Bimbalo Bazaar Jadesirwan

I’m not sure, but I think the title of this means “I want to go to the Citadel Market.” Anyway, it worked and the taxi driver took us to the right place. All day, S kept saying things like, “I love this place” and “This is the best city in the world!” Actually, I think we both had a GREAT day today. We bought a few silly things to make our motel rooms more livable; carpets, kilim wall hangings, wooden hangers, scarves (which we are using as table clothes, doilies, etc). The kilims and carpets were incredibly cheap! We didn’t have enough money and will have to go back; S has her sights on an incredible antique Persian runner for $50.00! And being a carpet enthusiast (hence knowing a good carpet when she sees one), she reckons the same thing would run about $1000.00 in Australia. (I saw some nice ones from Sulemaniyah- can't wait to go there).

After coming home, S wanted to return to the bazaar with more money, but instead we went to New City with T (pictured holding Kat Kat Tat... a sweet we saw advertised on a billboard on the way to the border). We collectively bought all the ingredients for ‘Mercimek Corbasi’ (Turkish lentil soup served with lemon, mint and paprika). It was fabulous! Unfortunately, T couldn’t partake as she was out with the conductor of the Iraqi Symphony Orchestra and a local poet, but will have hers tomorrow. S and I may return to the market tomorrow. Life is good.

Unpleasant and Highly Dirty (Friday, Oct 27th)

This was a comment on the food of in local street restaurants by one of the university staff... Perhaps that is why I had a bit of bit of a nasty day? The evening before I started feeling less than hot. At 2:00am, I had to get up for a small bout of projectile vomiting (no exageration)… and then again at 4:00am. The rest of the night was spent fighting the urge, although it probably would have been better to get whatever it was out of my system- some kind of virus undoubtedly. As I am not prone to vomiting, the cold sweat and faintness were unsettling. By morning (7:30) I was exhausted and texted S and T to ask to let them know I was ill (so they might help me get to the Korean hospital – apparently the best in the city). G, who actually knows where the hospital is, has no cell phone... and A, who speaks Kurdish, was clearly still sleeping. As it turns out, T was off to meet a friend – a human rights activist and editor of a left-leaning newspaper. I would love to tell you his story, but I am not at liberty in this public space. But S (although possibly disappointed we couldn’t go to the bazaar as planned) took care of me and I didn’t go to the hospital.

S. comes back from XX (Thursday Oct 26th)

So the night we came home, S’s dishes were left on her counter and her clothes still in the washer. We couldn’t reach her by mobile and of course, some of us panicked… just a little. But as it turns out, she got an invitation to visit XX. I didn’t go so I can’t write much about it, but it turns out that the experience was worth coming here for. XX is a refugee camp for Kurds from Turkey… but apparently there is also some affiliation with a local political party – something M didn’t know as she sat on the floor the clay/brick houses (with makeshift plastic sheet windows) with the locals, drinking their water, eating from plastic table clothes rolled out on the floor and listening as they sang and conversed in Kurdish. Total immersion… and the total opposite experience of those of us who were living high in Diyarbakir.

Taxi to Erbil (Wednesday, Oct 25)

If you ever have the chance to read the film by the same title, please comment here! My connection at home is such that I can't download anything and I often lose connection partway.

Anyway, so I am home safely. We started on our way at about 7:30am from our hotel in Diyarbakir. To be honest, I was a little eager to be back... as much as I had been enjoying the high living in our 4 star hotel. Our driver for the first part of the journey was the same driver (white minivan pictured) who took us to Hasankeyfe - someone arranged for us by Ahmed when he visited the mayor of Diyarbakir. This was one of the great parts of traveling as a group; the trip to the border is about 3-4 hours and $140 US. I think this would be the same cost as traveling alone by yellow cab. This time we took a different route that the way in- a route that seemed longer, but more picturesque including cotton and corn fields and the Syrian border. It was much like the North/South Korean border with two barbed fences with a no-man's-land protected by mines and military patrol in between. Syrian Kurdistan from this vantage point looked much the same as the Turkish side.

