supas (if I am not mistaken) I come from India, thousands of miles apart from you in distance but a neighbour or a friend to you in our culture and customs. But today I do not come to you to write about the wonders and similarities of our lands. I am 23 years old, and have gone through similar conditions what many Kurds have gone through. I was lucky, like few people in your land – to have parents who immediately shielded me and brought me up far away from trouble. And mind you, I say lucky with my parents – not because they took this step for me. No, any parent would always be there for their child. But my luck is attributed to the fact that my parents were there- alive to make them take this step for me. All I grew up with is happiness and harmony but never ever was I kept ignorant. I knew the trouble through stories always.

Far away from Kurdistan, and not at an age of understanding in 1988, I didn’t know about the tragedies, the genocide which took place there until much later. When I found out, I wept, tears and tears and kept asking myself why? Why did this happen? But my imagination couldn’t have prepared me for worse. With the advent of internet, I went on to youtube to find out if anyone had uploaded anything about Halabja. And even though you may consider me an outsider, and maybe I am one – I was shocked beyond words. Prior to this, I had only seen one picture, the one with the man shielding the child – that is the most famous picture I think. Even when the Indian media carried reports of the (Hated) Saddam capture and trial, that was the picture I saw. But now I saw hundreds and hundreds of pictures. Even a video – though I didn’t understand the language of what was being said, I can very well guess.  What I saw shook me to the core, it is impossible to have words to describe the inhumanity. It is a coward man who wants to hurt others for the sake of hurting. But I don’t understand what punishment could be enough for a man who killed innocent women and children. When I saw the video my hands shook as I tried to touch my laptop. Those innocent children – how could they die? What had they done? How could anyone have such a murder on his conscience? Even a lion doesn’t kill when he is not hungry. This man was worse than a wild beast? He couldn’t control his hunger to murder?

What haunted me the most was one picture.  A picture of a small girl carrying a child on her back and running on the road. Behind her there are masses of thick clouds. The girl is crying and the baby is clutching on to her. If you actually saw- this girl looks no more than 5 years old – if she is; that it is the maximum she can be. She is forced to be so mature as to pick up another tiny baby and run. Go to any other country and a child of 5 years will be treated like a baby – people will tell her not to cross the street, they will remind her not to speak to strangers, they will tell her to be home before dark, and tell her not to pick up her baby brother or sister too much because she herself is still so tiny. Here, the girl is holding onto the child and running. My concern was – who clicked her picture? Why didn’t that person save her? Or did he save her? Did he take her away and save them both? Is she alive now? Will she read my words, will she see Kurdistan standing and remember her sacrifice? Did she have a chance to see normalcy return to her beloved mountains and valleys? Or did she become a martyr like the thousands of others and we live today as a result of her sacrifice? 

I want her to live, I want her to have gone through this horrendous experience but still have survived. It is such a resilience that makes up Kurdistan and Kurdish folks. I know my sympathies will never be enough; my condolences will never fill the void. but hopefully my words will make you know that people are there by you, standing and watching with a lot of pride as you rebuild your beloved country. My deepest respects and bows to a wonderful nation and an even more wonderful brand of people. The world still stands the way it is, only because of you.

*I humbly count myself in the number of readers of Sazan’s blog. It is people like her who write with the ink of their hearts. Many seasoned and senior people have yet to get this quality in all their writings. My dear sister Sazan –you simply rock.

Shweta,

Test the taste buds in Kurdistan

To the greatest blog readers in the planet^

Baxerben! Sar sar o sar chaw for another entry!!

I'm going through an emotional turmoil so I resort to the blog to let out that frustration**

In my corner of the world a lot is going on. Of all the things that I can write about I decided to blog about FOOD!! Since I looked through this week's pictures taken by my phone the commonly appearing theme next to advertising was FOOD!  

On a social level, the exams are underway and surprise surprise no one is just outside the house and calling you to say: in 5 minutes we'll be at your house for a chay ! You also don't dare go to anyone's house, people are studying. So what do you do? Family Mall and Majidi Mall are bombarding with text message of their DASHKANDEN [SALE]! (Doesn't every girl adore that word?!) so good luck with trying to find parking there on a Thursday or Friday evening, because you won't find a single tiny space—even if you go on your bike.

Family Mall last Friday

The weather is getting warm. Life for me is a roller coaster and things aren't going as planned. But the wonderful life here and the vibrant culture is keeping me optimistic.

