Akdamar Island

Welcome to Akdamar Island and the Chucch of the Holy Cross. There are the ruins of a monestary here that was built duing 915-922 AD, but this church was built later in 1296-1333. The bell tower was addedd in 1763. There is a story about an Armenian prince who had fled here, but the sotry which sticks in the memory is of a beautiful woman in the charge of the monks named Tamara and her lover who drowned trying to visit her. The words "Oh Tamara" became the name of the island "Akdamar".
The church is decorated with stories from the scriptures, stories of the lives of the locals at the times and with animals. The close up shown in the second photo depicts David and Goliath.
The third picture is of a stone (headstone) which shows the amount of detail in some of the stonework.



Inside the church... there are lots of bluish fading pictures of disciples and...


And the final picture is one taken on leaving the island. The boy kept trying to take photos of himself with the Turkish flag using his cellphone. A little humourous as everywhere on hillsides you can see the symbol from the Turkish flag with words I have been told mean "Proud to be Turkish".

Çavuştepe Kalesi

Çavuştepe Kalesi was my first visit to a Castle in "North Kurdistan". This Urartu (Ararat) ruin was constructed some time between the 13th to 7th Century BC! Although some of the stones remaining were the originals unearthed partlially by American archaeologists, some others were reconstructions... including the cuneiform writing on some of the bricks which was borrowed from the Assyrians, with whom the Urartians were at war with (is this correct?) Eventually, the Urartians fell and the Armenians settled... By the 6th C BC, the area was governed by Persian rule... and so on... (Was it two centuries later when the Arabs came and the Armenian prince fled to Akdamar?)

This ruin is famous as it is the best preserved foundations showing an advanced system of hydro engineering; water storage and as you can see in the second photo, the oldest ever excavated toilet!

The final picture shows what the castle might have looked like way back in the 13th Century BC.

Hoşap Kalesi

I haven't so much to say about this - the third stop and second castle of the day! It is not in the same state of ruin as Çavuştepe, perhaps because it was built relatively recently- in 1643 by the Kurdish Mahmudi Suleyman.
It was locked and we couldn't enter, but I think the best view was from the road anyway.
And this final picture is of a young boy trying to sell ozeliks his mother made. I don't actually know what the correct spelling is or what they are for, but I imagine it is for some form of protection... Information anyone?

Van Kalesi @ Sunset

Van Castle - 9th Century BC, another example of Urartu ruins, was the last stop of a long day of sight seeing. It is situated at the edge of Van and seems to be a popular spot for locals on picnics as there is a large park at the foot of the castle. We didn't stop however, to snack or relax, it was a brisk hike up the "mountain" to catch the sunset over Van and the ancient Tushpa plains.

After sightseeing, we stopped before coming to the center of town for dinner at a place called Hanedan Sofrasi - a restaurant perched above a huge Migros. I write this here so that if I return to Van, I can revisit. Although not particularly special, the facility was clean and the Ayran Corbasi was GREAT!

Otogar to Otogar

(Come back and read these later as I wıll be postıng pıcs and fıxıng the language later - fındıng ıt dıffıcult to thınk AND type on thıs Turkısh keyboard.)

Today marks the end of a long extremely hot and dusty 2-day journey overland from Erbil to Van ( a city on the east coast of Turkey).

Who knew the border crossing would be so much worse this time? Thanks to Vin who recommended a taxi driver, we (B and I) rode all the way in comfort in an air-conditioned cab ınstead of squashed together with 2 others in an old dusty one... the killer was the 2 hour border crossing where we inched along a bridge under the scorching sun, waiting our turn to go through the first of 2 checks on the Turkish side (having already completed many of the Iraqi side).Unfortunately, being women, we did not have the luxury the men had of squatting between the tires of the lorries for shade. Finally we arrived in Silopi at the Otogar but as there were no buses to Van until the morning, we took a bus to Dıyarbakır... and then spend another entire day on the road to Van.