It was already about midday when we finally we reached the border and of course the customs officers were having lunch. As on the way in, we have to transfer to taxis with special permits for border crossing (you can't walk through). The taxis are $40 US to travel a very short distance, but they do all the paperwork for you, including photocopies of passports. So the taxi drivers all gather around the cusoms window jostling and fighting with each other... and when the officials do show up, the fight and jostle some more to be the first to slap the official on the back with one hand, shake the other and kiss on both cheeks. Many hands reach through the window and the processing starts. We pass through this and have our passports checked a few more times (although less than exiting Iraq) and continue on, stopping briefly at a point a little ways in for our own lunch.

We pass that area with the Iraqi flags flying and realize that it is essentially the point of the road closest to Mosul (maybe you'ver heard of it?). A sign indicates that it is only 20km in the another direction. We continue on. Who could have thought I would be so happy to see New CIty Motel. Home Sweet Home!

Almost missing Dr. Z

For those of you who have been followıng my blog, you will know all about Dr. Z, aka the 'sleepwalking bellringer'. What you don't know is that just before we departed for Diyarbakır, he left for Istanbul. Today, while sitting on the verandah of a cafe eating cake and ice cream and drinking coffee (something we won't be able to do tomorrow after leaving the Turkish part of Kurdistan), A called up Dr. Z. While I had been feeling tinges of envy that I could not afford to go as far as Istanbul, it seems that Dr. Z was there feeling bored and missing us! Is it possible? (Dr. Z, please feel free to post a comment and contradict me).

OK, the truth is that I am writing this to take my mind off the fact that I will leave tomorrow. SIGH! Today before cake, T and I shopped on the hıgh streets of the Ofis disrict and bought clothes that we would actually wear in London (no polyester). The shopkeeper, who we have named Modern Macho, called his friend from an office above the shop to help him speak English with us. We also received invitations to go clubbing later (which we declined)... Yet this didn't feel like harassment, just attention! Maybe when the upstairs English-speaking guy next visits Erbil (something he apparently does occassionally), we will invite him out to a nightclub... He should plan for 10 years later as that is how long it may take (no exageration) for a nightlife to appear in Erbil. At the moment, New City (which you all know well by now)seems to be the most happening hotspot! I think I will get offline now as we are off to dinner at a place with live musıc this evening. My next post will be from back in Iraqi Kurdistan. Wave goodbye to Diyarbakır. I will miss the friendly Internet guy who has taught me the intricacies of this foreign keyboard.

Good Eid to all!

It is Eid and the city is showing signs of increased energy already after just one day not started without breakfast. There are more children underfoot than pavements... all of them shouting and stuffing themselves with snacks from street vendors, setting off firecrackers, smoking (yes smoking - even those as little as 6 years old!), piling 2 and 3 together onto motorbikes... and most ubiqitous of all, shooting each other and passer-byers with toy guns... one good aim got me in the backside.

Of course many shops are shut today, so T and I went for a pleasant stroll along the city wall. The outer part of the wall is bordered with grass and park benches. Inside, the wall is lined with homes made of stone and plaster painted all sorts of pastel colors with contrasting wooden doors. The green, blue and pink paint somehow looking natural. Maybe because the colors, like the stone, feel cool (as do the courtyards the wooden doors open up into). Not belonging to these small communities, I feel a bit like a voyeur as we walk along these narrow streets.

On the way back, we stopped at Caravan Saray - a hotel which 500 years prior functıoned as a camel stop for travelers on theır way to Iraq and Iran. The man at the gate, Mehmet Nasip Önen, was proud to show us around and offer us tea. He (and his friend who worked in some capacity for UN peacekeepıng forces) were also keen to show us thir ID cards - whıch somehow proved that they were trusted by American and other journalists as guides to Iraq and the surroundıng area and were authorized to carry weapons.

