In Turkish city of Samsun I met an American girl called Kara. We planned to travel together in South-Eastern Turkey. One of the destinations which Kara wanted to visit was Ulupamir. Although our plan finally did not work out and we could not travel together, I decided to still go there alone. Ulupamir is a Kyrgyz village in the Kurdish area of Turkey. After communist Saur Revolution which took place in Afghanistan in 1978 some of Afghanistan’s inhabitants decided to flee. A large clan of Kyrgyz people from Pamir mountains, in particular from the Eastern part of the Wakhan corridor, fled to Pakistan. They did not wish to stay there, however, and finally were invited by Turkish military government, shortly after 1980 Turkish coup d’état, to settle in Turkey. This invitation was made because Kyrgyz just as Turkish are Turkic people.
Big anxiety
I have to say that my travel plan meant a wholly new step for me. I was supposed to go to a village where I knew no one and where I would have to ask its inhabitants for “a couch.” I was very anxious to pop up there just like that out of the blue. My character made it quite difficult. I do not feel quite comfortable with the idea of coming somewhere counting on someone’s hospitality. To arrive without my own arrangement with the idea that there would be someone to help me. But since this journey means pushing myself to new and unusual for myself things, I decided to give it a try. Remember, it was in the beginning of February and Eastern Turkey was fully covered with snow and on the day when I travelled to Ulupamir the temperature during the day hit -20. Sleeping in a tent was thus out of the question.
Not that easy to reach Ulupamir…
Hasan Abdal good-bye sign
… because it is situated among Kurdish villages. And Kurds will not simply let you go there, they are too hospitable for that. After hitchhiking from Doğubayazıt through Tendürek Geçidi (Garnidzor Pass) at 2644m, crossing city of Çaldıran where it was over -20, and visiting devasted Erciş, as an effect of a heavy earthquake 3 months earlier, I found myself on the beginning of a mountain road leading up to Ulupamir and other villages. Since I knew that it could take very long time for me to see any car going there, I was happy to jump on a dolmus (little bus) filled with Kurds which arrived soon after. As soon as I entered it, I was asked who I was and what I was doing. When my fellow passengers understood that I had no friends in Ulupamir and that I was going there just like that – to explore, I was invited by one of them to visit his village first and stay in his brother’s house before going to Ulupamir. I accepted this very kind invitation and after half an hour or so I found myself in Hasan Abdal! As I was already a guest I was not allowed to pay for dolmus.
Hasan Abdal
Here, it is very hard to find words which could describe my experiences and those people’s hospitality. I became a part of their family in no time. I was being taken care of in a way which I was still not really used to, even after amazing hospitality of Turks in my previous time in Turkey and after my stay in Doğubayazıt (links to previous posts). I could not even walk to the toilet alone, all the doors would be open for me on the way, and special slippers put in front of me just before entering the toilet, and then I would be assisted in washing my hands in the courtyard (remember it was a countryside, here is a picture of the bathroom). We would communicate using those few words of Turkish that I had learnt over the course of the previous month and an English-Turkish dictionary which was present at the house. I was taken on a tour around the village, which included encounter with the most violent dogs I have ever seen, and took part in all the family meals and made simple conversations with various family members. Topics included, of course, travelling and history. Among others, I learnt about killings which took place in the village in the 30s.
Mattresses for sleeping
I would love to tell you much more about this amazing day, and most importantly about customs of the people I met, but I simply cannot find more time for it. Maybe just one important thing connected with hospitality. From what I have seen Kurds mostly do not use beds, they simple unfold mattresses on a ground each day. On one of the photos you can see a pile of such mattresses. What is important, they have many more than needed for the household members. Thus, having a guest, in terms of sleeping, is very simple for them. In the evening, they will just unroll one mattress more. No shiny preparations and no need of arrival notification few days in advance, as in many European cultures for instance. Those people are used to having many guests at many occasions. In my impression, family members visit each other often and without unnecessary pompous aura. I love this approach.
All the pictures from Hasan Abdal can be browsed in the Gallery.
Kyrgyz village of Ulupamir
My hosts helped me to hitchhike to the crossing with the road which led to Ulupamir. I wanted to walk those 7-8 remaining kilometers but both my hosts and locals living in the village at the crossing were quite dramatically stating that it would be too dangerous because of the wolfs. I could hardly believe them that anything could happen during the day-time but finally I caved in and waited for a dolmus. I guess my experience with extremely violent dogs from the day before helped me not to be too confident. Soon a dolmus arrived and again I was greeted by a bunch of very talkative and hospitable Kurds. They dropped me off close to the village and did not allow me to pay for a ticket again.
Goats in front of Ulupamir
While walking in the direction of the village I was passed by strange goats and few horsemen. I had already felt that this was a different place. Built just 30 years ago, reminded me more of a small Soviet-styled Siberian settlement (not that I have been to any) – there were no normal houses, just little blocks of flats with two floors. At the time, there were around 3’000 people living there! Upon entering I was greeted by a a guy in my age who waved to me from his balcony asking where I was going and what I was searching for. I told him shortly about my intentions and he advised me to meet with the head of the village and ask him for a place to stay. Soon I found his house and was greeted by his wife who offered me a tea and inquired me about my visit. With translation help from my friend from Samsun, Can, she understood why I came and offered me a bed in their house. She also designated her young son to show me around. I attended adhān in a local mosque with him where I again met Tuncay, who greeted me at the entrance of the village before.