Here is how the Spring season goes in Kurdistan: Most of the month is about food. But not the typical food that you may eat everyday! 



Rewas

The above is Rewas, this you must try with a little bit of salt and you just peel and eat. It tastes great, and comes right from the mountains. Fresh. No presevatives. No nothing. It is only sold during this time of year.


A man selling Rewas on the way to Shaqlawa

  

Another natural plant on the mountain top-- pick and eat-- help yourself. If my notes are correct, this is chaw bazala



My village friend shows me Chwala--  picked from the tree-- and into your mouth directly

The picture below is also one taken at work. One of my colleagues (a very kind colleague, I must add) almost always brings in treats. So I tend to indulge in the melting of Kulicha in my mouth with sweet chay as I am writing reports on FGM, women's empowerment and planning life skill workshops for youth! I can just taste it, as I am looking at the picture. What is great about Kulicha is that it can suit everybody's taste buds, but I recommend the dates.  

Kulicha and chay

And this, my dear reader is the favourite of all. Oily bread with sugar. Yum Yum Yum!! The Hawleries do it best. The mother of the director of our organization is sweet enough to send some everynow and then. No forks or knives, I am there with my hands inside tearing it away 

Nana-ba-ron (bread 'n oil)

I know the ingreadients don't seem very appetizing, but believe me this is something that must be tried.

First you tear it, then you eat it.

 Then there is my good old friend- Falafl!! I have saved the best to the end. Here is the deal, Falafl should never be eaten in any of the high end restaurants or fast food shops. The best falafl is that you get near the citadel, where the man has sweat at the tip of his nose. Where he uses his hands to put the onion and tomatoe in the bread (but he does add the pickles with a spoon) and where there is no gloves or forks (eeew?-- well no, not really) because this guy makes probably 1 000 sandwhiches a day, and he has probably been doing it for a good 10 years as well. So, it tastes great, and I am still alive.

Falafl

Fresh Fruit... let's guess from Iran, Turkey and the apples from the U.S.? Maybe

Galamew-- for the perrrrefect Yapragh

As for the above pictures. Let's be honest. As Kurds we really don't care about five vegies and three fruits. There is no big issue on being on a diet (but I must point out here, most people who say they're are on a diet normally say it after they have Qozi for dinner and Baqlawa for dessert). Having said this, we love our Gndora (or I like to call it Kalak, AKA: rockmelon) and shooti (watermelon) especially if it is bought ba sharti shaqo-- you are allowed to break the watermelon right there and then. This way, you are you you're getting what you're looking for! 

^ This week I realized I have a young women following me all the way from India, an Indian with  passion for Kurdish culture! So Miss S.H. this entry is dedicated to you.

*the name shall remain anonymous, since I don't want to advertise for anyone!

**Ministry of Higher Education can really solve this matter right now.
All picture staken by me for the sake of this blog only

A Dream is Born

Dear: Most loyal blog readers on the WWW!!

"When I was a child my father would sit me on his lap and tell me, 'You will fly like a bird, to all countries and palces, you will become familair with the most amazing experiences. You will fly to have fun, to learn, to discover, to be adventurous and to find yourself, but in the end you will always go back to your nest.' By the nest he was clearly refering to Kurdistan. Years later, when I spread my wings and began to fly, fall, and fly again, I realize Dad's words were correct-- every single word."

This, my dear reader, is the little paragraph at the back of my book: "My Nest in Kurdistan".

May 16, 2011. The birth of one of the biggest achievements in my 21 year old life so far. It was a simple phone call. In fact a 30 second phone call, I can't remember much (fish memory!) but Kak Publisher asked me to visit when ever I had time. And of course I leave everything and rush out (what could be more important at that second?!).

Since then, what a week it has been! My book, "My Nest in Kurdistan" came to live.

My first look at the stack of books...

I get my share.

 I only have three pictures of my childhood years, and one in particular stands out to me (I just took a picture of it with my phone-- shows you how friendly I am with techonology. I could have easily scanned it!) I am lying on my tummy on a mountain top --surprise surprise-- with dad next to me, and there is a pen in my hand, and if its clear enough you can tell there is a paper also. Even when I was a child I seemed to be ahead of my years...

I was just telling my father how this exact scene in the picture above is repeated almost every single day in my life even now. I write in a little notepad or on the laptop, and dad is there with his chay ... we grow up, but somethings just never change!