After tea, we continued on, enjoyıng kebab in the street. And now? Now we are now safely esconsed ın the Internet cafe. Tomorrow we will shop as it will be the last chance before retuning to Iraqi Kurdistan.

Hasankeyf

There is a lot for me to cover in this post since Hasankeyf was beyond words, but I am lacking in knowledge and photographic evidence at this moment. Anyway, until I can do some research and download my pictures, I want to let you know that I went to thıs ancient place. Maybe I wıll get lucky and you will do my research for me and post it ın comments here. I found the blog of a photographer who went and stayed longer than I dıd - at least long enough to capture it before the blinding midday sun: http://www.hasankeyf.blogspot.com/

Cotton Fields 20km from Batman

Today A. rented a minivan and we all traveled together to Batman to pick up his brother, niece and cousin. Initially, we (T and I) wanted to opt out since tomorrow is Eid and we wanted another day to shop etc. I am so glad we didn't. We had a great time and saw a lot of the local landscape, not the least being the outer walls of Hasankeyf. Those pictures are coming.

Environs of Hotel Miroğlu

This is my second morning of waking up in a comfortable double bed in a room with matching decor. After tomorrow, Ramadan will be over and I will even be able to order coffee in the lobby any tıme I please to add to the luxury. It has only been two days, but already Erbil feels like something from days long past. The thought of returning makes me want not to travel and explore, but enjoy the smooth sıdewalks here - no need to skip over rubble... I can look longingly at designer sunglasses I can't afford in shops in the bazaar, buy cheap clothes (the ones in Erbil are from Turkey anyway)and spend evenings in restaurants serving cheap and incredibly delicious food ($3.00 US). The 'uniform' for women is much the same as Erbil, long-sleeved tops, full length skirts, headscarves (and even the occassıonal burka - but to a lesser percentage). However, the clothes are tighter, brighter... We pass ATMs and other signs of modernization (not to be confused with Westernization) on the street! We pass markets selling fresh vegetables, ıncluding greens and even fresh herbs. But best of all, music (Kurmanji folk and folk-modern) ıs playing, there are children running amok, girls sitting on the grass by the city wall and showing off their bazaar purchases to each other, women are laughing and people smıle and treat us in a friendly manner. No hostile stares, no hissing or spitting. I guess from this, you may be getting a picture of the less pleasing aspects of Erbil rather than the pleasant side of Diyarbakır.

Overland to Diyarbakır

So I made it the 9 hours of travel to Diyarbakır. In the fırst 3 hours, never had I seen so much naked land... grass not grass-like, but yellow-green lint collecting on a dusty blanket. Mountains lıke old men carved in stone and decorated with dust and shrubs; sharp corners dulled wıth age, half-shaven and with lips pulled back to reveal chipped, broken and missing teeth. Even the little patches of trees stand tight like military ranks with branches growıng straight up, leaving the land below naked and desolate.

We pass towns nested into hills or crouching unprotected on miles of open dust. Every now and then a surge of paranoia adds menace to a quiet scene when someone catches the glimpse of an Iraqi (not Kurdish)flag fluttering above the building shading some burka-ed woman or man in combats.

Dohuk, a city close to the Turkish border, ıs better... From there onwards, every cıty and town seems more colorful and and cheerful than Erbil (Hawler)... and inside, I believe almost all of us are silently deciding not to rush back before we need to.

Now I am in Diyarbakır,Turkey so may take a couple days off from postıng while I enjoy the freedom I have here (plus the Turkısh keyboard ıs frustratıng)... But I will share all the details of the border crossing and the rest soon. Eid gives us an entire week off!

Sitting Pretty

S and A test the fluorescent chartreuse sofa-bed at NC. I figure it is a better match for the chartreuse blinds in New City bungalows than the olive brocade ones...