Now I am ın Van and wıll start my vacatıon. (Donit ask me how I chose Van...normally, I do a Google ımage search for places I am consıdering, but Van was impossıble - a search just brıngs up motor vehıcles ın Turkey or vehıcles contaınıng turkeys...) So I came based on the fact that ıt was described as a modern city (a place to go to the gym and buy necessıtıes not avaılable ın Hawler?) ın additıon to beıng a jumpıng off poınt for travellıng. But as ıt turns out,Van is really rather small... I donit thınk I wıll lıkely fınd a gym, but B wasable to fınd her contact lens solutıon and mıgrane tablets. For tomorrow and the followıng day, vısıts to lots of famous sıtes are planned...lıke the sıte of Noah, Ark (Mt.Ararat), some castles and Armenıan churches. But for tonıght,I am goıng to relax ın the hotel lobby and maybe even have a beer to celebrate arrıval!

Staying Cool

This morning I got up to honor a 9:00am appointment with a student. At the time I was supposed to leave, I could not find my keys anywhere... I spend about 5 minutes that felt like an eternity looking for them (as you know, I don't have the option of leaving the door unlocked). Anyway, finally, I opened the door only to realize I had left them in the door all night. Anyway, along with the keys was a little note from TF saying that... Yes, I left my keys in the door all night... and goodbye until September.

W in Tokyo asked about summer holidays here... What can I say? CW has gone back to Canada, Tf and Paddy left yesterday; one for Turkey and the other for somewhere in the UK. K is off to the US via Jordan and B and I will share a cab into Turkey before she goes on her way. I on the other, need to be back in a week or so. Anyway, in answer to her question as to what people do over the holidays here, the answer would be that they try to stay cool... literally. They go to the mountains, they try to find a reasonably clean swimming pool, or they stay home and sleep.

Police offer tea and cigarettes

After shopping today, Tf made lunch and as Paddy decided to come, Tf asked to serve it as my flat (it being marginally cleaner than his own). Lunch, although good, was not really much to blog about... but lunch conversation was. Paddy, the guy who was held at the police station for 12 hours filled in the story (posted yesterday). Seems he came home at about 1:00 AM, but after climbing over the wall, walking across the grounds and approaching our block, he noticed 2 guards with their guns up and aimed at him. He held his arms away from his sides and stopped. They guards took him to the police and took away his phone. It seems they (and not Paddy) were the ones who called Tf at 3:40 AM in random calls to everyone in his recent call list. Seems however, that they didn't treat his so badly: he was offered a room with a mattress to rest in, tea and cigarettes.

Tf cheers Iraq on to victory in his green jersey

Since I am not really a fan of football (soccer) - or for that matter any form of spectator sport, I can't tell you who the player holding up the football jersey is. However, I can tell you today is a big day for Iraqi sport. Iraq beat Korea 4:3 today to take their place in the Asian Cup finals for the first time EVER!

And today was my first time ever to Hawler's sports market. It is near the main market pretty much under ???? hotel. It was filled with football jerseys, balls, a few iffy-looking treadmills with those bands for jiggling off tummy fat attached, and lots of sport shoes, both real and fake (You save a lot of money by forgoing the final "l" and buying Diese footwear). I bought a set of 3kg hand weights and Tf picked up his green Iraq jersey complete with his name and favorite number 7 ironed onto the back. I presume he was wearing it when Iraq scored that fourth goal.

School's OUT!

Well, today was the last day of work, and it has been interesting to say the least. The exam results were given out on Monday. The smallish number of students who passed ALL of their exams and were assigned a department were happy, overwhelmed, emotional - some nearly to the point of tears. One student said to all of his teachers (individually of course), You're the best teacher I ever had!

Unfortunately, the response of those who didn't pass all the exams - those required to rewrite one or more of their exams in September - was equally emotional. Yesterday and much of today were taken up with appeals... TONS of them. Some students went to all the teachers (even ones who didn't teach them) several times each trying to get their grades changed. Only a paltry few admitted that failure to reach the required level on such-and-such an exam might possibly be linked to something they had done or failed to do. The majority did everything from suggest that the marks were unfair on the grounds that other less clever students got better marks, accuse the teacher of acting on a personal dislike of a particular student, beg to have their exam marks altered... and one or two even went as far as to threaten to go to Baghdad and walk along RPG alleys (with the consequences falling on our heads). A few students (with political/social status?) tried unsuccessfully to go over our heads and get the dean to order us to pass them without rewrites.