When I look at those pictures of my childhood, they don't bring back memories. Nothing comes to mind except one occasion. Only one event from my childhood. I remember it clearly. A summer evening, before it was completely dark. Grandma was at our place, there was a knock at the door and within minutes we heard gunshots. I don't recall what happened in between, but I clearly see my mother grab my baby brother and we went under the stairs. We hid, holding each other tightly. My mother was crying. And the gunshots continued. Dad, we thought, was gone; we'd lost him. Four men had come on a mission to kill.

Not long ago, before the book was published, I went to see the bullet holes still on the walls of the house where we once lived. The house where I hid under the stairs, in the arms of my mother, listening to gunshots and thinking "dad is gone." After the silence outside, mom lost consciousness and I was on her chest, crying. Moments later, I saw my father with a large Kalashnikov over his shoulder, and then I fell into his arms. This is all I remember from my childhood.


  The second I saw my book, My Nest in Kurdistan, at the publishing house, dozens of them stacked on top of each other, that's what I remembered. Could it be, that same girl, who sat in fear under the stairs? That same girl refers to the same place as a Nest? Today, I feel as though my pen is a bullet. A soft bullet. A bullet of hope.

What was the most amazing part of this experience is that when I came home with about 75 of my personal copies of the book, on the way home I began to brainstorm all the people who I had to give a copy to. Back home on the kitchen table I wrote a list, and had to give priority of who are the individuals who I was going to dedicated a copy to.

Only on the kitchen table did I realize how lucky I am. I realized the number of people who have influenced my life. All those names who have inspired me, all those names who have touched my life in the simplest ways, but they have made the greatest difference. All those individuals who have inspired me-- from my little cousins Lava and Haval to Pura Gulizard at the Erbil Retirement Home. From my parents, to some of my Twitter friends. From my cousins, to well known Kurdish personalities. From my next door neighbours to decision makers at the state level.

 

(I did try to rotate this picture... [don't laugh] but I just couldn't figure out how to)



I wished to dedicate copies of the book to so many people, the elderly friends in the Retirement home, the men in the Erbil Retirement Garden, the man who looks after insane individuals in the back room of his Chaykhana, the gardener, the many women who I have met in the villages and on Kurdish mountains. The problem is that all these people can't read in English. These people, the simplest in the world, are those who have inspired me the most.

It is funny, the amount of books I have signed and dedicated to "my second parents" and "my sister..." many of the people who are close to me have adopted me as their daughter, and many others have become sisters over the years.

It was true. This book, an achievement of mine, could not have been possible without these individuals to believe in me, to encourage me with their words, and more importantly to inspire me! I don't think many of them realized how important they were in my life, in fact until I sat on the kitchen table I didn't realize there were this many of them.

Just before I finish off, thank you for all of you, my blog readers* for reading these entries! (By the way, now that the book is published, it doesn't mean you stop following the blog!)
When you're a Kurd, expect the unexpected.

* Zor Supas!!

(this is part of this week's "Memoirs" column in the Globe. It was written on two seperate days)

Village Life - Memoirs!

To my dearest, most loyal, and greatest readerS*

Let me introduce you to village life in Kurdistan

If I described the atmosphere to you right now as I am writing, you would envy me. It is dark, pitch black, but somehow you can just see the outline of a giant mountain in front of you in front of the dark sky. There's a gentle breeze, a little cold, but you can smell nature, and the earth after it has rained. Every now and then there is the mooing of the cows from our neighbor's place. The breeze and the sound of trees take me away. There's not a single star in the sky.

Above is a picture of me taken by M. M. as I was writing this, (on word, obviously there was no internet access)

Beside me is a fire, which we started with a few of the stack of wood on my left. Unlike any fire before, this burns rapidly -- must be the fresh bark -- and on it sits the tea pot, now charred black. Dad, like any typical Kurdish father, eagerly waits for the tea.

I wonder what the neighbors are doing right now.

This evening there is no television, there is no Internet and no phone calls or "beep, beep" sound of one text following the other: "Don't forget this, do that, bring this, fill that," and so on. This is exactly what I have purposely left behind. I have escaped the city life in Erbil and gone to heaven. Heaven, in my dictionary is nowhere else but in Kurdistan's own mountains, in one of its exquisite villages.

And look who welcomed me first...

As we arrived earlier today, I took a walk around this small village, I have already made many friends. In fact, you would, too. Almost everyone you say "hello" to insists you visit their homes. This is not one of those semi-developed villages. No, this is a real village, where people live in mud houses, there is a barrel outside with a tap attached for a sink and the toilet is outside -- you are lucky if there is a tin door (which by the way, never closes entirely), but usually a cloth covering acts as a door.

