The finished product

Some people don't like my naked white wall, but eventually something will be hung there (even if it is against flat-user policy)... I mean the walls are crappy anyway. In a few places, the act of rolling paint on the wall brought the wall away. And yes, it is true that we didn't strip the walls and prime them... but that is because the plaster work underneath the beige paint was also substandard and the plaster falls away if you even look at the walls in the wrong way.
Still others mentioned that they couldn't understand why I would paint the walls of a place I didn't intend to stay long-term in. But I feel that there are several reasons to paint, not the least of which being simply for something to do... In addition, I feel that even if you are only planning to live somewhere a short time, you should enjoy. Painting in Erbil is like building an elaborate sand castle - a transient pleasure:
A view from the foyer - now Bordeaux 75! (kitchen to right, living room to left)
And below is the living/dining room - living room half is now Oase (sage) and the dining half is natural white... No beige!


Now I just need some friends to paint pictures to hang on the walls.

Banish-the-Beige Painting Party

One of the first things that S said on arriving at my flat was a reminder of how I had mentioned that I would like to paint my flat... and the offer of her expert painting assistance. Since this was her last week before returning to the UK, we caught a ride with Mu and headed to the paint shop... a big shop on a road somewhere behind the market selling primarily Turkish paint. Shopping for paint in Kurdistan proved to be quite the experience as first of all, the shop clerks couldn't get over the fact that women were shopping and choosing colors that they clearly thought were absurd (Are you sure? That color is dark!)... and secondly was the incredible revelation that we were planning to paint the walls ourselves. Apparently DIY, especially for women, is not really a local custom. So anyway, we chose Bordeaux 75, Oase (sage green), natural white and Laches (the only color a man picked out and it was very light salmon pink) for one of the smaller rooms. The men found it so funny, they gave us Betek overalls, T-shirts and caps and asked us to take photos for them of the rooms before, during and after painting. We in turn found it funny that they had no idea what a paint tray was or even that you needed one to use a roller.

Anyway, yesterday we finally got rid of some the institutional all-beige feel of the flat. D and Mu's friend Haji came and we did the front hall and living room. Below are the "during" photos (by S).




And finally, after it was all over, Y made his way over in a taxi and we enjoyed a little post-painting party (photos by Y).

Visitors

Having done research on Kurdish diaspora and subsequently worked for more than a semester at our university, it was no real surprise that S was returning for a few weeks in Hawler. But when I received an email informing me that British based Turkish Cypriot friend Y would be visiting from London, it felt completely out of the blue... perhaps because unlike mutual London-based archivist friend, Y never indicated an interest in visiting Iraq or Iraqi Kurdistan. So far, it is more than interesting to have these two friends here at the same time; S who is surprised to find being back almost unbearable, and Y who is pleasantly surprised by what he is encountering and keeps saying, "I never expected..."

I am sure that the shiny new face of the Erbil International Airport, the new ground transportation and the ease and organization of Austrian Airlines made Y's arrival smooth and comfortable... like a mini Dubai without the duty free shopping? And exiting the airport, he would have passed our "luxury" apartments (at least clean and modern from the outside), massive construction sites complete with imposing and impressive stone gates, a few sample homes and cranes inside (how would he know that they have sat abandoned for months?), shiny facades of shopping centers and finally, his home in Hawler, "Erbil International Hotel" (the fake Sheraton). Not that our visit together did much to initiate him into the realities of life here. After coffee, we had to stop to pick up a suit for Mu at a new men's fashion showroom - the likes of which I have never before seen in Hawler. We then went to a Turkish barbecue restaurant which was clean and was patronized by well-turned out locals and internationals alike. But I must admit, I also noticed (with Y pointing things out through the window), that things had changed... at least superficially. The roads back to the hotel were all well lit, and many of the islands between lanes were decorated with a row of fledgling palm trees.

Above photos (by Y) at Manqal Restaurant in Ankawa.
A brief stop for gas, not as flashy as Khak or Sher, not as dingy as the roadside kids with the plastic containers of gas. Photo also Y's.
And this would be Y's first view as he enters the "Sheraton" - the barbecue pit outside of the Atrium garden restaurant.