Homage to the Silvery Boots

These are the infamously gorgeous boots (amongst their flashy footware friends). I told T I would buy them for her birthday, but if I do... it may be difficult to part with them. I posted this picture as the boots are one of the things I always stop to admire when I visit New City. Maybe later, I will sharpen my poetry skills and replace this description with a proper ode, so please check back later. (And note that I am a size 7.5 US)

Eggs

Do you dare to risk it? The eggs available here are sold in front of the shops lining the street from kindly gentlemen such as the one pictured here. As you can see, he was friendly even though I still haven't progressed much on the learning Kurdish front.

Would you be hesitant to buy unrefrigerated eggs? New City has refrigeration, but no eggs... So G has refused to buy any (although he eats omlettes in restaurants which presumedly get their eggs from the same place). And I thought that refrigeration was something more likely to bother North Americans. I mean, in England, they sell these wire chicken-shaped baskets in which to store your eggs on the countertop. I personally decided to risk the eggs sold by this street vendor, although I won't be eating them as runny as I might be inclined to in Canada. I haven't been sick so far, although I haven't bothered to brush my teeth with bottled water. G on the other hand, is looking ill. We will get him to the hospital today and hopefully it is nothing serious. Updates on this to come.

On New City Sidewalks...

So New City is not really a mall, but more of a delux supermarket... with clothes and furniture on the top floor. I think what everyone really needs to see is not the outside, but some of the wares. WOW! There is furniture from the 50s, from the Jetson's and an entire fluorescent green sofa/armchair set. Anyway, I now find the people that gather outside New City more interesting - including this boy selling ____________. Would you care to wager a guess?

New City...

Here it is (by popular demand)- the shopping mall where tons of people flock to every evening with as they have nothing more exciting to do than shop for silver and black stilletto heels (to be hidden under something more conservative) and groceries. Will things really change much after Ramadan? Anyway, please note the billboard - the only one of its kind in Erbil. Fortunately, I think it will be a while before Erbil can be seen from outer space (like HK or Tokyo).

Waiting for Godot

OK... so another LOUSY PHOTO... Fuzzy from movement, lack of light and too much wine. It does however, show the New City Motel to it's full advantage (no sarcasm intended) and constitutes the final post on the events of my brithday... So after the rooftop party, we went to A's room (from left to right, you can see S, Z, G, A and M's leg) to celebrate with wine and to wait for M's arrival. (You will remember that we saw her plane pass while at the restaurant sometime just after 6pm). When it reached 10pm, we started to feel like we were in fact waiting for Godot. Finally A called someone to ask what had become of the 'sexy English teacher from Florida'... He was informed that she was on her way, but in fact, she had been left at the airport to her own devices without a contact number for 3 hours. Poor thing. I don't know what I would have done in her position... especially since all the people in Istanbul had been asking her if she wasn't out of her mind to be coming here.

Sleepwalking Bellringer

This is Z, who has recently been joined by S to form the resident Freud Fan Club. They wore ID and EGO badges on their shirts for the latter part of the evening... Later (after M arrived) they were joined by a possible 3rd. The post is entitled Sleepwalking Bellringer as G claims that Z walked out of his bungalow in his sleep and rang G's bell. We have all been warned to be wary of late night bell-ringing.

As it turns out, I couldn't really sleep anyway after the excitement of the evening (and especially M's arrival) and frustration of work... which I mulled over (reading some books on curriculum planning) before sleeping. I was still awake to hear the call from the mosque sometime after 3am. Those fasting were having their pre-dawn snacks before another dry and hungry workday while Z purportedly subconsciously planned his next attack.