Through the walk, I began to wonder, and now, by the wood fire outside, I am beginning to think: Does life have to be that difficult? It does not. Here I am, at my happiest, with only the basic necessities.

Somewhere above the mountains of Kurdistan lays the village of Haladen-- Just by looking at it I remember the fresh oxygen I breathed in over there.

The people are lovely. They are polite. The people here are family you have never met. They are simple. The simplest you could ever imagine. What are these people, I wonder. Angels? Two minutes after meeting you, they would give you're their lives if you asked for it. These are the real Kurds that I know. Of course when you are a guest you can't by shy and must take everything you are offered (if you're thin--a little too thin-- like myself, then expect to be fed food enough for an entire month in one evening. "You need to eat my daughter, Alhamdulila har xwardn zora!" I remember one of the elderly man and his wife told me when I accepted to have only chay in their little house. (I must mention here, chay turned into mastaw, fruits, rewas, chay; rice, chicken; chay etc...)

Poora and Maama, they are my new aunt and uncle. As a total stranger they invited me inside their house, just as they saw me walking around the village

Earlier, for lunch, onions and celery, picked only steps away from where I am sitting. Today, I ate all sorts of wild things that you can only find in nature -- unwashed. Yogurt and milk come from the animals here -- not sure about the health issues though -- I could bid that the Poora and Mama I had dinner/ afternoon tea with (probably 75 to 80 year old) are stronger and healthier than I am.

The fresh mastaw

The Chay, rosary, Kurdish clothing...

When you are in a village in Kurdistan, you almost feel ashamed that you have too much, you realize that there is no need for everything that you have. If you are still wondering if you should get that Dior handbag or you don't have the new iPhone yet, then I remind you here, simplicity is everything. Good health is a priority.

Another Poora, pouring the third pyala of chay from the Samawar

As I am writing, little drops of rain are falling onto the keyboard, just in time, as I am finishing for today. Tonight I am not sleeping on my queen size bed, I am not watching BBC before bed nor am I putting a facial mask on looking like an alien from out of space** for 20 minutes. 

No. 

Tonight, as soon as I put my head on the pillow I will be asleep before I know it. No tossing and turning worrying about the stresses of tomorrow and brainstorming a check list in my head of what needs to be done. Here, on top of the mountains of Kurdistan, hidden in a small village surrounded by nature, I know tonight before reaching to count three sheep I will be fast asleep.

On that note, the cows seem to have fallen asleep. Nature says its bedtime. And you, still in the city, you're probably just about to open Facebook right now.

When Kurds say: Sar Sar o Sar Chaw, this is what they mean!!

So, you are welcome, sar sar o sar chaw this time next week to read another entry on my journey through the village that is above the clouds and over the mountains of Kurdistan. You don't believe me?

for a writer, this is heaven

*(S.I, H.S, L, K, B.A, A.S, .... sadly mum is no longer a fan!).  I wrote this last weekend, in a little trip I took to the village with my family. It was this weeks column in the Globe, but I thought I would share it with you here anyway, with some pictures as well.
All pictures, but one, were taken by me for this blog only :) somehow I am always thinking of you--even when I am in the village for vacation 

"No one dare touch my daughter"

To the greatest reader*

When I go missing for a while, you would probably realize by now that I get up to something.

Bale! Bale! Bale!

"I was a victim, but no one dare touch my daughter!"
One of the female participants in the awareness sessions, with her daughter. Observe the facial expressions closely....

And that's what I have been reading for the past few days now.

Paper after paper yelling out silent tears of "Bale" (Yes!) that is: Bale, I am circumcised.

Welcome to the miserable world of Female Genital Mutilation (FGM)--something that I have been working with closely in the recent weeks.

Aside from a health awareness campaign that we are currently undertaking for women in the Choman district in Erbil I have also been working on a survey we did at the Salahaddin girl's school. Basically on a piece of paper the girls wrote the occupation of their parents (not suprising almost every mother in that area was a housewife) and whether or not they had undergone the FGM process.  

As I was reading what they'd written my eyes filled with tears, a large number of the girls said they were circumcised. It’s either that I have a tenth senses or it was clear. I felt as though the words on the paper were silent screams, silent tears. For some reason I felt as though the handwriting of the girls
were telling a story. Could hand writing be emotional? (or am I just over emotional myself?!)


