However, there isn't much a nice swim in a mountain stream can't fix. Everyone just swam in T-shirts and shorts... but as Sarah, Lesley and I didn't have shorts, we swam in our pajamas. (Photo by Lesley on Sarah's camera). 
And suddenly it was even more like Canada!On arrival near our picnic spot, we had to divide up all the groceries and cooking equipment and hike, clamber, slide down a treacherous trail (where there was a trail) to the spot where we would picnic. All of us were a little tired and a little terrified of how we would, with all the cooking gear, make our way back up. (The photo below shows the less treacherous and better-known trail that we took on the way back). Note that Lorene's uncle (the one to thank for the boar, carries his boar-hunting rifle). 
Can you see the indentation of the palm and the tips of the fingers?
Lesley's photo shows the door from the inside looking out. 
An the alter, as you can see, is really set against the cave wall and is hidden by a maroon curtain embellished with golden crosses. 
This is Lorene's mom sitting on the front porch the first morning. 
Lesley loved the flora and fauna, could correctly identify much of the vegetation and took many photos, including this one. I think she called it a globe flower?
This is the little hut the mountain boar babies were kept in... plus some other flowers (which I can't identify). 
Imagine having a summer home perched on the edge of a valley, with a thatched roof porch... 
and a swing... (The bottom two photos were taken by Sarah).
We finally found our way around the hair pin turns and onto a path balanced precariously on the end of a drop into a valley which gradually narrowed into two tire tracks with grass growing in between... Lorene's family's house! We got out and went directly to her uncle's house... one of the men with rifles. There was a fire crackling and grilling on the fire were skewers of freshly caught wild mountain boar interspersed with the skewer of garden-grown vegetables. 
As Lorene's family are Orthodox Christians rather than Muslim's, we were able to wash the chunks of boar down with plenty of beer and raki. Lesley said the Iraqi raki is smoother and more licorice-like than the Turkish variety. (I suppose you already guessed they weren't Muslim given that we were eating pork)
Although I am not sure that I can say that boar is my favorite meat, the leftovers, served a couple days later, cooked with fresh organic veggies from the garden in front of the house (tomatoes, onion greens, marrow, zuccini, etc) was fabulous. Lorene and Lina's dad is a great cook! 
And in case you were wondering what Iraqi mountain boar look like, here is a picture of a few babies that the hunters managed to capture. Believe me, the adults aren't nearly so cute. (Top photo is by Sarah, bottom one by Lesley).
In this post, I'd like to introduce you to Lina. Lina is the sister of a student who passed already. She is one of six extraordinary siblings. From a tiny village in Berwar, all the kids in the family are super-acheivers. As you can well imagine, it isn't easy for many Iraqis to travel as even the process of getting a passport is difficult (forget the visa). But Lina has travelled all over the Middle East by playing an excellent game of PING PONG!!! The photo on the left shows Lina with just a few of her medals. She is particularly proud of winning bronze in Egypt. 
And the bottom photo shows Lina playing her uncle in the Assyrian Culture Center in Kani Masi, Berwari. By the way, although they live in that small village (photos in post to come), most of her relatives speak English among many other languages. Her oldest brother has completed two MAs, one in the US on a Fullbright scholarship and the other in the UK on a British scholarship. Lorene lived 9 months in the US after being selected for an Iraqi exchange program. The two eldest have good jobs and the youngest... well, we will see what she does. What a lot of pressure to live up to her siblings.
After a trying day (you will have already read about my day-long call marathon with Aras cargo after which no package arrived), I have finally made it to the airport. I took a cab and the driver offered me a cheap rate to drive me direct rather than to the airport bus stop. This was a mistake as the driver insisted on trying to teach me Turkish and Kurdish the whole way and asked me uncomfortable questions even though I tried to make it clear that I had a very jealous boyfriend. 
So in case you weren't aware, the real reason for my trip to Istanbul is that I am distrustful of the dentists in Hawler. I suppose this isn't such a nice things to say, but as Dr. T quit Sema Hospital on Doctor's street, I haven't felt at all inclined to go. Ok, so why not just not go to the dentist at all you might ask. Well, before quitting, Dr. T told me that I was likely in urgent need of a root canal. And indeed the dentist here told me that something has induced trauma and hence nerve damage has caused infection which could spread and damage other roots. They did half the job and I must return for the other half in 4-5 weeks... so I guess you will be reading more about Istanbul again soon. 
Balık ekmek served on a boat by men in fancy dress. 
The view across the water from the fish sandwich boats (Galata Tower).
And a view of the bus loop from the restaurant at Storks.
Spices for sale in a covered bazaar. 
Old ladies selling pigeon feed and children chasing them (the pigeons, not the old ladies).
Of course I notice the Turkish flags everywhere; they are hard not to notice. 
But I didn't notice them men selling flags for upcoming soccer matches. 
On Monday night, there were two Gala events taking place nearby! One was a party at the Italian Embassy - a party that Tiziana was well prepared for with her dress from Milano. As it was an invite only party, I didn't go with her and her partner... However, while picking up some take-out a restaurant nearby (to prepare for a marathon evening of watching as many episodes of the 4th season of LOST as possible before falling asleep), I met a Chinese American woman who was doing the same as she was avoiding going to an IATA bash. After changing into pajamas and settling down on the sofa, I got the call that there was nobody on the door and that I should come to the Italian embassy party... too bad the call came just that little bit too late.
The above photo was taken simply because the shop's name contained 'Baghdad'... Baghdad Curtain.
And this photo is taken on a side street. On the main street, which was apparently narrowed to 2 lanes from 4 lanes in order to accommodate more pedestrians on the sidewalks, there are no vegetable sellers. But here on the side streets, you get no ordinary vegetables like onions and tomatoes, but artichokes!
Anyway, after arrival, it was decided that I would spend the night at Memet's house, or rather at the house of Felice - his father's Wife No. 2 (pictured above). I had a great time here... she was very comfortable, casually tossing cigarettes to any and all who cared to smoke and wildly gesturing as she told stories. She talked about how hard life has been since her husband passed away (she has 3 small daughters and 1 son). But later I heard that life is harder still for Memet's mother - Wife No. 1 - who didn't receive any of the property when her husband died. It was all left to Felice. 
And tonight I will stay at Cengis' house with his wife (only 1) and their 6 children. Above is Hakan, the oldest boy, Erkan, Serkan and Yakub (spelling?). Gukhan (the boy I traveled from Erbil with) and Hilal are missing. Hilal, the only daughter, took me shopping in the market and was wonderfully warm. She gave me a headscarf that she had enbroidered herself. Apparently, the embroidery speaks to those in the know. I wonder what the pattern on mine says...
And finally, this is Cengis and his wife with their youngest. It is wonderful how close the family is. I suppose given the amount of space a family this size lives in, it is no wonder. There is little privacy. At night, Cengis and his wife will sleep in one room, the two oldest boys in another, Hilal and myself on dushaks on the living room floor with the 3 yougest boys between us.
It is strange how things which might ordinarily appear normal to me in Canada have become something to write about here in Hawler. I took this photo in our school parking lot as I was struck by both the casual attitudes and attires of both students.
