Octoberfest.. again

To be honest, Octoberfest was a little anticlimactic this year. Why? Because the only reason for going (the big event at the Deutscherhof is German Reunification Day) is to enjoy the German sausages and draft beer specially brought in for that day. The problem this year? No sauerkraut. In any case, Haci (the guy in the photo at left - thanks for the picture Lesley) enjoys a draft wheat beer... a break from his usual EFES.

Access Graduation 2009

On October 8th (yes, I am still behind on posting), the School of Access (my department) held its first ever graduation - much thanks to colleague Dk who thought this would be a good idea and worked hard to see it actualized. And in fact, although it was not a degree program graduation, but rather the graduation from the 2 year preparatory English program, it did seem to be meaningful to students here (who love to receive certificates). Below is a bevy of beauties all decked out in local finery. I particularly like the garb of G, the girl 3rd from the left. She always manages to have a style all her own. She informed me that the gold (!!!) necklace she is wearing with all the strings of coins radiating out from the center has a special name and meaning in Kurdistan... If only I could remember what it was (I will try to ask and post in a comment).Despite a relatively short period for planning, the whole event went off without any glitches. Seats near the stage were reserved for the graduating students and everyone knew where to sit and what to do. In the photo below, students file in and find their seats. Note a number of what Kurdistan might consider "mini-skirts"! There are so few of these special events which warrant dressing up.
While students, staff and guests filed in, they were entertained with a slide show of photos taken over the last two years. This was a big hit.
And finally, the receiving of certificates. While most of the young men were as dressed up as the girls (suits and even ties), H wore his usual... but he managed to make the VC laugh.
And after the ceremony was over and people were standing around talking and getting ready to go, some students were already in the library uploading their photos to Facebook. One girl loaded her photos under the heading, "One of the best days of my life"! I only find it strange in retrospect that so few students purchased the special Access Class of 2009 T-shirts that Dk printed up.

Late Friday Mornings

These are the Friday mornings I love: Waking up late enough to have company for breakfast... lingering over several cups of brewed Ceylon tea, served with the strongly brewed tea in the bottom of the glass and topped off with as much hot water as needed to reach the desired strength... maybe even sweetened with a cube or two of brown sugar brought back from a supermarket in Turkey; not bothering to clean up the remains of a breakfast of bread fresh from the Istanbul bakery, olives, a variety of cheeses, sliced cucumber and tomatoes... and maybe even some menemen (eggs poached on top of stewed vegetables and sucuk (spicy Turkish sausages made from chicken) topped with condiments from home: Sriracha hot sauce, Coleman's mustard...

It is also important to have the right music to match the mood. I don't have a stereo, so my laptop perches on top of a couple of computer speakers on a side table in my kitchen. The music is one of a collection of songs given me by a former colleague, a politics professor from Turkey. The particular song is Allı Turnam, a Turkish folk song about a red crane. A crane with red points on his feathers is flying overhead and the man below sees it and implores that if the crane fly over his hometown, he greet his loved ones with sweet words (Say "sugar" say "honey") giving his apologies and explaining that his difficult situation have made it impossible for him to return home. In the version on my laptop, it is an instrumental piece, but my brunch companion sings along. The song is apt as he hasn't been home in over two years. He explains the lyrics to me. A little wave of nostalgia mingled with homesickness overtakes me even though my home isn't Turkey... but the mood is still good.

I haven't had one of these mornings in a while. This Friday is already booked, but I will leave you with a version of the song:

Healing Powers

Unfortunately, I am still behind in posting and we are STILL on the LONG road home to Erbil... but we are a little closer to Shaklawa (and hence Erbil) than we were at the mud huts two posts down. At this point in the road, I was beginning to get a little antsy as 6:00 pm was fast approaching and we still seemed to be far from Erbil and my dinner engagement. Why is it that when you are in a hurry, people suddenly come up with these bright ideas of things we absolutely can't wait until the next time to do?
It is at this juncture that I learned the true reason my Kurdish friends wanted to take the long road home from Suli. Nestled to the side of one of the sharp turns in the road is a little stream steaming with what I can only imagine is sulphur, the waters of which are purportedly healing! A number of cars were parked haphazardly along the side of the road and men, women and children all armed with empty plastic containers (my friend had a 2 liter coke container)were all trudging through the long grass looking for a good path down to the water. Because I was in a hurry, we couldn't just quickly fill our bottle with the stinky water and go, but rather had to loll about the side of the stream, taking photos of each other and children swimming in the stream.

In retrospect, I think the trip along the LONG road was rather nice, but I will be sure to chance it only when I have no other prior appointments.