With S and Mu, it is other things I am reminded of... that the vacuum created by the absence of a rule of law persists and with it, arbitrary decision-making, cynicism, distrust, nepotism and "wasta" (everyone connected to anyone gets a big bite of the pie)... all as just part of the rampant corruption. Every minor government official drives around in a Landcruiser or BMW and the agencies they work for are "too poor" to do anything for the people... not that the people really expect anything or do anything to assist change. What's the point? And for those who really do want to do anything that could be deemed "worthwhile" for Kurdistan, it seems it is necessary to schmooze with any number of greasy politicians who talk about everything except...

OK. Enough of that because it is likely that either I am boring you by restating the blatantly obvious... or making you angry, so I will stop. Last night while out with Y, I got a text from a colleague asking me to dinner tonight because today he has a couch surfer is arriving. Shall I wait and see what his initial impressions of Kurdistan are?

The Garbage Bar

"It's very romantic," insists Mu, regarding the place he took visiting friend for a beer... a place he affectionately calls the Garbage Bar. "The moon... garbage... beer."
Romantic indeed! Ideas about romance vary from culture to culture. I mean, there are people here think it is romantic to follow the woman they love and snap photos of her with his cell phone, behaviour many of us might consider to be "creepy stalking"... or to injure themselves to demonstrate... what? How painful love is? Or to send love texts hundreds of times during the day and night...
But in any case, regarding the Garbage Bar, I will withhold judgement until I can go... and I will try to get a new battery recharger in the bazaar so that I can photograph it for you. In reality, it is a place where some locals (reportedly primarily Muslims) go to drink unseen. They buy their alcohol in Ankawa, mix it in plastic water bottles (I save mine for a Chaldean guy whose uncle has an alcohol shop who collects bottles to give to customers on their way to the Garbage Bar), head to the Garbage Bar (a deserted street on the edge of Ankawa) where they park, drink and throw their bottles onto the garbage heap.

Overweight

My small extra bag took me to 13 kg over the 20 kg limit, but with no carry on (an additional permissible 8 kg ), and Austrian Airline still decided to charged me £257 in overweight! That works out to about £20 per kilo. They could have at least deducted my 8 kg carry on allowance and charged me £100 for only 5. Other colleagues in the airport paid double what I paid, but a guy that hung out and waited for the girl at the counter to change paid nothing. I will choose my counter more wisely next time.
(Picture taken in Museum in Nuremberg).

Transportation

On our trip through Europe this winter, Mom and I travelled primarily by train and local transport (buses, subways, trains) with the exception of a few taxis and one horse drawn sleigh... but Mom (I seem to be unobservant) pointed out a couple of other forms of transport she found interesting... starting with an eye-catching candy bus in Munich...... to 4-legged tourist transport sporting gortex jackets in Salzburg. I didn't know they made them for horses... I thought they were for North American hikers and backpackers (and almost all Vancouverites)...

... to public bicycles in Paris. I would like to try this system next time.

Last Stop London

And finally, friends and I in London celebrated the start of 2009. Seems more and more people are relocating to London. I now have more friends in London than in Vancouver. Thanks to Amy for the gorgeous spread.










On the first day of 2009, we wandered along the South Bank. Below are views from the South Bank; St. Paul's, the Millennium Bridge...






And Tower Bridge.

Iraq in Paris

Don't you just love that I have to go to the Louvre in Paris... or the Britih Museum in London to see artifacts of the type that exist or were taken from an area just about an hour from where I live now?

Paris

OK... since coming back to Erbil, I have felt completely sapped of energy and have not posted even the last pictures from my winter vacation... so here they are...
After the castles tour in Bavaria, we boarded the TGV to Paris. Although we only had a couple of days in Paris, during which I think I thoroughly exhausted Mom, we managed to get around a bit:
The below picture was taken on the evening of our arrival at Hôtel de Ville (City Hall). Too bad everything was closed as it ws a Sunday.

On the second day in Paris, we got up early and headed to Rue de Rivoli for the world's most fabulous hot chocolate at Angelina's. From there we headed down through Les Tuileries, gardens created by the Versailles park designer. Mom noted the statue below as there was a dog in it... something a little unusual. All through Germany, she had noted the huge number of dog walkers. In Paris, it was more doggy gifts on the streets that she noticed.

We then arrived at the Louvre, the highlight of the day.

Below is a picture of part of Napolean's apartments... a part of the Louvre that I hadn't previously been to. By the time we left the Louvre, we were completely exhausted. But I still had to fit in a little shopping near Châtelet and dinner in Les Halles.

And below is a scene from the edge of the Seine.

On our final day, we just went to Cafe Beaubourg and met my friend Audrey for lunch before leaving for London on the Eurostar...