Shinglbana in Ruwandez

Although I had also been to Rowandez before, I hadn't even heard of Shinglbana. Up to this point, as the weather was quite bad, the highlight of the picnic was really mostly the opportunity for teachers and students (and students with students) to bond... and to be entertained by 'Bellydancer'. But Shinglbana was something else. There were these little cars that you get in and you are propelled along a treacherous little track, braking by yourself when necessary.

This is new teacher Tf getting into his car. He had the great misfortune to be sandwiched between me and Bellydancer... me braking continuously in front of him... and Bellydancer carrening into him from behind at full speed.

This picture taken on the way back up the track hopefully shows why I felt the need to brake all the way down... Too bad you can't see the signs that say "Brake" and "Ride at your own risk".

This is the Shinglbana dance club. While people like Tf decided to experience the 'rollercoaster' a few more times, some of us others danced to the Kurdish music blaring from the bus' distressed sound system.

And finally, we have a view of the bus entertainers in action: Bellydancer dancing... and Re playing the daf.

Picnic portaits

These pics are of key personalities from my first picnic... and first outing with students en masse.
This is 'Bellydancer'. He is thusly named for his non-stop dancing... some of it quite acrobatic, especially moves undertaken when the bus was in motion. This is him using the daf (tamborine) as an umbrella.
This is B. The rifle is not his, but we thought he looked appropriately serious holding it given his garb and against the backdrop at Jundian.

These are some other key personalities from my first picnic. Note R, our picnic organizer. He is the one looking straight at the camera.

Guly Ali Beg... again!

So the picture below was taken on my first read picnic in Kurdistan... and second trip to Guli Ali Beg.

The students are pleased to pose in front of the centerpiece of the $5000 Iraqi dinar!

Tawla

Don't know if Mt won or lost this game, but judging by the fact that I only see 1,500 Iraqi dinar by his elbow, the stakes seem lower than usual! Anyway, I post this picture because the people who play backgammon here amaze me with their skill and lightening speed. As soon as the die stop rolling, the other player immediately picks up and rolls them without waiting or watching. At a split second glance, he knows what move he will be making and what numbers he hopes his die will land on. This must have been a rare moment of stillness.

Poofy at New City

Got to love Mr. Security's new poofy pal.

D's B-day

So when in Hawler, we just survive from one B-day to the next... D's birthday was really some time ago, but I am posting now as we miss her... (Hope she is having fun in Paris). This pic shows her and S and a gift from Z and E... Too bad you can't see the Americana hose on the Nargile.

High School in Kurdistan

What were your experiences of high school? Maybe, like me, your experiences of high school are from both sides - as student and teacher... and maybe neither experience was particularly brilliant. Although I rather enjoyed teaching high school in Japan and Korea, it's hard to imagine teaching high school here.

Like NE Asia, the learning is teacher-centered and students memorize everything from their textbooks (which are left over from the 70s - This is NOT an exaggeration). There is no library, there are no supplemetary materials, no photocopiers for teachers, no... Well, I think you get the point. The building itself it old, run down, decorated with graffitti, the halls and calssrooms lined with trash. But on a more positive note, the classrooms were unexpectedly energetic! Every time the teacher asked (or didn't ask) a question, the students hands all shot up and they squirmed in their seats anxious for a nod from the teacher - an invitation to stand up and speak. Soemtimes if the answer was incorrect, the teacher would nod at another student and they would start speaking overtop of the first one. All in all, it was quite intersting to watch. I viewed two lessons; English and Arabic before a bell rang signalling the end of school - or at least the first school. All the girls (schools are segregated) packed up and filed out of the school and the school's office was closed and locked. Then the office across the hall was opened and the boys filed in. The out-of-focus picture below is from the girl's school.

The school was in Sallahadin. The picture below this are all of the area:

Khanzad...

Sallahadin...

My host K and I.

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.