Bekhal & Ruwandes

During the last week of Mom's visit, we took advantage of Mu's generosity and borrowed his vehicle one more time to tour the area North of Hawler (since mom was impressed and surprised to find that Kurdistan is more than a flat dusty...) Anyway, we did the following loop: Hawler - Shaklawa - Bekhal - Ruwandes - Jundian - Guli Ali Beg - Shaklawa - Hawler.


The above two photos are taken at Bekhal.


And these are of Ruwandes- for me, by far the most stunning.

Jundian & Guli Ali Beg

This is the final leg of the loop (starting from Shaklawa and including all the pretty waterfalls).

On the road from Ruwandez (towards Jundian)

Jundian

Guli Ali Beg - You can find this picture on the 5000 Iraqi dinar.

Fuzzy Picnic Pic

Friday is not only for praying, it is also for picnics. This was the view for almost the entire way back to Hawler from Sulemaniyah... And almost the whole way back, our driver's wife kept calling him in a voice loud and agitated enough for us to hear her even though the phone was pressed tightly against his ear. Seems she was eager for him to get home and take her on a picnic too. Anyway, since then I have also been on my own picnic (with colleagues and students), but unlike this one, ours was in the rain. More later...

MaDonal

A fast food restaurant in Suli; but as I didn't go in to sample the cuisine, I can't comment on the taste in comparison to the chain it bears resemblance to. I wonder if it is true that copyright regulations don't apply in post-conflict zones.

A non-white Monica

So Mom noticed that all Monicas (have I told you that Toyota Landcruisers go by the monicker Monica in Kurdistan?) seem to be white!

Ha explained that Monicas are called Monicas because of Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky - I invite anyone to elaborate on the significant of this vehicle in their relationship... and they are white because Northern Iraq is too hot in the summer.

Fair enough. Anyway, had to take the picture to prove that they do in fact come in other colors - even in Kurdistan.

Thursday in Suli

We went to Chia Azmar in the early morning on the second day in Suli... This is a view from near the top.

Another view...

After the mountaintop, we went to the bazaar to shop... we bought dictionaries (English-Kurdish) and browsed all the wares from Turkey. This was the view of a live turkey market from a bridge above.

After this, we went to the Palace Hotel for coffee and walked slowly back to our own hotel stopping at the Antique bazaar on the way back to our hotel. There we met Ha who informed us that an associate of Mu wanted to take us for dinner at Revan (probably the best -and most expensive- Turkish restaurant in Kurdistan). It was nice (as usual). But by the end, we were too full to even stand up, let alone do anything else (and I had been hoping to meet up with D for drinks.

Anyway, I managed to meet D and H for coffee the following morning (Friday) before heading back to Hawler.

And this is a fuzzy view of the mountains as we were exiting Sulemaniyah on Friday morning.

The trip to Sulemaniyah

So after a lot of stalling, on Tuesday night I finally decided that the following morning (9:30am) would be the time to take my mother to Sulemaniyah. Unfortunately, after stalling on the decision-making, 'Monica' also decided to stall... Seems we left lights on her control panel on and sapped her poor battery of all energy, meaning that Ha (trusted driver/security personnel?) had to go for jumper cables. After jump-starting, we had to drive the cables home and return to New City just one more time to pick up my forgotten mobile phone. I am so glad our university driver was not the driver for this trip or I never would have lived down yet another instance of me leaving my cell phone somewhere.

Anyway, the drive was good... past the slatey multi-colored 'badlands' on the way to Koya, the furry hills that look like grass superglued to sand dunes and 'mountains' that looked like a strong wind has blown a dusty carpet into slanted ridges (pictures coming)... and on to Dokkan. How unexpected to come across a lake there... even more unexpected was for H to jump out of the SUV, yell at a man in a motorized rowboat down near the water and ask him to take us for a ride. We half climbed, half slid down for a quick whiz round the lake before continuing on to Suli for a dinner at Komelayeti...

Dinner was also strange as, although recommended by D, we were not really welcomed at the restaurant. I think it was a private club of some sort although the menu was not extensive (nor was the food particularly good). However, it was cheap and finding it was quite the adventure as it was hidden in the middle of the dark Azadi Park and as the name presented me with a mystery to solve. Just the name alone was met with great hilarity from H (note that he is Hawleri and not a Suli-resident) who was unable to explain to us the meaning of this Kurdish word. he was quite unwilling to believe it could be the name of a restaurant and I had to get a hotel staffer to convince him.

Now it is Thursday and I am about to go for dinner with Mr. S (and I wanted Chinese) at the infamous Revan - the restaurant that (when in Suli) Mu goes to as religiously as he does the fake Sheraton in Hawler... Anyway, today's fuller program to be posted soon.