Counting Sheep

The most plenteous of four-legged Kurdistan friends out causing navigational hazards

Summer Mud Huts; on the LONG Road Home

Some weekends ago, most likely because I had a 6:00pm appointment in Erbil, the friends that I had traveled to Sulemaniyah with decided that it would be a good idea to take the LONG way home to Erbil. And no, I am not talking about traveling to Erbil via the 3 hour long road from Koya as opposed to more dangerous 2-hour Kirkuk road... I am talking about an EVEN LONGER route that takes one on village roads through the mountains between Koya and Shaklawa and then around and back down to Erbil.

It turns out that somewhere along this road is the turn off to the home village of one of the friends in the car... not that we went to his village (or the village of his wife for that matter). But they did stop the car when I, catching a glimpse of the huts pictured below, screamed out, "Look at the turkeys!"

I am not really sure why such an exclamation should prompt the driver to stop, but stop he did. Please view the top two pictures for a view of the turkeys!

I alighted from the SUV, and there I stood, surrounded by turkeys! Then a man in a Kurdish suit came over and gesticulated at me. I, still unable to speak Kurdish (I truly do feel ashamed), could do nothing but follow while he took me on a tour of his family's summer home. Below, please view the barn. I understood that the various fowl (there were chickens as well) sleep here in the evening. The kitchen looked much like this as well, but with bags of grains leaning against the walls and a cooking area in one corner.
And below is the bedroom... complete with electricity! Amazing really considering where we were. A few naughty little girls were running around as we toured the home and barn, but refused to be photographed, running outside and hiding behind the skirts of the women sitting outside under a grass roof engaged in what appeared to be either weaving or food preparation.
And while I took this tour, those left in the car kept waving wildly. They had another destination in mind. I thanked my host (below) and went on my way.

Views from 100 Meter Road

Some time ago, I promised to post pictures of the newly finished sections of the 100 Meter Road. I'd like to make the first installment today.Below please find a picture of an as yet unopened mall. From the outside it appears to be huge and promises to host a variety of shiny new shops and services. I am hoping that they will be better than those at Rhine Mall... but if not, no worries. You can always fill in the time at the amusement park behind the mall: Family Fun. It boasts a ferris wheel, a roller coaster and rides all made from the left over materials from a massive amusement park in Turkey. (Note also that this mall is very near to BRZ - a new hypermarket which is quickly gaining fame as the the only supermarket selling both wet and dry cat (and dog) food! FYI - it also can lay claim to having the best selection of spices in Hawler, not to mention Pillsbury cake mixes and grapeseed oil!
And this next picture is the tunnel you will pass through if your taxi keeps heading straight on the 100 Meter Road towards the road to Ankawa instead of going back towards the Rizgari hospital.

Cleaning, Servicing... and Bulletproofing!

A couple of weeks ago, I managed to catch a ride home with Mu who just happened to be passing by the university at the right time. Suddenly he decided to change course - is it possible that he was provoked by my comment on how filthy the car was? - and head out towards the outskirts of Erbil to search for a car wash. Most of the car washes we passed were just drive through car washes, but Mu wanted the interior cleaned as well.

Finally, on Koya Road, we passed those two Sher gas stations that sit opposite one another. As it turns out, there is a sloping driveway down to a big garage behind one of them. Turns out this young mechanical engineering student (see below) from Turkey decided to come to Hawler and open a garage. We sat in an office while the young man took the car into the garage where they were starting to amass an impressive array of tools (and had strung up those little strings of triangular flags) much like what you would find at a garage in Canada... This garage was clean and uncluttered with the old tires, plastic containers full of gas and bits of scrap metal as you might find in the roadside car repair strip malls I remember passing in my first year in Erbil...
The car came out sparkling and decked out with Express Garage paper sheets on the newly cleaned floor and a little rearview mirror reminder of where cleaning had been done.
And as we drove away, the young man thanked us and sent us off with the promise that if we came back in a month's time, they will have finished setting up and will be ready for whatever repair services we need... including an option to bulletproof our vehicle!

One more Farewell

With the new year, we have a number of new colleagues... and must bid farewell to a few old ones. Pictured above is our departmental secretary (SZ) in the classroom we hold our meetings in slicing a commemorative cake (all occasions here seem to be celebrated with cake... well with the exception of engagement baklava). It was a sad day as SZ was much more than a secretary - always anticipating our departmental needs far enough in advance that we didn't want for much.

Unexpectedly, the week prior to her leaving, we all received gifts of clothing from SZ. I would love to post a photo of us in the clothing she gave us, but I am afraid CH would object, as she was rather self-conscious in the figure hugging cream dress patterned with a scattering of pink flowers. As for K, D and I, the gifts we received have become part of our staple Kurdistan wardrobes. Thanks SZ. We miss you.

The end of an era?