As I can't say that I have ever had this experience before, it causes me to wonder how grades are assigned in other institutions here.

Detained...

I am afraid that MY version of today's story is not the most interesting angle (not being the detainee), but I shall share it nonetheless. B and I arrived back at the gates to Naz City early today as it was the last day of work... and as we were getting out of the taxi, the security guard rushed up to us and asked if we spoke Kurdish, Kurdi dazani? I replied that we didn't, but he continued talking rapidly anyway. All I was able to catch were the odd words: mamosta (teacher), Sallahadin (name of an area), asaish (police station) being the main ones.... oh yes, and the name of our University. We explained that we didn't teach at Sallahadin and went back to our block where we ran into Tf. After hearing our story, he told us that at 3:40-something AM, he had missed a phone call from another teacher with whom we had all been out at the Edge with earlier in the evening... and whom none of us had seen since the time when we left the bar.

2+2=___.

Anyway, we all went back to the front gate and had the guard talk to a Kurdish university administrator over my mobile. After hanging up, he apologized and attempted explaining the situation again. This time, armed with new information and assisted by the guard's emphatic guesturing, we were able to understand that the teacher had come back late. And rather than walk around the huge complex to the entrance, he climbed over the wall, was seized by guards and taken to the Police Station. The police took away all his things (including his phone) and so he sat there from 3:40-something AM until approximately 2:00 PM today when admin went to rescue him. I guess it is good to know that security is stricter with people climbing into the complex than people climbing from apartment to apartment over balconies (Scroll down to July 13th).

You're NOBODY without...

MONICA. The picture of the row of white Toyota Landcruisers (Monicas) is taken in front of Erbil's very own fake Sheraton (featured in some of the posts on this blog)! And I am a faker too because I didn't take this photo, but rather poached it from the TIME Middle East blog. In his post, A.L. Butters unintentionally answers a question I posted in this blog less than a month prior to his article.


And what Mr. Butters writes in the latter half of his article is true. A close friend recently has decided to take another project in Kurdistan -after a period of business inactivity in this region... but that means he must also start thinking about purchasing another Monica because as he explained, "No one will take you seriously without one!"

Thursdays in Hawler

Yes, I am aware that it is in fact Sunday, but as I didn't post over the weekend, I am catching up. Thursdays are the first day of the weekend for most people in the Middle East, but is the last day of the work week for us at the Uni. Every Thursdays at about 6:30 or 7:00pm, there is a shuttle from our accomodations to a supermarket chosen by popular consensus. I usually don't go, but this week, I decided that maybe it would be more convenient to cart the groceries with a more sympathetic driver than a taxi hailed from the side of the road. And mabe I would join Tf and Vi in the now routine Thursday night trips to the Edge. But as is also usual for a Thursday, I arrived home completely exhausted, and unfortunately fell asleep and missed both weekly events.

Bottom Feeders - From Carp to Catfish

Scallops, prawns, oysters, red snapper, tuna, salmon... lately I have been craving fish. Not such a good thing to crave in the middle of a dusty desert. Here, most of the food is heavily meat-based (think kebab)... even other food like kefta, dolma and lahmajun are made with, filled with or covered with mutton or lamb. Sigh! I have even relented and taken to eating it when chicken or vegetarian dishes are not an option.

But occasionally, when eating out, I can order fish. However, this fish - a local river fish - is filled with little bones that seem to be entirely disconnected from the spine of the fish (hence impossible to easily remove). A little research would seem to indicate that this fish (which local people have as yet to confirm for me) is carp... a fish I never would have eaten even while living in North East Asia as it is a bottom-feeder.