Mom (after we convinced her it was safe to get out of the car and approach the edge of the 'cliff') with Ha overlooking the city of Koya! (Yes, we went via Koya - not Kirkuk)!

Dokkan (note man with boat at the edge of water)

View of man from inside boat...

Ha on mobile phone (to Mu or his wife?) while skirting lake in boat

Building on hill (belonging to Talibani?)

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.

Hoshim Dewi - Love thy Neighbor

"Hoshim Dewi" means, "I love you!" in Sorani (local dialect of Kurdish). The girls in this photo live in the house directly opposite of S. She always gets the windows overlooking the houses in back (whereas I get to look at the driveway into NC).

Anyway, the children on both sides love to yell at us whenever they see us, "Hello! What's your name? I love you!"

I wish the wall between us wasn't so high or I'd invite them to play badminton (or goodminton as H calls it) the next time 6-year-old H and I play in between the houses.

Electrical calamity # 2

Imagine my dismay to one day be in the middle of cooking a meal for a guest and run out of gas in the middle... I took it in stride, however, and promptly called the front desk to bring me another smelly canister. Unfortunately, the price of gas in Iraq had gone up enough that our hotel hosts decided to replace all the gas cookers with electrical units.

Sigh... Although bad enough that I now had to wait for the elements to heat up in order to cook, I was informed that I could only use one of the too-tiny, set-too-close-together elements at a time. I wasn't really sure whether or not to believe this until S used both hers at the same time (results pictured). Now all my dinner parties are on hold until we move. I mean, it was bad enough running to other peoples' houses in order to be able to cook properly; cook 2 dishes in my house and heat the dahl and rice in someone else's.

Breach in Security: Accidents Happen!

Sometime in the late afternoon last week, a 10 year old boy took his father's BMW for an extremely brief joyride- a ride just long enough for him to crash into the outer wall of New City and bring it tumbling down (not too hard given the absense of steel supports inside the wall). But there are no worries inside New City as we have our Peshmerga on duty around back. Anyway, one and all should have a good look, along with the spectators pictured, as this is likely the only chance you will get to have a look at the city life just outside the walls of New City from this vantage point on the inside!

What's do YOU use your mobile phone for?

(Unrotated photo taken by mobile phone of local mobile phone salesman)

I haven't been without a cell phone since Korea (1996), and so now have one with tons of functions I almost never use: walkman/radio, address book and day planner, world clocks and alarms, camera, email and chat functions, etc... (although when in London, I did occasionally check my email). Anyway, you all know what two very (can't think of appropriate adjective) high-ranking officials in Iraq used their mobiles for! And shock of shocks, one of our lovely local staff used his to receive and playback this scandous video footage for us. I couldn't watch once I figured out what we were about to view (and not only because the angles shifted so much as to make the most balanced person dizzy) ... but our friend said that just having this proof made him feel 'comfortable'. B recently bought a mobile phone and I noticed she had left the bluetooth option on. I hope our naughty local friend doesn't notice this and send her his video clip.

Dr. Z (King of the World... Are you still going by this?), where can I read what you have written about the big event itself?

Closer to home - US raid on Iranian diplomatic mission

On the 11th, Hawler (Irbil/Erbil) made the news- Not Mosul or Kirkuk, but this very city. It's just unfortunate that making the news seems only occasionally a good thing... And it is unfortunate that news was about a US raid and not of a Hawler local winning a Nobel Peace Prize (or even something trivial like the very first working ATM to be installed in a supermarket... Hawler really does seem to be developing quickly. D-who loves Sulemaniya- says that Hawler has caught up to and surpassed 'Suley' in terms of development).

Anyway, back on topic... Information on BBC suggests that the building didn't have diplomatic status, but Iran has lodged a complaint (no doubt) to Iraq's foreign ministry. Resident experts believe that this will blow over without any kind of real backlash, but it does make me anxious for tomorrow when I will be privy to predictions from outside the complex. I am hoping that some who have more knowledge about this incident than me will post information, predictions and comments here.

I (insert heart here) NY!

For all you regular readers, I want to say that I have withdrawn the last post about New York attitude in Hawler as my lame attempt at humour went terribly wrong... some readers may not have known how I REALLY feel about New York and my NY colleagues who are always welcome at my place (although I am sure D - who was one of those mentioned... and who occasionally reads but NEVER posts - does): the noise, the activity (not to mention the salsa scene, galleries and shopping), the attitude and the manner of communication (which I bring up because of my possible bitterness at not being able to get mistaken for a New Yorker). The truth is I do love it... and my only regret is not going to experience life there pre-George Bush.