Tuncay’s family
Tuncay's mother with my sock
He invited me to his house where I met his family with whom I spent my entire day in Ulupamir. They were very lovely people. I was offered food and tea with milk and salt (I wish I was not so courageous and did not try the tea!) and in return tried to teach Tuncay, who was an Eglish university student, some English and show his siblings how to make origami. He then showed me his horse and we went out in the snow where he showed how well he could ride it (a big picture above). When in home again, his mother spotted that I had a whole in one of my socks, which I earlier received from Zahari in Bulgaria (made by his grandmother). Without any questions she just came up to me with needle and thread and asked for the sock. Soon after I had no hole anymore! From Tuncay’s father I received a very warm winter hat made in the village from leather of animals which they hunted themselves in the mountains – a very special gift. So not only I was greeted by them with great hospitality, I received gifts from them too… I spent the evening in the house of the head of village, where I ate dinner with the whole family and played with kids again. All the food I ate contained a fresh meat from local animals with such well-cooked rice that I could not stop eating it. Soon, I could happily rest under few blankets in a very comfortable bed. In the morning, I jumped on a local Kyrgyz dolmus going to Ercis and I began hitchhiking to Tatvan to meet Israfil from Couchsurfing.
Mutual excitment
To summarise, both those days were very special moments. I met very good and hospitable people. And although in Ulupamir I could not feel this immense and honest hospitality which I could feel among Kurds of Eastern Turkey, I was extremely lucky to meet Tuncay’s family. If it was not for them, my stay in Ulupamir would not be such a memorable experience. From my impression, in Ulupamir they receive quite many guests like me, who just show up out of nowhere interested in seeing a Kyrgyz settlement. During their festivity which takes place in April, if I remember correctly, there are many hundreds people coming over. But I guess this is nothing knew – if you are thinking of visiting some villages to see how people live there, go to those that are rather unknown and unpopular. This way, not only you are going to be excited about the meeting but the people you meet will be excited too!
See the pictures from Ulupamir here.
In the beginning of February I hitchhiked with a road from Kars to Igdir in Eastern Turkey. It is one of the experience that I will never forget. Just check the video above for breathtaking views. Below, in turn, you can see where it was.
The second video I wanted to share is from Iraq. I have already written about hitchhiking on a tractor from Suly to Helebce before but now I wanted to post a video too. In the end, any ride that brings you closer to your destination is good, especially if you have a chance to exchange few smiles with locals.
Where it was? Here:
I was supposed to start writing about Iran but I realised that I still had few things more to share with you from Turkey and Iraq. I will start by posting a video I made in Ankara. My friend Cagri and his own friend invited me on one cold January evening to a famous kokoreç spot in Ankara. You can find there few restaurants which specialise in preparing this special dish. It is made of goat and lamb intestines. Since my travel rule tells me that I should try everything that is given to me, I reluctantly (but still) tried kokoreç. All in all, it actually turned out to be very tasty! Above, you can see a video showing how it is prepared. The most interesting part is that the cook makes some music while preparing it.
I remember when I conceived the idea of coming to Belarus in the beginning of my journey. It seemed to me to be quite a brave idea at the time. I still remember the faces of some of my friends and family members when I told them about it. I have already described some thoughts connected with travelling to Belarus in a previous post “Across-the-border prejudice.” After having a great experience, meeting very hospitable and amazing people, and most importantly, after uncovering big question marks and facing own unverified superficial assumptions and predictions, I could create an own understanding of what Belarus was. When my question marks vanished, which beforehand allowed some doze of fear to lurk behind, I was left with a brilliant impression of this country, should the politics be put aside. In such a way, my previous doubts and fears seemed somewhat trivial and childish. I discovered what was hidden behind the fence of solely political media coverage and behind societal fear resulting from that coverage. Yes, in Belarus I met people and saw their normal lives, because what else could have I seen? Yet we often seem to think that there is nothing besides negative politics. We imagine the worst and we put normal lives of normal people out of the equation.
Among other memorable experience, I will never forget my new friends, Kirill and Oleg, soldiers from Belorussian military who took me in as a guest in Pinsk only after a phone call from our mutual friend. Picture with Oleg above, September 2011.
Kosovo, still doubts
Despite this experience I still had had doubts about what could have expected me in Kosovo. While hitchhiking through Serbia I was warned numerously against going there. It was described to me as some kind of super-dangerous war-zone, a definite no-go area – most of Serbs would suggest. I have to admit that it kept me a bit anxious. Anyway, my innate strive for checking the reality by myself made me go there and have a brilliant time. Together with my back-then travel mate, Cecile, we stayed there twice and hitchhiked twice more through it. We made great friends and experienced a great welcoming atmosphere. Again, I had a chance to see how wrong various preconceptions can be. Above a picture of Sabahet, Fatos, and Bestar – Cecile’s and mine new friends from Kosovo, December 2011.