One of the papers received from the girls-- the last word reads: Bale

Whether we like it or not, FGM exists in some parts of the region. It's not smart to turn a blind eye on a phenomenon that is life shattering for many young girls. Which is why I am so proud of this project, especially because we managed to reach out to the village areas, reach out to women who don't even know the etiquette of talking in a group. Women and girls who had never attended a talk in their lives. Women who have not been given the chance to be educated--to gain awareness and knowledge. It's unfortunate that they are so negleted, because in other parts of the region it is not like that. But in the areas we are working in--borderline--there is neglect. Which is why it is worth the dedication that our team has put in- waking up 5 in the morning, and staying in the office till late evening hours to plan for the next day, to travel for over two hours for every session.

One of our members at the organization has an entire long list in their phone of Mulla A, Mulla X, Mulla Y etc... that is how it is. But it is all worth it. The six week campaign is almost ending, but I have this feeling that even the unmade  fetuses and unborn baby girls are smiling, and that, my dear reader makes it all worth more than you can ever imagine 

In one of our sessions where a doctor spoke to women in a village about FGM and after they watched a video we had a few of the women crying. I started to shiver. Despite all my sadness I managed to smile, I knew right then and there that we were changing lives.  Here is what we managed to understand from the sniffing, crying, women**:

Khadija (over 45 years old): [Sniffing] "My daughter keeps reminding me of the time I held her hand to the lady with the razor"

Gulabakh (in her 30s): [wiping a tear] "When we were circumcised, my friend, who was our neighbor was with me. She bled too much and then died!" (If you know Sazan well, at this point of listening to the story she is no sobbing—but I didn't.)

I have a question

So many women have been victims of breast cancer because by the time they detect something is definitely wrong it is too late. So the session on self examination has also been beneficial. Most of the participants spend a lot of time sharing stories of women they knew in their villages who died because of it. They are interested to learn, and that is a great help for us to be able to send the message through.

It's not all sweet. Due to the degree of sensitivity of the matter we are dealing with we have had our share of confrontations and negotiations. But the result that we get is amazing. We have been working in the village more than district itself. In one of them for example some of the women had never ever seen a gynecologist before--in fact 90% hadn't. We were listening to stories from the participants in our sessions that few months back a women died while giving birth. She could have easily lived, but how could she? No doctor, no trained midwife (and for god sakes in good old Kurdish there wasn't even the Mu'awen tubi—who basically works as a doctor!).

NOTE: I have to point out here that you shouldn't feel sad for a single second. We promise these women will have a gynecologist visiting them once a month free of charge to answer all their medical questions and do examinations (and we are trying to see if we can link up with a pharmacy so we can take medication too for those who need it).  

So! Back to why I am writing this entry today (back to the argument, can't go off topic). A large portion of the stack of surveys say 'bale'. But the surprise and amazement we witness on the expressions of the females is beyond what words can ever describe.

A pile of the girls' surveys on my desk. All giving the same information, whether or not they have gone through the FGM process. I learned that a large portion of my girls who I did the training were actually circumcized. By observing the surveys in the village surrouding Choman the numbers are.... well, very high, sadly

They don't do it because they are cruel. No! These women choose for their girls to undertake the process because they think that it is the right decision. The number of times we have heard mothers say: "If only you told me earlier, I wouldn’t have done it on my daughters" are infinite.  

When there are high school girls sitting and listening to the words of a doctor, a religious man and watching a video… you can just feel that you are changing lives right then and there. All the female fetuses in the wombs of their mothers don't need to fear going under the 'razor' for any reason.  

The women learn the science behind what is happening to the body and its consequences when that process is undertaken on a young girl. Just imagine, she is free but in chains at the same time. When they learn that no, it's not religion and no it doesn’t mean that the girl's food is haram to eat they won't do it on their daughters.

Education and knowledge is power.

Most, if not all of them, share the same silent pain. But through this awareness and knowledge, I can say with complete confidence their daughters are going to be FGM free. With complete confidence I write that of the 1200 women who we have held sessions for, will not allow for any of their daughters, sisters, grandchildren, nieces or even the neighbor's baby girl to undertake the procedure. Those days are over. That is accomplishment!  

If this entry put you in a 'blue' mood then wait for Saturday's entry! I promise it's going to be full of smiles. Tune in. By the way, I am still on with my project for my girls at the high schools.

*How do I know that you're great? Because you have chosen to take few minutes of your precious time to read this blog!

**Names changed

All pictures are taken by and belong to START Social Development Organization