Unfortunately, at the moment, NY seems a million miles from Hawler (involving at least two stop-overs and a potentially unpleasant customs experience on arrival with Iraqi stamps in my passport dated before my UK student visa expires). So I wasn't able to meet my friends there this holiday (A in California and F in Vancouver, thanks for spending the last days of 2004 there... and PLEASE post... Doesn't matter that you haven't met anyone here yet... Start planning your holiday to Kurdistan!)

The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T

Did you watch the Grinch that stole Christmas on TV this year? I didn't... but I did get to enjoy Dr. Seuss nonetheless. I was having more difficulties posting while in London, but S (the one in London, not Hawler) and I saw (on her National Film Theatre member's 2-for-1 coupons which we luckily used before her wallet was stolen) the 5000 Fingers of Dr. T. For all of you Dr. Seuss fans, I recommend you look this one up - very strange indeed! (I haven't provided a summary so as not to ruin it for you).

Zagros

Zagros is a range of mountains spanning Iran and Iraq. As a girl's name, it means sweet and feminine... and it is also the name of D and her husband A's restaurant in Paris. As a favor to H (D's 6 year old mentioned sometime in October here on Daily Hawler), I went to find it on this my last night before returning to London... and Hawler.

This is the first sight on ascending the metro steps: Boulevard Richard Lenoir (named after Mr. Richard and Mr. Lenoir - 2 guys who brought the cotton industry to Paris).






And this is A: proud restauranteer. He has handed over his package for H, downed a glass of wine with me, and taught me a little French. It's all good. Next time I will go with friends to wash down some Greek-Kurdish amuse bouche with a little raki and listen to Aynur.

Methode de Kurde: Sorani

I am only posting this in case I or someone else wants to visit in future:

Institute de Kurde de Paris
106 Rue La Fayette, 75010
Phone: 00-33-(0)1-48246464

Note that nobody speaks English (why would they?) but French and Kurmanji are no problem. I was only there a few minutes to buy a Sorani textbook for 24 Euros. Good deal as I will be able to learn two languages for the price of one! There are detailed explanations about Sorani grammar: 'le substantif, le pronom personnel, l'ezafe, etc..." of course all in French! I will have to study hard!

Gare du Nord

Today I have moved to a hotel near Gare du Nord as SA had to pack and leave for Dubai. I will leave tomorrow morning. After getting settled in, I arranged to meet up with R. She is a lecturer at a London university who happened to be visiting Paris at the same time. She also happens to have similar shopping tastes as me (and being Brazilian, manages a better sounding French than I can muster). We bought identical shoes at a shop on Rue de Rivoli and hats (different ones) at Etam department store. Then after a little wine, she had to catch her train at Gare du Nord. This is us (two in center) in front of the station along with the Morrocan-French girls who took turns taking our photo for us. They also gave us an email address to send the photos to and the travel advice not to visit Marrakech, but Saïdia.

'Companion in evening talk'

Like last time in Paris, Sm skipped the main party (this time, New Year's Eve) and joined us for dinner & drinks our last night out together. The title of this post is the Arabic meaning of his appropriately chosen name. SA translates it as 'the entertainer'... Either way, he certainly kept us amused. I find it a little creepy that he looks a bit like my brother... and I apparently look like his aunt. I wonder if I also look Algerian then... (or does he look like my mix?) It is kind of comforting to look related to people... or live in parts of the world where people assume you are local if you can just keep your mouth shut. Anyway, although Sm hates visiting the same place twice, we ended up at Le Loup Blanc along with Fo, Ka, and Ta. I love this place because they serve sides of pousses de fougere ('fiddleheads' in English - essentially a kind of baby fern). During dinner, Sm insisted I speak French and that kept me silent for most of dinner... so I really could have passed for either Algerian or French!

After dinner, SA, Sm and I went for drinks in Les Halles (a place SA hates). I just hate trying to say it as I always forget that the first 's' is silent even though the 'h' is also silent. Anyway, we passed this creepy kewpie doll window display on the way (see above). The bar was equally kitch with all sorts of paper mache orbs (planets, fugu fish, etc) hanging from the ceiling. (By the way, did you know that mache means 'masticated'?) I was thinking though that it would be great to have these kinds of places in Hawler... Anyone want to move and open a fusion restaurant or a trendy bar/cafe?

Fewer Degrees of Separation... even in Hawler!

It really is amazing how once you start to travel and live abroad, you realize how all the paths of the people you meet cross, have crossed, will cross again. Maybe there are less than 6 degrees of separation these days? In London, I made a quick trip to Reading (a town between London and Oxford) to pick up a few books from a guy working at a small independent publishing company there. He piled me up with a load of books and then asked me if I wouldn't prefer him to take some of them with him at the end of January. WOW! I finally met someone who has plans to go to Hawler! I asked him what he was going to do there and when he told me who he was going to meet, I was able to find her business card in my bag!