Iraq, a final hit
The final hit, I guess, came with my visit to Kurdish Iraq (February 2012). It made me realise even better how complicated and multi-layered the reality often is. Full of so many different places, with various levels of safety, with different ethnic groups, and socio-political realities. It made me never to easily believe any safety-warnings connected with travelling. And so I found myself hitchhiking through northern Iraq first and then through Iraqi-Iranian border at the end of February this year. I followed a road filled with oil-trucks which went through high snowy mountains. I hitched both with Iraqi Arabs, Iraqi Kurds, Iranian Kurds, and Iranian Persians. I walked through security checks with big smile and waved happily to passing soldiers. I knew there was nothing in particular to be afraid of. But two years ago, crossing Iraqi-Iranian border seemed to me like some kind of suicide mission during which I would maybe have to fight with Taliban (yes, Taliban) smuggling weapons through the border. Naturally, I knew nothing of such region as Kurdish Iraq, not to mention any other more complicated issues.
Iranian adventure has begun
At the border with Iran I walked through Iranian control without a queue, which similarly to many other borders applies only to locals. As a foreigner they usually invite you to pass straight away. Afterwards, I was asked to a little office where I had a chat with two officers while my passport was being checked. They were very nice guys and we shared some laughs. Among others, they asked me which was the best country in the world. I felt their anticipation to say that it was Iran but I recognised that it was a trap! I answered that of course it was Poland and I was granted entrance – I must have discovered what a correct password was. So remember, when you are asked the same question at Iranian border, say Poland! In this way, my Iranian adventure has begun. Above a picture of views which opened to me after crossing into Iran.
On my way to my last destination in Kurdish Iraq, Helebce (Halabja), I had my first hitchhiking ride on a tractor. After riding it for 2 kilometers or so I reached a security checkpoint where I got off to find a bit faster ride. A very nice man (here on the picture on the right, unfortunately I am very bad with names and I do not keep any diary at the moment) offered me a ride. Not only he brought me to Helebce but invited to his family’s house where I was offered a wonderful dinner. As you can imagine a hungry hitchhiker after a day-long thumbing must have been very happy with such an invitation! Ah, I would almost forget, while walking through one of the towns to reach its end to hitchhike, I was stopped by Peshmerga and took to their outpost next to the road. My passport was checked for roughly 15 minutes and in the meantime many Peshmerga took photographs with me. After 6 months of travelling it was the first time, although a very positive one, when I involuntarily visited a police station. The next time took place in Abkhazia 2 months later (which was 10 days ago) but was not so pleasant anymore since I spent a night in prison, about which later though.
Halabja poison gas attack
Helebce was not the most beautiful town you can imagine, to say the least, but it was full of touching history. Most importantly, on the 16th of March 1988, so when I was just 1 month old, it was bombed with chemicals by Saddam Hussein’s regime killing around 4-5’000 people in the attack itself and another 10’000 due to health complications in years after. In fact, the bombing took part in two series. Firstly, the city was bombed. Who managed to survive, hid themselves in the basements. In the evening people started to escape to the mountains since staying in the city was impossible due to chemicals in the air and danger of subsequent attacks. Then the second bombing came which was directed at the roads out of town filled with refugees.
Immense tragedy
In the museum of the attack, I had a chance to see both very moving pictures and videos made shortly after the attack. Above a picture showing one of the houses in the city. People were just dying where they stood. You can see more pictures in the designated gallery. In Helebce, I was hosted by a CouchSurfer Qaesar and his wife. His family survived the attack because they decided to leave the city later than the others. Just upon leaving it in the evening, they saw how the refugees going with the road to the North-East were attacked and so they went the other way to the South-East and so they escaped successfully.
Living and inanimate monuments
Most of the refugees walked to Iran where they stayed in refugee camps for 1 to 3 years before settling back in Iraq. Upon returning their lives were not easy. First of all, their city and houses were destroyed. Secondly, in the 90s economic sanctions were put by Western countries on Iraq and so it suffered insufficiency of food and basic products. Many people were forced to leave for Iran in order to work there and provide for their families. My host Qaesar at the age of 18 left to Iran and worked almost 5 years at construction sites to provide for his mother and sisters. This meant that he had to finish his education only with high-school. Apart of people’s difficult stories, you can see many inanimate monuments of the tragedy. In the city itself, you can see many graves where dead bodies where put together to rest. One of such graves on the picture above. Here you can see debris of the houses destroyed during the attack in the outskirts of Helebce too and symbolic graveyard for the victims. Read more about the attack on Wikipedia.
Dangi Nwe radio station
During my stay in Helebce, I had a chance to visit Dengi Nwe independent radio station for Women and Youngsters. Qaesar helped to establish the radio station, which is financed by a German NGO, Wadi. You can read more about the project here, and watch a video in German here. I guess it will be better than my description.
Trip to Belkha
During my stay in Helebce, Qaesar and his friend Hersh together with their wives and kids took me on a day trip to Kurdish villages at the border with Iran. It was up in the mountains and so we had a chance to make a snow fight. Other than that, we visited Tawela – the last village in Iraq which is surrounded by Iran from 3 sights, ate at a local meat bar (Qaesar on the picture), and most importantly visited Qaesar’s family in the village Belkha. Moreover, we saw a beautiful waterfall where local people come in the summer for picnics. It was an amazing day during which I had a chance to explore Kurdish culture. I ate a great meal with the whole family, talked with women about their situation (quite a difficult one, but this has to wait for a separate post), and play tavla and chess in a local shop. A great thank you goes here to Qaesar and Hersh for allowing me to experience all of that. Above a view of a few houses in Belkha.
Access full gallery here.