As you may have noticed, there has been rather a long (2 week) impasse which afforded me no time to post. I have been finding it even more difficult than usual to get into the swing of managing a rather intense work load this semester. What this means for Daily Hawler is that I neglected to post about a number of events significant only to those of us who live here, but significant none the less.

One of those significant (only to us) events was the change of leadership of our place of employ, which in some ways seemed to signify the end of an era... an era we knew to be only temporary. Last year was a period of flux in which a number of obstacles were overcome and some kinks ironed out (or at least a plan on how to iron them out was put in place). While the leader selected by the KRG for this period may have seemed controversial, I can say it was a good year for those in my department as we came together to plan our strategy for the year and beyond and were supported in the implementation of those plans. (It was also a good year because we all got to teach something we were passionate about - something which included content other than how best to improve English language skills).

Now we are beginning again with the third rector in 4 years. What will happen remains to be seen. In the meantime, I would like to share a few pictures of us at the farewell lunch given for the former rector:

Above sits my department, pleased to be having a buffet lunch at the "Sheraton" (as the university cafeteria was still not open at this time).

Below, a few staff contemplate the dessert cart.

The former rector comes to visit our humble corner of the restaurant.
Below is Cuma, our driver, in the parking lot of the "Sheraton" (in quotes as the real name is Erbil International Hotel) waiting for us to board the bus and travel the 0.4 km back to the university. (It was hot and we were wearing uncomfortable shoes, or we would have been more ashamed not to walk). Alas, RB is gone, lunch is over, and I no longer teach literature, but all good things must come to an end.

Folkloric Dance Classes in Hawler

In reality, this photo is of Turkish dancers at a Cultural event in Ottawa, Canada... However, the picture matches the brochure I was shown at a culture center right here in Hawler!

Last week, a coworker (let's call her CH) told me that she had heard that there were belly dance classes being taught somewhere in the city. I was a little shocked and amazed as the closest I had EVER seen to belly dancing here in Kurdistan was at a women-only Valentine's Day party held at J&K Women's Sport Center earlier this year. Women dressed up in clothing far sexier and danced in ways more provocative than I could have imagined given those same women's attire and behavior in public. Hence you can imagine I was intrigued by the thought of Hawleri belly dance classes. Maybe local women were engaged in all sorts of pursuits that I was unaware of, not being able to speak Kurdish.

CH picked me up and we drove to the home of a very pretty girl who was one of the dance students. She directed us to a residential area where the "studio" was located. More intrigue. We were ushered into an office labeled as the "Manager's" in Turkish where a number of young men were sitting. The pretty girl informed us they were also dancers! Male belly dancers? It seems possible they exist, but something didn't feel right. We were then taken to another office where a woman offered us tea and delivered some information about the center - a Turkish Culture Center - and associated dance performances. Students were instructed in various folkloric dances from the Kurdish regions of Turkey. We flipped through photos of dancers (definitely NOT belly dancers as you can see from the photo above) as well as of the founder of Bilkent University, Erbil-born Ihsan Dogramaci. It seems that this center was established as a kind of precursor to the K-5 school to be opened in 2010 (K-12 by 2017). It seems that this school, BICE (Bilkent International College Erbil), will add another English-medium school to a growing number in the region. If you are interested, BICE will be taking applications for English, Turkish and Math teachers until December 15. It is unfortunate I am not really a primary teacher.

Anyway....

After "tea" (in actuality, we asked for water), we were taken up several flights of stairs to a studio on the rooftop complete with a floor to ceiling, wall length mirror. The students were all garbed in athletic attire and were busy fidgeting, obviously in anticipation. The boys stood first to take their place in the center of the floor. The instructor barked a few instructions in Turkish, the music started and the boys danced. WOW! It was unlike the Kurdish dancing I had seen here in that the footwork was entirely in unison, it was extremely athletic and required the boys to line up, link arms, break apart and go through a series of complicated patterns. When they were done, the girls got up. They formed two lines on diagonally opposite positions on the floor. When the music started, they glided across the rooms with elegant arm positions until they came to form a star in the center.... But unfortunately not elegant enough! The teacher stopped them to correct posture and CH and I escaped. As interesting and wonderful as it was (environment like a dance studio anywhere), CH and I (as less youthful non-Kurds) will not be joining.

Recent flood in Erbil

It rained yesterday evening! And this morning, as we entered the parking lot of the university, we were surprised to see what appeared to be a lake. A colleague made a comment along these lines:

Seems the Buildings & Estates Department are making good on their promise to add facilities. We now have a swimming pool!

Indeed! The bus driver turned the wheel and we all held our breath as he navigated the bus towards the embarkation point (which would take us directly through the center of the pool). We exhale. The event was anticlimactic as the water didn't even come halfway up the wheel.