Solola and the Dress Code

Before moving to Kurdistan, I asked around; on the Internet, to people in other countries in the Middle East, to my Kurdish employers... 'What is appropriate dress for women in Kurdistan?' I didn't really get any clear answer. At my new place of employment, anything goes, I was told... 'It is European standard', they said. Other people said essentially, the same... but no short skirts, no low cut tops. After arriving, a female colleague wrote back and said this wasn't true: eveything MUST be baggy and cover pretty much ALL skin below the neck (think potato sack). It was too late for me to repack as I had already sent eveything else to Canada or dropped it in the recycle box.

After arriving in Hawler, I dropped everything and ran to the bazaar to buy a few suitable shirts: baggy, hippyish chemises with fake embroidery or beads adorning the necklines. I sigh with resignation everytime I open my closet. So once in Paris, I begged my friend to spend just an hour shopping with me. We headed to Solola where I promptly maxed out my Mastercard. The staff were friendly and helpful and understoood my explanation of the dress code precisely... a dress code I have revised through observation of local women! Not all clothes need be baggy. If you are wearing trousers, better to wear a baggy or butt-covering top or jacket, but if in a skirt, tighter and shorter is not a problem so long as there are sleeves and no decolletage.

I felt embarrassed about my spree afterwards, but SA assured me that it used to be the same for her. In the early 90s, there wasn't much to shop for in Abu Dhabi (she lives in Dubai now) and when she reached Paris, she experienced awe and great need on viewing all the lovely things to be had in the shops here. Now there is no lack in the UAE anywhere, so I guess soon Kurdistan will be inundated with material goods as well.

Happy New Year!

New Year was much of a muchness with other parties hosted by my delightful Paris friends... people started to trickle in and were forced to talk to everyone they didn't know as a result of strange games conceived of my Fo and Ka (SA'a sister and partner) which are in keeping with the theme of party- this year was Addam's family New Year. This top picture shows Fo as Wednesday (too bad you can't see her stripey socks), Ka (note his horns) and Ta in the foreground.

This year, however, Fo and Ka were not the hosts, SA and Im were. Im catered the evening with wonderful spicy Dhaka-meets-Paris style appetisers. He has pointed me in the right direction to buy essential groceries to take back to Kurdistan; fenugrteek, tamarind, popadoms, etc. He won't come and visit me in Hawler, but he and SA might be willing to host me in Dubai as well as Paris if I get a long weekend off. This bottom photo is of my lovely host SA.

Nostalgic Paris

I arrived in Paris on the 30th (as did Ta). Ta used to live in Paris and met my Parisian host SA two years before I did... when they were in high school. She wanted to revisit a few places she used to 'haunt' when she was a student here. We had hot chocolate (the kind you need to eat with a spoon) at Angelina's near the Louvre. We wandered around Chirac's neighbourhood and consulted the Paris version of London's A-Z. (See Ta in above photo).
And although this is my third trip to Paris, this was my first time to the Champs Elysees.

Festive Trio

Although there was lots of work to be done in Hawler... and although mom in Canada would loved for me to have ventured home, I decided that the more relaxing thing to do would be to spend Christmas with friends for whom Christmas is just a day off work. Meet S in London (for whom every day is a day off work since she has quit and turned down that Liberia offer that would have put her in circumstances with more than a few similarities to mine) and Y (who has never posted... but who will teach me some good Turkish to try out on the cafeteria staff in Hawler). This picture is taken at C and V's house... (Sorry no pictures of them). They recently returned from Hamburg and shared the spoils of German Christmas market with us.... gingery cookies, stolen and etc. They also supplied me with enough much-longed-for chocolate products to keep me happy for another few months in Kurdistan... I should state here that there IS chocolate in Erbil and that some of it is good. It is just not infused with chilli and cardamom!
And this is us at Bar Italia in Soho. Y calls this place Cafe Orgasma.... probably because the coffee is about as good as it gets- BEAUTIFUL, strong and fragrant. I paired mine with a canoli. Yum.

Foggy London Landing

So clearly, I am no longer in Kurdistan... and it is more than a little surreal. I have been experiencing sensory overload since tranferring in Vienna. Yes, after the saga of T and S, I decided to fly Austrian Air to London via Austria on its' second ever Friday flight. G was on the premier flight a week prior and sat on the Erbil runway for a whole hour... causing him to miss his ongoing flight in Vienna and creating the necessity for AA to put him up in a Viennese hotel! I had my fingers crossed, but had no such luck myself. I made my flight and everything worked like a recently cleaned luxury-brand Swiss watch's insides.... until I reached London. Due to heavy fog and bad management, I sat on the runway there for an hour waiting for a 'docking station' (again, can't remember the right word). Why oh why couldn't I have had that free day's vacation in Vienna?