Hence whenever I see something "exotic" in the supermarkets, I snap it up, even if I don't know what it is. Last week I saw frozen fillets in Aya supermarket and thinking that this might be bass, I bought it. I even cooked it as bass (which, although edible, wasn't so nice as the flesh wasn't as white or as nice a texture). As an afterthought I decided to check the wrapper and discovered that it was actually "Basa" not bass and that it was from Malaysia. I looked it up. Turns out that this is a kind of catfish originally from the Mekong Delta. Fishermen keep them in cages tied to the stilts keeping their houses above water. Great... ANOTHER BOTTOM FEEDER! (Just what Kurdistan needs)

This picture actually has nothing to do with the post. I post this picture for my mother's benefit since she might be amused to find that in the past 3 weeks, Canadian canned fish (tuna, oysters, mussels and herring) from her little Maritime province are suddenly available in every supermarket!

After the glorious uprising of 1991...

The title of this post is a line that appears in perhaps 80% (no exaggeration) of the essays I receive from students, no matter what the topic -- gender relations, globalization and migration, technology, education... even advertising! But despite the fact that almost all students (for obvious reasons) frequently refer to the uprising of 1991 and wear their nationalism on clear display , of course they vary greatly with regards to their optimism or lack thereof for the future of Kurdistan and their opinions concerning US involvement in Iraq. Having just completed reading the final round of essays from this year's lot, I decided to remind myself of this by posting links to stories referencing the uprising by the WASHINGTON POST and NOW TORONTO.

Nesting

Many residents don't really like the accomodations here at Naz City, but I am not one of them. It is true, the complex is far away from everything... including the reality of life for most in Kurdistan. (Please note here, that I would be equally happy in a villa in a regular residential part of Hawler, complete with only partial electricity and Hawleri neighbours)! But I am happy to be out of New City where I felt like the owners were like my jailers.

Although this apartment is only on temporary loan until I either decide to leave or fate decides it for me, I have accumulated enough stuff to make the apartment (despite the fact that it is identical to everyone else's) feel like my own. Perhaps it is due to the Kurdish rugs (again many of us have purchased a few - or more), strange gifts from Sol that I have carted back from Paris, some books, and the contents of the kitchen cupboards- contents consisting of wierd things (or at least not common in Hawler) that I go to several different supermarkets to puchase; coconut milk, balsamic vinegar, tamarind and saffron from Aya, microwave popcorn from New City, baking supplies, brown sugar and Italian tortellini from Barz Rose and of course the staples from Nazaa Mall.

Anyway, for those of you who want to know what the place looks like, here are a few photos:The picture above is the view to the left (from my living room balcony). The sun comes up in the gap between the two buildings. It is roughly the direction of Ankawa. And of course the picture below is the pool.
Below is my living room. Yes, the gold sofas, curtains etc might not have been my choice, but after removal of the sofa cushions, the sofa is actually quite comfortable to sleep on. (The floors are a real pain to keep clean given that great amounts of dust/sand blow in whenever the doors/windows are open).
And the two photos following are of the kitchen. It is quite large and I would like to get a white plastic picnic table and chairs to put in front of the window... Plastic so that I could also move it all to the balcony and maybe take advantage of the built-in barbecue there. (I haven't done this yet as everytime I go on the balcony in the evening, the mosquitos are the only creatures partying).
The final photo is of the master bedroom. It is too big to get a full view, but the doors on the right are those to the walk-in closet. The photo is taken from inside the ensuit. Aside from this, there are 3 other rooms; a spare bedroom (minus furniture), a smaller room which I use to dry and iron my laundry in... and an office space which is as yet unused due to inadequate lighting. Will post pictures of those rooms if I ever get around to cleaning them.

Monday Morning in Kirkuk

"Please can't you tell me if I passed reading? I am going home today and won't be here to collect my marks next Monday..." Many of the students come to us IMMEDIATELY after taking their last exam requesting to know their final scores (as it we could have marked them in the 2 minute gap between collecting the papers and walking to our offices)- scores we don't give out until a week after the exams. So I told D, a Kirkuki, to go home and I would email him his results so he wouldn't have to come back from Kirkuk - a place I have only passed through on the way to Sulemaniya... The scary thing is pictures below (taken today) are of the road I passed through Kirkuk on... and which Mu takes 2-4 times a week... and which I hope D wasn't on today.
85 dead and 180 injured have been counted so far from this morning's triple bombing in Kirkuk. This truck carried one of those bombs. Some of the people who died were those trapped in a bus that caught on fire.
As I can't bear the photos of people, the below photo appears to be of a cow being carried away from the scene on a make-shift stretcher.

