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!
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