Goodbye to 'a good guy'

I guess you all know by now that this place is not really for the faint-hearted. Well, back sometime in October, when there were fewer of us, the great Lady S made a prediction on which of us would bolt first... and it was G (known by some as 'the good guy'). Unfortunately, her prediction came true and these are the pictures from his farewell (taken at the Turkish restaurant above New City shopping complex) - Note that this is MUCH delayed posting as he left only one month after coming back from Christmas (didn't waste time in giving notice). I didn't post as I was sort of hoping he'd return.

This picture is of course G himself, holding up a bottle of Pinkoo Gripe Water (part of some joke that probably only G and friends who share his twisted sense of humor will get).





By now you should all recognize the infamous Dr. Z as well... giving a toast with tea since such family establishments do not serve the usual poison.


G with T... T's friends in the US and Canada, please let her know that another lovely pic of her has been posted!

And now other guests pictured without G. This is newcomer Br... the New Yorker who can out-talk (over talk over) D, the other New Yorker... remember I LOVE NY! The other you will recognize as the lovely LADY S... who took some of these photos incidentally - most notably the next one which will likely be used someday to blackmail one or the other...

Oh, well done S! This captures Rh. in all of her girlish delighfulness and Al who you may not have seen here before... a definate 'diamond' in the rough.

Bird on a wire

Photo credit goes to Dr. S.

And us, perched on our olive brocade sofas in New City, we also have no idea how long we will be here in this surreal space caught between different extremes and not knowing in which direction to look...

Stars and Stripes

And I bet you all didn't know that Dr. Z was such a nationalist! I think this photo is priceless. Well done, Dr. S! The next one should show someone in front of a poster of Ataturk.

Take my picture, please!

These two photos were taken this last weekend at the bazaar. The boys are competing to weigh you for the price of a mere $250 Iraqi dinars (about 20 cents?).
This woman, on seeing the boys posing for a photo, asked that her photo also be taken.

Accidental Tourist in Kirkuk

(This post is also about the weekend before the one that just passed)

Although bursting with stories when I first got back to Hawler on Saturday, the 10th of February, I didn't manage to write it all down; about the coffee shop in Zagros mall where WOMEN were sitting on their own and drinking cappuccino, about the authentic Chinese restaurant (where subsequently Mu. now goes when he is there for business and Br has had his students take him), about the fact that there were only 5 hours of electricity per night in the motel and only a trickle of cold water from the bathroom showerhead... and most notably about the ride back to Hawler via KIRKUK!!!

Yes- somehow the road seemed straight and the journey too fast seeing as the 'safe' road from Sulemaniyah to Hawler bypasses Koya through the mountains and has a number of hairpin turns. Most people prefer this 3 hour journey to the straight 2 hour one that necessitates passing through Kirkuk. The driver was quite cocky and insisted that he was Peshmerga and knew all the right roads to take. He took me through Kirkuk as if we were touring famous sites at a vacation destination: On the left, please notice the Citadel, and now to the right is the bazaar (Would you like to stop - it's much cheaper than Hawler's) and those three menacing looking guys dressed in black poised over machine guns in the back of the truck - just Iraqi police! Seeing as the one with his pointed over the cab of the truck even had a black hood with only a slit for his eyes, perhaps you will understand why I didn't feel as calm as the driver.

Fortunately, we exited Kirkuk shortly after our police sighting and the driver spent the rest of the drive teaching me the Kurdish names for everything we passed; ker (donkey), cher (cow), bisin (goat), mar (sheep)...

Chia (Mt.) Azmar; Sulemani

Again I am late to post as these photos are from last weekend (and there are more to come from even further back than that... just waiting to get the photos from S and Z's respective cameras. These ones however come from mine! They are all from the mountaintops of Sulemiyah. The peak you see in the second photo is Mt. (Chia) Azmaar! I learned this from the driver (who spoke almost no English) on the way down to Sulemani... I was also informed where Talibani lives (at the foot of some mountains) and told a story which somehow connected Talibani (or some other high-ranking official with Mao Tse Tung! (Will have to get this story retold when a translator is present).

Anyway, I had a great time in the mountains as I met a SUV full of friendly people from Shinjian, China. I demonstrated to their child (possibly to the dismay of some local people) how to make snow angels and they told me where the Chinese restaurant was (most authentic non-Kurdish food I have had since my arrival in Kurdistan). Anyway, I am afraid I didn't get any photos of the groups of local men. with linked pinkies, dancing 'halai' to the music blaring from inside thier SUVs - next time!





Bad photo of me, but it was rather cold!

Coffee Cup Reading

Thanks to G, the head chef at the cafeteria, I now know that I am going to conceive and deliver twins in the very near future. My mother will be so happy to hear she is finally about to become a grandmother. Unfortunately, the events surrounding this event seem a little unlikely. The father is a shortish man whose name begins with K and we won't marry until after I am already pregnant... yet it isn't exactly a shotgun wedding as it seems the more important event is the pregnancy and not the wedding (but if you'd like to imagine the wedding, G claims I will wear a princess dress made of tuille, lace or some other sheer material). There were plenty of other life details, involving travel, a clear heart, a rising sun and etc... but I had a meeting to go to, so G shared his predictions with others instead of me - predictions leading to rumor and speculation regarding K's identity. To be honest, I don't anyone whose name starts with K, but I do know I need a book on Turkish coffee cup readings as I would prefer to be the reader rather than the readee.

stacks of cash

Only thing necessary to start your own currency exchange is a cardboard box, some money and lots of trust!
(Photo credit goes to Dr.S)

New City Running Club

Like many other expats, since I have come here, my fitness regime has been replaced with one of sleeping, drinking and recovering from colds or food-related illnesses (not just an excuse) . However, a few weeks ago, I saw a plump man in a track suit and plastic bathroom slippers jogging around the circular drive of New City Motel. This planted the seed of an idea in my head. If I were to get up and jog early early in the morning, maybe I too (even as a woman) could do this... especially if he could do it in bathroom slippers. I did this twice; the second attempt joined by D!

A few days later, I was coming home late and the big guy who inspired my jogging was out on the curb squatting over a grill. I looked over and he waved. A few minutes later, a young guy came over with a plate of grilled chicked from big guy's grill. I had noticed they were drinking something they poured out of a paper bag and went out to fill them up from my own stash of single malt. So they admitted they had seen me jogging and I admitted they had inspired it. So the next day at 6:45am, we all met in the drive to jog! Best excercise I'd had since arriving. Fortunately (or unfortuately) they have left now... and I have once again become unable to get out of bed before absolutely necessary.