Worst Gift

Although not pictured, S (the head-and only staff-of the sociology department) gave me coffee and a pot for boiling it in (a la Turkish coffee). Surprisingly, it is not so easy to find coffee houses, or coffee here. I also received a surprising number of phone calls; from the UK, India, UAE... and an invitation to Dubai for Eid. I won't be able to make it, but perhaps T (pictured) will take that offer up? Anyway, I posted this picture of T because I thought she captured my mood for the evening more radiantly than I would have been able to show it. It is titled 'Wost Gift' because T's present to me was the start of a cold she has been suffering with all weekend.

nargile at the rooftop birthday party

So many people wanted to know how I celebrated my birthdat in lonely Hawler. Actually, it was not lonely because G (pictured) decided there should be a party. This is him enjoying nargile. The dinner was held at Erbil park - a huge park with a mini boating lake, a screen showing Hindi films (I think I mentioned this park in my 1st or 2nd post). Anyway, 8 of us had dinner on the rooftop and waved at M (a 4th English teacher)'s plane as it landed in the distance.

First Nobel prize for Turkey

Although this is a diary of life in Erbil, in truth, because of the Turkish contingency at New City, Turkish news is also of great interest... The talked about issue this weekend was Orphan Pamuk.

Z's celebration of Orhan Pamuk's Nobel prize was bittersweet... After it was announced, he spent the afternoon searching for news online. Unfortunately, he was dissapointed by Turkey's response. The papers claim that he embarassed Turkey via his political dissidence.

Anyway, you can read for yourself at the link provided and if you come to visit me, bring me some of his books. I have only ever read My name is Red. (However, you can bring that one too, because in truth, I didn't finish it).

A city for 1sts

Walking around, you can definately feel that you are in the middle of a rapidly changing, if somewhat conservative city. In the pages of 'the Kurdistan Globe' you come across news of first-ever-in-Kurdistan events: the opening of an ATM, a Western Union, the establishment of the first modern nursery school, the first 'modern' supermarket... And in the streets, it appears that geometric glass-curtained empty buildings with the tape still lining the windows have fallen from the sky to perch amongst crumbling clay buildings, ornate Islamic mosques and 8000 year old ruins.

I would love for people to come and visit me, but I couldn't even give you my address as most streets don't have names and directions are given via left and right turns. For example, the address given in the ad for 'Deutscher Hof Erbil' is: Ainkawa- After checkpoint, first street right, fourth street left, follow the sign on the street. There is no real postal service either. It feels that progress moves in fits and starts... the hesitation that remains from great adversity, of trying to decide if the risk of destruction is worth the effort of development? In any case, I was here for the opening of the first modern 'supermarket (with refridgeration!) and I am sure there will be many firsts over the next year.

That said, until a few more changes take place, there is not so much to in terms of social life/night life. People say that it is beacause it is Ramadan, but I know that it won't change much after it is over... but the company here at New City Motel is good. A cooks, Z provides wine and we all sit around and discuss politics, Freud, sociology, books, food and complain about the administration of the new university. Life could be worse. While waiting for further development, I also have time to read, study Kurdish and the script (Arabic), do yoga... and hopefully write my dissertation (once my books arrive).

Oxford Bookshop

Oxford Bookshop
For Buying & Selling, Computer Electronic Printing & Binding & Programing CD Copy
Owner: Abdulla Saleem Ahmed
Qassab Marcet (market), Opposide Erbil harmmacy (pharmacy), bata street, Erbil
Mobile : 4616113
Area Ph : 2508786

This is what is written on the business card of Oxford Bookshop. English teachers can buy many teaching and academic titles here. And I thought I wouldn't be able to buy anything to supplement my teaching, dissertation writing. I bought these 2 books on syllabus design for $6.00 USD... But I won't be returning to stock the university library because as the card suggests, these books were bought, copied, and bound by a copy center in Erbil and resold for this low low price as were all the books. We also found DVDs...

What we didn't find was books for learning Kurdish of any travel information on Kurdistan. B and I both noted this and M agreed that he had thought about writing something. Lonely Planet's Middle East guidebook has 1 paragraph on Erbil. M told us that Iran's in much better, but that it is outlawed in Iran. Travelers may take it into the country, but you won't find it sold there (except maybe in the same kind of photocopy/bootleg establishment).