These photos are from Mu's friend Mu, who for some reason was working from my house for part of today - a journalist receiving photos from Kirkuk via the internet and giving live interviews over the telephone. I am almost too scared to watch the news because the death toll climbs hour by hour (I guess it will reach 200) and some of the photos received from Kirkuk were too gruesome to mention or post here. Reading the news doesn't offer much food for optimism. Instead of the news tonight, I will read D's essay on the Arabization of Kirkuk, Article 140 and why he believes it should be implemented without delay.

Braving the heat

The Iraqi sun is hot and Hawleri residents range in suntan color from as pale as a parasol-toting Korean girl to as dark as some in the South of India. And although half my blood is Indian, I have stayed a 'nice' yellowish colour since my arrival here. Generally staying well covered up to avoid a shameful exposure of skin doesn't really lead to summer comfort or a good tan. Today I decided to brave the heat... and the shame of being seen in a swimsuit during daylight hours. At about noon, Tf and I went for a swim. We have noted that from about 11:30am until about 2pm, all the residents of Hawler seem to be home (or somewhere hidden)indulging in a little siesta... hence Tf and I were free to splash about in relative peace... that is after a couple on a balcony got tired of watching.

After drying off etc, we taxied off to the bazaar. After several weekends of unsuccessfuly trying to find someone to fix his watch strap, Tf found a shoe repair man (not one of those guys sitting on a crate on the sidewalk with a shoe form and some superglue, but a real one with a sewing machine and bags of various types of shoe 'materials') in a side alley off of Bata Bazaar. Tf's watch was stitched back together, two pairs of my shoes has the lifts on the heels replaced and a final shoe had the strap glued and nailed back in place... the total - less than $2.00 US for the lot! Then I made my most expensive purchase in months... $35.00 for a DVD player - a skinny silver and black deal with the SAMSUNG logo glued on slightly askew! Logo - Korean, product - made in China like all the other fake products on the market here.

Anyway, now I am at home doing laundry, watching a DVD and admiring my suntan lines. Can't wait for my next weekend off. Tf says there is a bowling alley - even the days or events that would have been most ordinary back home seem fantastically exciting here.

Balcony Balancing Act

Yesterday was Friday, and hence a pretty quiet day in Hawler. Not only are many of the shops closed, there appear to be even fewer of the limited number of taxis passing in front of "Skokal Zakaria". Anyway, I decided to take Mu along and try to catch one of those elusive taxis and do some much needed grocery shopping (major grocery stores are open at least).

Click, my front door latched behind me at the very moment that I realized I hadn't picked up my keys. ****! The shameful part is that the only way to get back in (or so I thought at the time) is to call Abdullah, the building maintainance guy, and try to explain to him in a language he doesn't understand (English) that he needs to come help some silly foreigner who is absent-minded enough to lock herself out... AGAIN! After a frustrated call in which I couldn't understand any of what Abdullah was saying, I had to ask Mu to call him back and ask in Turkish or Kurmanji. Abdullah explained to him that the master keys had been handed over to the chief university administrator... OK, so I called her, but her phone was switched off. What to do? The university administrator could possibly leave her phone off for the entire weekend...

We chose to ring Tf's doorbell. He said there was a bucket of keys on the first floor. So barefoot, he tiptoed out of his apartment looking like he had just woken up (at 5:30pm) to take me 3 floors down to the storage unit with the keys. Sure enough, there were buckets of keys, but none of them the right ones. So finally, Mu -whose idea it was to ring Tf's bell- ventured out onto Tf's balcony, stepped up on the spare canister of gas for the oven and balanced precariously on the ledge of the balcony. Hugging the wall dividing Tf's balcony from mine, he managed to manouver himself around it and over the ledge onto my balcony. While it was a big relief to not have to spend my weekend locked out of my apartment, it is slightly worrisome that it is so easy to break in... and that none of the security staff noticed this event taking place.