Anyway, this is likely the most water Erbil has seen in a while... and with poor drainage, it sits around until being absorbed into the dust... or evaporated by the midday sun. But note that what is simply normal rainful to a Vancouverite is a full-on FLOOD to a Hawleri!

Thanks for the photo Suhaib. Sorry for posting before requesting permission to post.

Missing the bus

I hate being late. Yet all this week has been marred by about a 2-5 minute lag (both figuratively and literally). For those of you who imagine that punctuality is not important in Kurdistan.... and all Westerners living in Kurdistan are ferried between places (that have been previously approved by a security team) in a bulletproof SUV driven by a driver/security guard with a pistol under his seat, think again. Lowly teachers are transported to and from work in a Korean-made mini-bus on schedule so regular that a 15 second delay might have you running after the bus waving wildly hoping to catch the driver's rearview mirror glance. 

The pictures in this series is a photographic documentary of what happens when you miss the bus.
1. You walk to the front gate, remembering to greet whoever is seated there.If you do this, you are more likely to have a plastic seat provided for your waiting comfort at times when there are no taxis.
2. As it is morning, all the drivers who regularly drive Naz City residents will be waiting out front. You will tell them where you want to go.
3. After a brief discussion, the drivers will decide which of them gets to take you and you be ushered into a tan (not orange and white) taxi (which are now differenciated from other tan Kurdistan taxis by the Naz City logo on the side).
4. You pay the driver either 3 or 4 thousand dinar and walk through the gate into the parking lot just as the other staff are getting of the bus (and feeling stupid as everybody filing into the uni knows that you were not disciplined enough to get ready just 2 minutes earlier).

Mesopotamian Fylfots - 3000 BC to now

In case you are wondering what a fylfot is, it is quite simply put, a swastika. I encountered this symbol first in Kurdistan when trying to purchase old kilims and carpets from a dusty carpet seller in the kaiseri bazaar. Not only are there simple swastikas featured in some of the designs, there are chains of linking swastikas and other sorts of fancified (my word) hooked crosses. At the time I first noticed these, I asked Mr. Lolan Sipan - who runs the Textile Museum - about these. He has a number of encyclopedic volumes on the carpets of Kurdistan and the symbols found therein. If I am allowed to interpret the gist of what I remember, I think he said he believed the symbols (which are used even today) are part of the weavers' collective unconscious. The patterns, designs and motifs have been passed down from generation to generation, but the traditional meanings behind the symbols have largely been forgotten. Lolan surmised that the hooks that appear on the rugs are a form of chakert (a word I have been unable to find anywhere - perhaps I have it wrong?) which is some form of ancient sun symbol.

A search on the origins of the swastika (not just the hooks) will likely include the Sanskrit meaning of the word swastika as "well-being." This symbol, as it was used by the Hindus, represents a kind of cosmic order... and hence linked swastika borders found on carpets are viewed as creating a kind of protective boundary for the item in use, or the person/household it adorns. However, there are many interpretations. Jeremy Black and A. Green in Gods, Demons and Symbols of Mesopotamia (p. 171) who are looking specifically at this region, state only that this symbol has been described in various ways, including: as a solar symbol derived from the wheels of the chariot of the sun god, as the sign for a fortress, and as a symbol of the four winds. Check the link above for a picture of a design found on prehistoric pottery bowl found in Samara (far before Hitler's time). A glossary of carpet motifs suggests the swastikas in the kilims and carpets may in fact refer to the Sanskrit meaning, with those latch hooks (in rows as opposed to in a swastika) referring to paradise and the steps needed to get there.

Anyway, the reason I have been thinking about this symbol is actually rather shocking. When interviewing new students, one rather lovely-looking girl was wearing a chain with a silver swastika pendant, much like the one below (but with no circle around it):

I suddenly remembered that I had seen a few boys a couple of years ago wearing rings with swastikas on them. I asked the girl (who had very little English) what the pendant was for and she answered simply...

"Hitler."

I was stunned. Truthfully, I suspected the reply, but was shocked that she could admit it so openly. I asked why she would wear something connected to Hitler. Again came a one word answer.

"Bravery."

In truth, I find it shocking to hear people express their admiration for Hitler, especially as the Kurds and other Iraqis seem to have no great problem with Israel. While it may be true that Hitler was a "great leader" (as I have had it explained to me), I think that my Western perspective does not allow me to say anything complimentary without many qualifications as to Adolf's general loathsomeness. And to be honest, I would expect that after suffering Saddam (Anfal, etc), people here would be less in awe of such a cruel and inhumane dictator. In any case, it has left me with a uncomfortably itching desire to do a little research. I truly want to know what has been written in high school history textbooks about WWII (later to be turned into a paper).

If you can read Kurdish and can help me with this, please send me an email or post a message.