As a goodbye picture, Qaesar, his cousin and me in front of one of an uninhabited house nearby the waterfall.
My next station in Kurdish Iraq was Silêmanî (Sulaymaniyah), the second biggest city of Kurdish Region of Iraq (over 1 million in population). I checked the map of Hewrel for a road going in my direction and figured out that it was quite close to the Family Mall, where Houssem worked. I asked if he could drop me off at that road on his way to work. He was so kind to do it and so I found myself hitchhiking to Silêmanî on the morning of the 15th of February. Hitchhiking went well although I was still trying to communicate with people with my Kurmanji words which again and again was proving to be very inefficient. Instead of trying to learn Sorani I decided to try to survive until Iran without it. In fact, as usual – I had a piece of paper in Sorani explaining what I was doing. However, with an extremely high level of illiteracy in Kurdish Iraq it was not useful, most of my drivers could not read.
Amna Suraka
Amna Suraka Museum (Red Intelligence Museum) was one of the most interesting places that I have seen in Silêmanî. It was located in a former Ba’ath regime’s prison and intelligence headquarters. It was operational from 1979 until Kurdish uprising in 1991. It was used by the regime to oppress Kurds and dozens of them lost their lives there. This includes a relative of my Couchsurfing host Rebaz, who took me there. What was touching about this prison was that it was left as it had been captured in 1991. That means for instance that the blankets which were lying on the floor were the original ones which prisoners used to cover themselves. While sightseeing I made my steps over them knowing what they were. On the walls you can find calendars and signatures made by prisoners. Some of them, as I learnt, were made shortly before executions. Other than that there is not much there, because there was not much there before. This gives you a real feeling of tragedies which took place there.
Symbols of opression
In the other part of Amna Suraka Museum, there are 5’400 little light bulbs put on a ceiling of one of the corridors to symbolise 5’400 Kurdish villages destroyed under Saddam’s regime (although in some sources I found the number 4’000). On the walls there are 182’000 pieces of mirrors standing for 182’000 Kurds who lost their lives during Al-Anfal Operation. For more about it, please refer to an earlier post “What is Iraqi Kurdistan?” In yet another part of museum there was an exhibition of photographs concerning modern history of Kurdish Iraq. Unfortunately, the photographs were not undersigned. But with a little knowledge of history and Rebaz’s help I could guess what they depicted. Here is a photograph of Kurds escaping to Iran to seek refugee during Al-Anfal Campaign, here Iraqi Arab soldiers pose to a photograph with a dead Kurdish prisoner that they had just killed in Amna Suraka, and here you can see refugees killed with a second chemical attack during Halabja chemical attack while they were trying to escape to Iran.
Impressions of Silemani
Together with Rebaz we took a nice walk around Silêmanî. One of the local delicacy are sheep’s heads which you can easily find at a local bazaar. But the most important impression of the city that I had was that it was much more liberal and culturally-rich than Hewrel. I had a chance to have a tea in a nice bookstore-cafe where local opposition meets but I believe you cannot find such a place in the capital, Hewrel. It was Silêmanî where Kurds tried to demand democratic changes in Kurdish Region during the Arab spring and it is here where the opposition TV operates and is broadcast from.
Amazing tea-house
As a backgammon maniac I found my own refuge in a local tea-house where Rebaz brought me. Most of the people there were busy playing games and so I found myself in heaven. In one part of the tea-house they played backgammon (a strange Iraqi Kurdish variation where you do not beat each other but step over your opponent’s piece and thus block it), in another domino, and yet elsewhere cards. I had one cup of tea there but the time constraint did not allow me to try my luck with local players.
Rebaz and Lukasz
In Silêmanî I was very happy to meet Rebaz and Lukasz. Rebaz was my Kurdish Couchsurfing host thank to whom I could see the first Kurdish house in Iraq and stay there with his family for 2 days. He took me all around the city and made sure I was feeling good. Lukasz, in turn, was a Czech-Polish volunteer who knew so much about local politics and situation that it was pleasure to spend time with him and I have to admit that I learnt a lot. Above a picture of Lukasz (on the left) and a local Kurd during our domino play in one of the local Nargile (Shisha) bar.
All the pictures from this part of the trip can be found here.
A good-bye picture series presents this time door knocks from an old Kurdish door, as shown in a cultural part of Amna Suraka Museum. Make sure to notice that both knocks have different shape and weight so that they give different sound when knocking. One should be used by men and the other by women so that people inside of the house would know what was the gender of the guest who was coming.
While hitchhiking from Plovdiv, Bulgaria to Istambul, Turkey I had a chance two meet Hakan and Hakan. When they stopped to pick me up near Edirne, I came to the car and heard one saying “I am Hakan!” to which second one responded immediately “I am Hakan!” while nodding his head. In this way we all three started laughing very hard and so began my half-day trip together with two joyful men whose both name indeed was Hakan. Since they spoke virtually no English and I knew no Turkish at all, my first Turkish lesson began straight away on the first day in Turkey. I pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and they started to teach me many Turkish words which we then tried to use in a conversation straight away. Since we had travelled for half a day I wrote quite many words and phrases there. Few days ago, my girlfriend Dominika took that piece of paper back to Poland and surely it will be one of the great memories from my journey.