Hospitality Club

Tonight we went to Ainkawa, the Christian district. It was too dark to see much, but it was different from the other areas. Local women were wearing short sleeved fitted tops and no head scarves. We went down some dark lanes to find the German restaurant/hof where we all had a pint of lager in ceramic beer steins for $5.00 each. This is fairly expensive seeing as you can get a 6 pack of 500 ml cans of Turkish beer in the shops here (like the one that supplied the Bordeaux for last night's party at A's house) for the same price. B says she doesn't attend A's gatherings anymore because unlike the rest of us idlers, she is busy studying about Kurdistan and writing in her journal, "Dear Diary, there is nothing at New City to help combat this incredible boredom..." (OK, now I am just copying G and making stuff up).

Anyway, this post is not about the neighbors, but is indirectly about the hospitality club. When I started to think seriously about coming to the University of Kurdistan, I started searching for people in the area with whom I could talk about the situation in Kurdistan - Is it safe, how is life for women, etc etc. When when I exhausted Skype, I joined the hospitality club and met M. M works in Ankawa as an engineer for an firm... Today we made our first phone contact and this evening after beer at the German place, we (G, B and I) walked to 'Happy Time' to eat and meet M. He explained about local culture a bit, confirming our suspicions that there is nothing to do in Hawler. However, we will meet again tomorrow at 10:30 and he will take us shopping for English books, pirated DVDs, and for me (Popeye) some spinach (which he claims to eat at least twice a week although I haven't seen it in the markets anywhere).

A clashing shade of green

This is a view of my temporary home. Although the photo is somewhat dark, you might be able to note the chartreuse blinds, the mint green walls, the olive brocade sofa and the forest green carpets.

Ala: difficulties of Western thought

Being smart isn't always enough, and being outspoken may be too much. Getting accepted into a UK university wasn't so hard for Ala. Although purportedly not truly understanding what IELTS was all about, she traveled to Jordan to sit the test as there is no IELTS center in Iraq. She received a 6 point average. This followed a 98% score on her final English exam in high school. Ala was noticeably proud of her acheivement, but clearly felt the need to explain the sting she felt at not being able to gain any recognition in her hometown of Kirkuk. Although top of her class, awards are not given to Kurdish students, especially ones whose fathers have been executed by the Iraqi government.

Now as an assistant lecturer in political science at Sulemaniyah University, Aya still hasn't managed to find acceptance or satisfaction. She descibes education there as a continuation of the Baathist rote-learning received in school. And for those who don't excell at recitation but still wish to pass, money or letters from high-ranking government officials are given to professors. She feels isolated on campus from all but a couple of American professors who encourage her although others have suggested that ideas from abroad are not applicable in the Middle East.

As for me, I am curious what those Western ideas were, but she says she thinks the University of Kurdistan offers a way forward; awarding for merit, critical thinking and problem solving. I hope this is true, but so far the methods for planning and developing this huge project are far from Western.

Istanbul - Hagia Sophia

People keep asking about Istanbul... a positive thing since it is a place I could conceivably go to meet up with people. It is easier even than going to other closer places in the Middle East for obvious reasons. Overland border crossings into Syria and Iran... not a good idea. And there are only flights from here to a few places. Anyway, my impression of Istanbul was much different than the picture I had developed from my high school encounters with it through the Romantic poets.

There is apparently some kind of law (says T my Turkish American neighbor) that if you build your house entirely at night (in one night), that it is legal- squatter's rights! I will check that 'fact' later with Z who, as it turns out, is not Turkish Kurdish as I previously claimed, but is in fact Turkish. It is said that Turks hate the Kurds and therefore, it is unusual that he is here... but it seems that when he was a journalist for an English paper in Istanbul, so he was probably interested in all sorts of 'subversive' things like human rights (Kurds in Turkey are not allowed to have Kurdish names even), so that is perhaps partial explanation. More about all of this later. But more to the point that I was trying to get at in this post (before I went to celebrate a successful trip to the Christian area for alcohol and lost my train of thought) is that Istanbul is far more 'Asia-like' than I had expected. The photos in the series are in a tiny area of a huge and sprawling city.