Failure to wave

This post really needs a picture (I promise one as soon as I fix my camera). Prominantly near the middle of major intersections in Hawler, there are little boxes where traffic police (or are there special titles for people who direct traffic?) stand.

Recently, after an unsuccessful attempt to get one of our students admitted to the Korean hospital (we didn't have a pass to get in), we were leaving the long dirt road that leads out of the Korean military base and back onto the road when a traffic cop stopped us. RE, the driver, was asked for his license and registration... then he allowed us to travel on our way. As we drove away, I asked RE why we had been pulled over. Even though it doesn't seem to be a law here, we were even wearing seatbelts. There seem in fact to be so few road rules that I couldn't begin to imagine why, with our very responsible driver, we had been stopped. It appears that before pulling onto the road, RE failed to wave at the officer.

40 Degrees Celcius

It is now 6:20 pm and the temperature has cooled down to 40 degrees. From my 4th floor balcony, I can see the pool shimmering and sparkling seductively at me; but the splashing and shreiking of children cannonballing in from the sides of the pool dull my enthusiasm a little however... This evening at midnight will be time enough - that has been the usual timing of any evening swims. It is hot enough now that the water is still warmish even at midnight.

I have been in the pool a little more often recently. There have even had a couple of late night "pool parties"! The last one was too long ago - Vin actually braved a sexy black bikini, Tf demonstrated his amazing ability to swim half the length of the Olympic length pool underwater (I can't swim more than 10 feet without coming up for air) and Mu's Nokia mobile went diving. Vin noticed something blinking at her at the bottom of the pool. Tf dived down to investigate and surfaced with the latest Nokia mobile... I didn't know they could function underwater! Actually, it suffered from a cold that night, but after a little warming up from my hair dryer...

Anyway, I think it likely that I will enjoy my midnight swims as much as possible for the next little while as it would appear that they are putting up a wall around the pool. I wonder how that will change life. It will probably mean that there will be fewer hours in which women can swim... and the staff will finally be able to enforce the admission fee. But it may also mean that women can swim free from oogling. I guess I will have to wait and see.

Silence

For all my regular readers, I am so sorry for the long silence. In my defense, I have not had Internet at home until just last week... PLUS, the people from Turkey who service the air conditioners at the University were unable to come/fix the air conditioners until only this Wednesday past. And if you are thinking I am a big wimp, the temperature in my office was only slight below the 48 degrees C outside. Anyway, these two no longer constitute an excuse as both problems have been rectified.

However, the real problem is that my digital camera is broken. I am never sure that words will be enough to describe life here without a little visual clue. Anyway, vacation time is coming up and I will do my best to fix my camera soon.

the EDGE

Although this post could easily be about how all the staff and students at the Uni have been on edge recently with finals coming up... it isn't! "The Edge" is the name of the bar located just inside the gates of the British Embassy compound (correct info?). And to think I managed to live here for almost 8 months before visiting the only real western bar...

So how was it? For those of you who have been to Korea, think military bar in Itaewon: Loud music, smoky, lots of big buff American guys drinking beer, playing darts and shouting to be heard over the music. Last week, there was also a largish group of teachers from the Chouefat International School celebrating (via karaoke and line dancing) that term was over... and a group of Ethiopian workers who proved to be very fun on the dance floor. This week proved to be more of the same minus the karaoke and the Ethiopian women. We (Vi, Rst and I) took Mu, although this was perhaps unadvisable since it is especially hard to make conversation in English when the native speakers are drunk and shouting over music.

The unfortunate thing is that although I have now been 2 times, I still don't think I could find this place on my own. Both times I went with Rst and his armed guard (poor guy- he stands and waits for us by the vehicle until 2:30 or 3:00am when we leave). Now my weekend is over and I am afriad to say that I am now officially ON EDGE! When I awoke yesterday after the night out drinking, there was a message on my phone from the deen of the university. As he appears first on the top of my mobile's phone book, appears that whoever was sitting on my bad at the club managed to send several empty texts to my boss thus disturbing my sleep... The bag-sitter also managed to call one of my students and delete all the people in my phone book whose name started with 'Z'. Will have to be more careful next time.