While we drove to Istambul, one of them sang his own song – the one which you can hear in the video. If I remember correctly it was a song about love. Before that happened we stopped in Kırklareli for 3 hours where they had a job to do. They had to put Erikli water commercial on a transportation van. I helped them a bit with that and meanwhile enjoyed my time in a suburb of Kırklareli. Couple of times we received tea and cookies from the family of the owner of the car, who lived in a block of flats just next to us. Both Hakans were very relaxed and full of good sense of humor. We would laugh over and over again about silly jokes that they made. I hope that this little description gives you a feel of hitchhiking because although this situation was very special, in the other sense it was not. While hitchhiking you will have a chance to experience dozens of various interesting moments, meet many interesting people, and do with them what they are supposed to do. I hope I encourage you a bit to hitchhike more (or at all)!
The second video features a musician playing at Bosphorus in Istanbul.
While in Zaxo I had a chance to see the most important tourist sight of the city, an ancient Delal Bridge. Compare with picture taken by Delgsh in April.
I am sorry for a long delay in writing. Recently, I have not really had a chance to sit down and write and so I fell a little bit behind. In Iran I had little time for myself, later in Azerbaijan I managed to write only 2 posts (the last ones), and in the last days my girlfriend Dominika visited me. We travelled together in Georgia and Armenia but again that meant no time for writing. Now that she unfortunately has left I will be trying to catch up a bit. Although this might prove to be hard since I planned to travel with Simonas, whom I met in Rustaveli, in Abkhazia from the 14th on which will mean again little time to write (right now I am in Kvareli in Georgia). I am not particularly happy about writing about things which happened up to 2 months before. Memories are not that fresh anymore and I often do not remember what I intended to write. This leads me to writing much less than I wished in order to catch up… But gathering new experiences is more important for me than running away somewhere to close myself with laptop for few days, so please forgive me. Anyway, now I would like to summarise some of my Iraqi experiences so that I could start writing about Iran.
A great welcome
The picture above shows two Kurdish businessmen that I met on the day I entered Iraq, which was in Mid-February already, and me. The one on the right, Ahmet, gave me a ride from Silopi in Turkey to Zaxo (Zakho) in Iraq. On the way we stopped at his friend’s office where I was offered a tea and access to internet, which I quickly used to let my mother and Dominika know how great my adventure in Kurdish Iraq had begun. A third man that I met in this office, Delgsh, bought me a local sim-card, charged it with some credit, and then paid me for a shared taxi to bring me all the way to the Kurdish capital of Hewlêr (Arbil/Erbil). I was reluctant to accept this last gift despite I felt the real honesty of the proposition. Nevertheless, it was getting a bit late and I was running a risk of not making it to Hewlêr before getting dark so in the end I agreed and accepted it. I guess it was hard for it to be a better way to enter a new country than to be greeted by 3 very hospitable and helpful men. My subsequent Kurdish Iraqi experience was similar, I met great people on my way whose help and company made my 9-day stay a very enjoyable experience. I was happy to discover that Kurds from Iraq proved to be as welcoming as Kurds from Turkey.
Obituaries
One of the interesting things which you will notice in Kurdish Iraq are black banners hanged nearby important crossings. These are local obituaries. In this way, further family members and friends can learn about someone’s death. As a side-note, on my pictures from Kurdish Iraq you will notice that the alphabet used there is an Arabic alphabet. That does not mean, however, that people speak Arabic there (I mean, some do, but not that many and not that well). This is because Arabic alphabet, just like any other alphabet – be it Latin or Cyrillic, is used for writing many different languages, not only for Arabic language itself. Among others, Persian in Iran and Sorani in Kurdish Iraq are written with slightly customised Arabic alphabets (just as Polish uses adjusted Latin alphabet or Serbian adjusted Cyrllic).
Along the Tigris river
The highlight of my first-day trip was driving in between Judi Mountain and Tigris river. After travelling through somewhat bare and rigid landscapes of Eastern Turkey, I entered a green zone! All the fields were green and I could understand why civilisation started right there. Hot temperature all year long together with well-irrigated fertile land formed a great dwelling place for humans thousands years ago where they could cultivate rich land. I have to say I was very thrilled and happy to be driving there.
Where a big business meets with a poor country
My stay in the Kurdish capital of Hewlêr (Erbil/Arbil) was very intersting. I couchsurfed with two very nice and friendly expats Matthew and Houssem who lived in Ankawa – a Christian district of the capital. This part of the town is mostly populated with Assyrians who are mostly Chaldean Catholics. Large part of them has been immigrating for years from Baghdad and Mosul to avoid prosecution. While being there, we visited a Syriac Heritage Museum – you can find some pictures in the Hewlêr gallery. What strikes in Kurdish Iraq in general, and maybe a bit more particularly in Hewlêr, is how this previously rather poor and war-torn region becomes richer and richer through the recently intensified oil trade. Just compare the main square of Hewlêr from the first photograph with the second picture of the average downtown street hidden behind in a maze of small passages, or imagine seeing this Ford Mustang parked just next to this street.
The Citadel of Hewrel
The main attraction of the capital was its Citadel, about which you can read more on Wikipedia. It is supposed to be continuously inhabited since the 5th century BC – so for over 2500 years. I am not the author of the first picture, it was uploaded to Flickr by Jan Sefti. Normally, I do not upload pictures not made by me but in this case I really wanted you to feel the magnificence of the citadel which this photograph greatly depicts. At the time of my visit the citadel was under renovation. You can see it in my own picture above. All the houses were emptied and most of the streets and passages were dug to prepare new ones. I guess the access to the most of the citadel was restricted but I wandered all around anyway without anyone reprimanding me. This was actually the nicest part. I could freely walk all around the empty houses and streets without anyone around. I could climb all the stairs and roofs and I had a great joy in doing so.