Istanbul - Hagia Sophia from the Blue Mosque

Istanbul - Cherry Juice Seller

Istanbul - Blue Mosque (Sultan Ahmet Camii)

This is the last photo I will post of Istanbul. I wasn't there long enough to say or post anymore (or awake enough to take any good photos). The one day I was there, I got up late and searched for the post office, a little room in the basement of a building with no obvious signposting, then as it was raining, I bought a cheap umbrella on the street and went with employer and wife to Blue Mosque/Hagia Sophia by taxi. Because of Ramadan traffic, it took so long to get there, that we only really had less than half an hour before heading back to the hotel/airport. To make things worse, I left my umbrella in the taxi.

If you are interested, G took some GREAT photos of Istanbul which I can try to mail you if we ever get a faster internet connection.

Acknowledgement

This is just to acknowledge that the title of this blog was suggested by friend C. You can find her by following the trail from her comment on Day 2 post! Thank you , Thank you! If it weren't for you, this blog might be called "the Hawler Howler".

New City Opens!

It was a big day for everyone at New City Motel today. After only 2 days, I was starting to understand why people kept saying they were bored of eating. There really isn't much variety in the local shops: very salty feta cheese, bread of a dryish consistency, olives, lamb kebab, pickled veg, tomatoes and cucumber... If you want a treat, there is baklava, crackers and biscuits, 7-up, and ice cream at the little ice cream parlors where men here gather instead of pubs.

So at 4:00pm, B and I ventured over to the market... WOW! Not only could we get frozen paratha from India, cherry juice from Turkey and about every condiment Lea & Perrin produces, we could ask for things in English. SOme of the staff were Philippino and apparently came over here just to work at New City.

Tonight, we will celebrate. In festive spirits, G, Z (a Turkish Kurd who has come to be part of the academic staff) and ? (another professor and an overseas Iraqi Kurd from the US) have gone to the Christian district to buy alcohol. I think they are bringing back beer for me as well. It can't be bought in the shops that usually carry it around here as it is Ramadan. The call to prayer can in fact be heard now!

Day 2

I woke up this morning to meet my driver and be taken to the University, a big brand new building which is largely empty although there is furniture which waits to be unpacked and used... but there is a lot of confusion as to what to do and when. Many of the staff have great experience, but not necessarily the experience to do the job they were hired to do. So as you may guess, there is not a lot getting done. Seems the primary job of English teachers at work is finding ways to keep occupied and/or dying of boredom. This wasn't a problem for me as it was my first day. I planned my strategy for revising and making suggestions.

At about 4:00 pm, we left and came home for naps in our separate garish bungalows. Sleeping is apparently is the most popular pastime of instructors here. Woke up to the call to prayer and got up to go shopping in the small stalls lining the streets (yogurt, feta cheese, bread, figs and bananas - food is simple) . The sidewalks are broken, there are no streetlights or crosswalks, and the cars travel pretty quickly, so the 10 minutes to the main street where the shops are is a scary walk. On the way we pass a huge shiny partially glass building with two beams sweeping the sky from its rooftop! It seems so out of place, but is a sign of things to come. Through the glass we can see a kind of western looking supermarket on the ground floor, clothes and housewares on the second and a Turkish restaurant on the top. Staff sit outside wearing black and yellow uniforms, yet the complex isn't open yet. And we come to the second most popular pastime of U of K staffers - speculation. They have been told that this complex will open in 2 days. They were told this 2 days ago, and 2 days before that, and 5 days before that... It is much the same way answers at the university are given.