Finally, I found a way how to get to this balcony through a roof of one of the houses. I sat there with my laptop for 2 hours in a beautiful sun wearing just a T-Shirt (remember, it was mid-February) and wrote the post “Across-the-border prejudice.” Great moments!
Kurdish Iraqi tea
While strolling around Hewlêr, I took a sit in one of the local tea-houses. I had a small chat with the men from the picture, which could only go as far as my personal 1-page Kurdish-Polish dictionary allowed. Another man though spoke a basic English. Since he had a book listing all the children names we started talking about our families. In one part of our conversation I tried to explain the concept of being together with a woman before marrying her. It was not straightforward since “if you are already sleep with a woman why don’t you marry her?” but I think I managed. I enjoy such conversations when both parties are caught off-guard with their assumptions being clearly exposed. But I wanted to write here about something else: tea in Kurdish Iraq. All around the region no one will ask you whether you want to have a tea with sugar, it will simply be served with a lot of it. Then you face a choice: if you like it sweet – you can just stir it well, if you like it somewhat sweet – just stir a bit and leave half of the sugar undissolved, and if you like it bitter – do not stir!
That would be it about the first part of my stay in Iraq. Click here for all the pictures from Zakho and hitchhiking, and here for pictures from Hewlêr. Fod a good-bye a photograph of a shop with wall-carpets situated in front of the citadel.
Another aspect of my travel is that I got more acquainted with the world of travellers. I meet them more when travelling, I often browse through their blogs nowadays, and read their posts on various forums. And here came another surprise of my travel, namely I noticed how little understanding people have for the places that they visit. It struck me as odd that fellow travellers so often do not really feel what the reality around them is all about. They become so easily angry with the things that are different, less efficient, and more absurd than back at their Western homes. Instead of accepting the way things go, and if they wish, criticising the reality in a steady rational way so that it maybe becomes better, I see that they are just angry and outraged. They voice their unhappiness but do very little to learn how to accept and deal with the different reality.
Minds stuck back home
First time that I started thinking about this issue was when I was transcribing interviews of dr. Szkudlarek with Dutch expatriates in India. One of the managers which she talked to was a really intelligent man, listening to whom proved very interesting to me. He told her a story of him going to a municipality office somewhere in India and trying to solve a formal issue. As he said, such things normally took up to 4 hours due to Indian bureaucracy. As he had lived in India for 2 years or so already he told her that he very well knew how things went around there, and calmly sat in the waiting room to go through the whole lengthy procedure. However, as he explained there were some other foreigners there, who he knew, who despite living in India for even longer than him still could not accept the lengthy waiting time and the way the local bureaucratic system worked. As he related, they would be very angry, they would complain to him about the system and how wrong it was, and in general they would be very dissatisfied. He argued that those people, although living so long there, did not learn to accept the local reality. They still had their Home and Western Expectations although they were not home anymore. They were in India but could not cope with it due to their lack of acceptance of a different place with different rules. They were stuck with their minds back in Europe and this made them somewhat unhappy.
Accepting the reality
This is exactly what I have found again and again when I travel. Travellers who I would expect to have better attitudes than the men described above, precisely because of their lengthy travells which according to my expectation should educate them, would still show so little understanding and acceptance of different realities which they meet on their way. It just so that people who cannot learn will not learn, I guess, despite travelling even for years.
Take a look here on that blog, you can find a relation there written by Christoph Rehage, a 31-year old German man who attempted to walk from China to Germany. He writes about a situation that he experienced in North-Western China. He was not able to prolong his visa despite his expectations and secondly he ran into trouble when he took a photograph of a police station, in which he first had an unpleasant situation concerning that visa prolongation. My first point is that after walking for 11 months through China he should know that things do not work there as one usually expects. After all, it is a communist bureaucratic country where it can be perfectly expected to meet unpleasant and rude state workers, who often not only can interpret rules as they wish but often will not help you even when you are clearly right. Secondly, China is a country with many complicated bureaucratic procedures and so it is not hard to find oneself in a wrong place to ask for a visa-extension. Thirdly, why would he even be surprised to have problems after picturing a police station. I mean, this is just so obvious that if you do it you risk running into trouble. Hence, I do not understand his pejorative tone and immense negativeness in his post. The only person he can be angry at in the photography situation is himself. He had been to China so long and he should know best himself how not to run into trouble. If he really wishes to take a photo, then he should take the risk into account and accept the possible consequences of a difficult situation. When it comes to rude policemen, just accept them. Do not be angry each time you encounter them, they are as they are – an unpleasant product of a Chinese totalitarian system. As a side note here, I am not against criticising policemen for being unpleasant or Chinese system for being bureaucratic, what I am only against is Christoph’s tone and attitude which can be felt throughout his post.
Learn and accept
I could give many accounts of similar attitudes. One of the most important is an American traveller whom I met in Kurdish Iraq. After travelling in most of the countries on the globe (sic!), he still had one of the most closed minds that I came across. When talking with me, he voiced his dissatisfaction about so many situations which he described that I could not believe my ears that this man had had travelled so much and yet understood the places he went to so little. And it is not only about others. I remember how I myself was angry in the beginning of my hitchhiking in Ukraine when people asked for money only after they gave me a ride. I simply did not understand the social reality of the place and was angry because of my false Polish and Western European expectations. Fortunately, I was fast to realise that and learnt how to work with it. Anyway, my intention here is not to give you dozens of examples. I hope that you can see my point already with those few brief ones.
All I wish to say is that I really would like to see travellers leave behind their Home Expectations and Home Rules and try to understand and somewhat accept the way other places work. Naturally, criticise what you do not like but do it not because of your rage but because of true intention to make a place you understand better.
Above a random picture I made in Hewler (Arbil) in Kurdish Iraq. It somehow seemed to fit.
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EDIT (10.04.2012): I received a comment from my friend Florian Wild who pointed my attention to quite unfortunate phrasing in one part of my post:
(…) But i dont agree with sone points, basically because you wrote it too general. I think you are gonna agree with me: you should distinguish between cultural-traditional issues and personal ones: an official treating you badly in a communist country is surely sth you should expect, nevertheless it is still this official’s fault: you cant JUST blame the system for it! The way you wrote it made it seem a bit like this, but we should make that point clear. Everybody is responsible for his own steps.
I naturally agree with Florian and I am sorry not to be clear enough in my original post, I rushed too much with publishing it. Thanks Florian!
Pay attention that the sign is written in 4 languages, first in Kurdish (Soranî dialect I guess), then in Arabic, English, and Turkish.
Most of us, including me from few months ago, imagine Iraq as extremely dangerous place. In our thoughts, we see a war-torn country full of violence and aggressive people intending to harm any foreigner. However, rarely anyone is aware of a part of Iraq usually referred to as Kurdish Iraq, Iraqi Kurdistan, or Kurdish Region of Iraq. It is an autonomous region situated in the North-East of the country where most of country’s Kurds live. Roughly, they constitute 15% of the overall population, while Arabs account for 75%, Turkmen 9%, and Assyrians 3%. In that sense, Iraq, which is the cradle of our civilisation (despite the text message you get upon entering Macedonia, FYROM), is a very multi-cultural and diverse place. Similarly, safety situation is diverse as well. While Mosul is thought to be one of the most dangerous cities in the world still torn by internal Sunni-Shi’ite-Christian conflict, I could hitchhike just 45 km away from it without danger. And accidentally I still happened to travel with a road further from Mosul than the main road which passes just through outer Mosul suburbs and is safe too. But behind that road still a lot of violence takes place, a week ago another 12 people lost their lives in a suicide attack in a city just next to Mosul.
How is that possible? Cities of Mosul and Kirkuk lie just off the territory controlled by Kurds in the Arab-controlled part of the country (although some of the districts of Kirkuk are actually under Kurdish control). As such, they do not belong to much safer Kurdish Iraq. Kurds, who live in territories lying in border areas of Iran, Iraq, Turkey and Syria, tried to gain their independence after the fall of the Ottoman Empire. Their struggle, however, was unsuccessful and many of them found themselves living in a freshly established Iraq. In 1968 Sunni Ba’ath Party took control of predominantly Shi’ite Iraq in a coup. One of Ba’ath Party’s political goals was Arabization of Iraq. All Assyrians, Turkmen, and Kurds suffered from that process. Between 1978 and 1979, 600 Kurdish villages were destroyed and 200’000 Kurds had to re-settle. In 1979, a prominent member of this party, Saddam Hussein, became a new president serving in office until US-led invasion of 2003. Under his reign, Kurds suffered even heavier than before. Envisioned by Hussein Al-Anfal Campaign was designed to exterminate Kurds. During that campaign, 1986-89, 180’000 Kurdish civilians were killed and 4’000 out of 4’655 Kurdish villages were destroyed (sic!). Upon an uprising of 1991 which tried to take advantage of First Gulf War and with the help of American no-fly zone over Kurdish territories, Hussein’s army left Kurdish Iraq in October 1991 never to return again. Since that time, Kurds enjoyed autonomy. Between 1994 and 1997 a civil war took place in Kurdish Iraq which ended up in a division of power between two main parties, PUK and KDP, which holds till today. During the last War in Iraq Kurds fought together with Western Coalition. Most importantly however, since there were no Arab troops in Kurdish Region, it was saved from any heavy fighting. Moreover, since Kurds saw the invasion as a good chance to further strengthen their autonomy and to get rid of Saddam Hussein they did not oppose Americans and there was no internal conflict within Kurdish Iraq. Actually, many coalition soldiers would come to Kurdistan to enjoy their free time in a secure place where they could freely hang around, which took place in high contrast to the situation in the Arab Iraq.
For those reasons, Kurdish Iraq of today is governed by Kurds and their own military, Peshmerga (“those who face death”). As such it is free of most of the trouble which threatens the rest of the country. Furthermore, Kurds tried never to take sides in Sunni-Shi’ite conflict although themselves they are mostly Sunni. For this reason, in Iraqi media you can always read about Sunni, Shi’ite, and Kurds, who are thus put aside from the religious division of Iraq. So yes, in Kurdish Iraq there are no bombings, no trouble, no incidents, whatsoever. Still, it is not free of its own issues which include prosecution of political opposition (I visited Sulaymaniyah precisely on the 1st anniversary of those events) or Iranian and Turkish bombings and shelling of border villages, admittedly to address PKK but often harming just civilians (check the report from the link).