Last night's posting delayed - part 3

Final thoughts
It’s 3am and I am dead tired, but not sure how well I will sleep… I am worried that I didn’t prepare any cash and I am desperate for Internet and a phone card. Also thinking about what life here will be like. Certainly less busy than Taipei and cheaper than London, but with some of the grungy down-sides of each. There was a big cockroach on an outside wall as I came back to my room. Hopefully they will stay outside. I would like to buy some cleaning supplies, hangers and roomy kameez-style blouses tomorrow. I will also include candles. The power shut off twice already between the time I came back and now. But the generators seem to come on pretty quickly. I checked the freezer and there is ice there, so they can’t really go out for long. I unpacked my stuff and I think it is time to sleep… There is lots more to tell, mostly about G and B’s impressions of this place, but I just can’t until I get some sleep. They already seem pretty jaded and they have only been less than 1 month. Guess they are ready for something to happen.

Last night's posting delayed - part 2

Fellow Instructors
The driver knocked on G's door and he came out to meet me. A young British man wearing a T-shirt and khaki shorts and head shaved near bald. Then we knocked on B's door... the woman from Cardiff who I met just before she left for here. They seemed bored... bored by my arrival, bored in general? I don't know, but the thrill of being in Kurdistan had clearly worn off already for them. In any case, they invited me out for dinner for my first night. We showed a driver a paper with the name of a park written on it. (It took me 5 times however to understand that G was saying 'park' and not 'pub'), It was hard to see anything as it was quite dark, but the park seemed quite expansive. There was a large screen with local TV on and a loudspeaker blaring… this competing with music blaring from a speaker in another location of the park. We wandered until we found the restaurant, which was a little building with stairs up to a rooftop where people were drinking and dining. (Good I arrived at night as it is still Ramadan). G and B say that this is the best restaurant in Hawler and the only one where B who is vegetarian can eat. They brought us 2 big plates each with 3 kinds of antipasti. Then we had omelets filled with stewed vegetables and a plate of chips, 2 teas and a coke, and G smoked a water pipe. All of this came at $27 US. We then wandered for what seemed like hours trying to find a taxi to get us back. We arproached a man in combats and a machine gum who was guarding the entrace of the park, but he just waved us off in the direction of the road saying, 'taxi, taxi'. While we floundered about helplessly jumping between 6 lanes of traffic, the guard started an intense conversation with the driver of a truck parked inside the park gate and waved us over... just as he wastrying to explain the other guard would take us, a taxi came.

Last night's posting delayed - part 1

Flight TTH31
Sometime around 7:00pm this evening, the plane left Turkey and entered Kurdish airspace, previously a no-fly zone. It was spooky as the horizon to both sides of the plane appeared to be obscured by a hazy grey opaque almost oily looking blanket with only a think line of orange above separating it from the darkening sky. The land visible between breaks in the clouds was dark also, geometric shapes in black and brown. The sky grew black before we landed and it seemed the plane circled forever over land that appeared not to be properly lit (this is definately not HK), but looked like a pattern for a kilim carpet outlined in glitter. “Welcome, welcome… Meezan-ah,” gushed the customs official as he examined my passport. A friendly face in contrast with the ominus feeling that had been gathering in the pit of my stomach.

We struggled to lift and shift our luggage – I alone had about 60 kgs (and $300 US in excess baggage fees just from Istanbul) – and took a shuttle out to the main gate. For security reasons, only travelers can enter the main area. The shuttle took us out past a box-shaped restaurant in front of which were clusters and lines of mournful looking women in burkas seated and still on the ground. A fellow traveler surmised they were refugees, but was informed instead that they were Arabs from the south on their way to Mecca. Next plane to Saudi not till tomorrow.

City Motel: My New Home
Seems for the next 3 months I will live on this compound… little bungalows that are part of a ‘motel’. My main room has about 4 clashing shades of green, a TV and a kitchenette with fridge and 2 gas burners. My bathroom has a sink with a wobbly faucet, shower, toilet, and my bedroom has an ironing board and iron, wardrobe, dresser and twin beds. I was informed that the pastime of most of the inhabitants at the compound is sleeping as there isn’t much else to do.