Travelling through Kurdish Iraq
So that was a historical background. I naturally recommend you getting into the topic more, if you are interested, since things are more complicated than my simplified story. Now, I would like to tell you a bit about travelling through Kurdish Iraq. Most of Westerners do not need a visa for entering a Kurdish Iraq but they need one for travelling to other parts. On the border you just get an entry stamp which tells you that if you wish to stay more than 10 days you should register in a special office which will require you to make some medical tests. But if you do not intend to stay more there is nothing to worry about, no documents or registrations. What is important to note is that Kurdish Region is not divided from Arab part by a fixed border. There are just a lot of security checkpoints around the country. In the Kurdish area they are staffed with Kurdish Peshmerga and out of it with Arab Army. In the suburbs of Mosul or Kirkuk you can find co-operative checkpoints with both parties together. So once you travel too far you will meet an Arab checkpoint which will either turn you back or arrest for entering Arab Iraq without a visa. When I travelled from the Turkish-Iraqi border I crossed maybe 8 checkpoints on my way to Erbil (Hewler) and my passport was controlled twice. Soldiers at checkpoints were nice and concerned with security not with making hassle to anyone.
Problems with a good map
Do not trust Google Maps when it comes to Kurdish Iraq, nor any other map online. There are some roads which are not mentioned in any of the maps, mostly because of active construction taking place there. So just imagine a road passing north of Mosul just above it connecting the other roads so that one does not need to enter the city. This way you can travel safely from Zakho to Erbil without entering Mosul for real. When you do this, you actually do travel outside of Kurdish Region but as long as you stay on the road, no problem. As I was told, the checkpoints there are guarded by both Arabs and Kurds. Anyway, without an Iraqi visa you are allowed to take this road as it is the main road connecting the capital, Arbil, with Turkey. If you are curious about the road to Erbil from Zakho that I took, since I went with smaller road through the mountains, you can check Route section of this blog and zoom to Iraq. It was brand new and of good quality. In principle, I turned left to Dohuk from the main road to Mosul and went back into the mountains through Gali Kortk, Atrosh, Derke, and Baadre. Then I believe we joined the road from Mosul to Hewler and passed through Grdpan and Hawilan. You will not find most of those names on Google Maps since it shows Arabic names while those which I noted from local signs are transliterations of Kurdish names noted in Arabic into Latin alphabet. Above you can see the best map of this part of Iraq I have come across, you probably will not find a better map online. It is a map that Lukasz’s friend brought from US (Lukasz is a couchsurfer whom I met in Sulaymaniyah). I tried to add new roads to the map but do not rely too heavily on my accuracy. As always, the most important is to talk with people and to keep their opinion in check by your own research.
Refer to Joe’s post to get to know more information about taking the real mountain road through Amedija. When it comes to travelling from Erbil to Sulaymaniyah, the main road goes right through Koye (Koy Sanjaq). If you want to hitchhike ask for a road to Koye, it is close to the Family Mall in Erbil. On Google Maps this road is not really shown as any significant road. Again, you can go to Route section of this blog to see it, I drew it on Google Maps. Coming to Penjwin works accroding to Google Maps. Good luck!
Hitchhiking
Hitchhiking in Kurdish Iraq was easy-going. As usual, I prepared a slip of paper in a local language, Soranî - the most spread dialect of Kurdish in Iraq, explaining what I was doing and showed it to my drivers when we had no common langauge. Once I spoke Russian cause my driver’s wife was Russian, once English, some of Turkish, but otherwise had no common language and tried to communicate with some of the Kurmanji words I learnt in Turkey, but they were not too useful actually (Kurmanji and Soranî were not as close as I anticipated). Anyway, people did not seem too astonished with me hitchhiking and were helpful. Because of the oil Kurdish Iraq develops quite rapidly. They get a lot of money from their own oil just north of Kirkuk and 17% from national income from oil. As a result, there a lot of fancy cars driving around and it was not difficult at all to get a ride. If one does not wish to hitchhike, there a lot of shared taxis going in all directions. A ride from Zakho to Erbil for instance would cost you about 13 dollars. Above a picture of a tractor driver with whom I was hitchhiking on my way to Sulaymaniyah.
There is only one border crossing with which you can enter to Iraq from Turkey, it is between Silopi and Zakho. It is, however, closed for pedestrians on the Turkish side. I was fortunate to get a ride in Silopi straight to Zakho with a Turkish Kurdish businessman. On the way out, one can come back to Turkey or choose one of the two open border crossings with Iran, one in Hajl Homaran and other near Penjwin (there is a third one near Halabja but open only for trucks and I doubt whether they are allowed to take hitchhikers). I went with the one near Penjwin. It was full with Iraqi petrol trucks carrying oil to Iran and the road leading to it went through beautiful mountains. At both the borders no significant questions were asked (“no weapon?”,”tourist?” and “where is your bike?”) and I crossed them very fast without my luggage being checked at any occasion.
In the upcoming days I will prepare a post about non-transport non-historical account of my impressions from Kurdish Iraq. If you have any practical questions though, feel free to ask.
Albums with pictures from Iraq can be accessed here.
