Adventures in Iraq

The last time that I wrote I said that I had hired the cousin of my young friend Muhammad to drive me out to a couple sites with Muhammad as my guide. That ended up happening and I'm glad that it did because it's difficult to get around by yourself around here. Very few people speak English as the schools aren't very good, and public transportation is extremely primitive. Muhammad's cousin who drive likes to be called 'Jack' and he drives some crappy Chinese car. Badly. I think his driving was the most dangerous feature of this trip. He's very proud of his Kurdish music and loves to sing every song at the top of his lungs and clap along even while on twisting mountain roads. I guess it's not as bad as my driver in Turkey who would roll cigarettes while driving.

The first destination that I had in mind was the small mountain town of Amadiya. The guide book doesn't say much about it, but it earned a color photograph in my guide book and was ranked as the #5 highlight in the Middle East. Honestly I can't imagine how it could possibly deserve such a review but hey, it's probably the most scenic place in Kurdistan for whatever that's worth. The town is built on top of a high and flat plateau with rocky cliffs surrounding. The rest of the landscape is a mixture of wide grassy valleys and steep rocky canyons dotted with scrubby oak trees.

Amadiya looked particularly impressive from a distance but up close it looks just like any of the other cinder block villages that I've seen. Apparently it once had high defensive walls surrounding it but they're gone now and all that remains of the old defenses is a single carved marble gate on the far side of town. It did look pretty cool though and I was able to successfully coach Muhammad through taking a decent photograph.

Muhammad is a young guy, 18 years old, but he'd really small for his age and always looks like he needs a bath. I've met a couple people on the street who know him and speak English and they both felt that he's kind of crazy. He's always trying to play my ukulele and insists on carrying it on his back, but he refuses to learn a single chord or strum despite my many efforts. He prefers just making an awful racket in front of as many people as possible. I've had him in my hotel room a couple times and I'm always careful to keep anything valuable out of sight and in my satchel, which I take with me to the bathroom. He's mostly nice I guess, but I just don't trust him and he's a terrible translator. I really don't understand what kind of work he does because after we watched the football game the other night he got called in to his work (supposedly fixing cars) but it was 11 PM. He told me that the black grease on his hands was from a car, but a few days later I found him shining shoes on the street. Anyways, I buy him a sandwich or a beer each day and he seems somewhat grateful, telling me that I'm his brother from another mother.

After taking a picture of the one scenic thing around town we walked the streets for a while and passed a girls school. He told me that the schools in Amadiya are known as the best in Kurdistan and that his school in Dohuk was terrible. He also asked me if I wanted to go inside for a look and I thought about it... it was 2pm on a weekday and I said that I did not want to go into a school in session but he insisted so I followed him in the front door. The principal met us after a minute of wandering the halls and we sat in his office for a while as Muhammad made up some crazy stuff I'm sure and told him that I wanted a tour of the school. After a while the Principal agreed and we walked into the hall.

In Kurdistan, the schools run from 9AM to 2:30 PM and teach all the usual subjects including music (the teacher plays an instrument and the students just sing) and they had a computer lab as well. None of the classroom doors had windows so to look in I had to enter. The Principal walked us into all five classrooms for inspection. Each time, the class of maybe 20 girls were sitting at their desks while their female teacher lectured in front. When we entered the first room, the class went silent, the Principal and the teachers said nothing, and Muhammad told me that if I wanted to say anything he would translate. I was mortified I struggled to find the words to meet the situation. I said hello in Kurdish (Chawani) and then I said my name, that I'm from America, and that I heard that they had great schools and I wanted to see them for myself. I also said that if they studied they could be whatever they want. After saying that terrible cliche I thought about it and realized that these Kurdish girls really could not be whatever they wanted for cultural reasons and I didn't repeat that in the next 4 rooms. It was really awkward and I wanted to stop entering classrooms but Muhammad and the Principal seemed amused and let the suffering continue. When we left the building I put Muhammad in a headlock and yelled at him. He loves roughhousing.

When we got back to Dohuk I went out shopping for a few pair of sunglasses because Muhammad broke what I had. They were in pretty bad shape already and I think they were about to break anyways. I found a great pair of RayBan knockoffs at an army supply shop. They sell all kinds of holsters, armored vests, tactical knives, scopes, lights, and whatever else a modern mercenary might want. I also bought a couple patches and called it a night.

The next day I met up with Jack and Muhammad again and we set off for the town on Lalish. The backpacker that I met in the hotel a couple days before (the only foreigner that I've seen yet) recommended it and it was in the guide book. We drove for a couple hours, had to get directions and make some u-turns, and eventually reached a small wooded canyon with a lot of cars parked on the sides of the lone road.

It turns out that Lalish isn't a town at all, but rather a religious compound with some temples, picnic areas, and small guesthouses with shared cooking spaces. People of the Yazidi faith come there to eat, worship, and be together. We were there on a Friday which is the first day of the weekend so it was packed with people eating, dancing, and wearing traditional costumes. Mostly the children wore the special outfits. The boys wore suits and the girls wore purple and plaid dresses.

The Yazidi are an unusual group in their part of the world. They believe in reincarnation, have their own holy books, and worship a peacock angel/god. Their god, Malak Taus fell from grace, and landed in the canyon of Lalish. He was later pardoned for whatever sins he committed but the story has made some people brand them as devil worshipers. The Yazidi people are harassed or killed by some Muslims and there are many stories of conflict. In 2007 a Yazidi girl fell in love with a Muslim boy, so her own people stoned her to death and a few weeks later in retaliation, Muslims forced 23 Yazidi off of a bus and gunned them down. There have also been some suicide bombings against Yazidi villages. Anyways, it's important for the Yazidi people to come together in Lalish and celebrate what they've got.

I wandered around the compound for a while (barefooted as is the custom) and after resting in the shade I was invited by some Yazidi to eat with them. After sitting with them I was invited by another group to eat a more elaborate meal with them and one of them spoke English so I enthusiastically accepted. They ate salad, rice with roasted lamb on top, and flat bread. The head of the lamb was split open and some brains were distributed but I declined. I regret that now, but it looked pretty bad at the time.

The Yazidi that I spoke to asked a lot of questions about America. We talked about Bush, Schwarzenegger (everybody in these countries knows he is my governor), other movie stars, and he told me some things about the Yazidi. They exist in Iraq, Syria, and Turkey, and they number about 500k. He said that they cannot travel to most of Iraq and that several of his brothers love in Europe. He said that it would be unthinkable for a 28 year old Yazidi to be unmarried and that he intended to have 5 kids when he had the chance. Children (boys) help pay for the retirement of their parents so it's seen as necessary. He also had a lot of questions about Christians and I tried to clear up some misconceptions like that we hate Muslims.

After lunch I walked down to the main temple of Lalish. It is a series of dark halls and some of them were exclusively for women. The entrance had a black snake carved into the wall and this apparently was the snake the plugged a hole in Noah's ark which some people say came to rest at this spot. I read that in the guide book because there's no way that Muhammad could/would have helped answer any questions about it. Some of the walls and columns were loosely draped in colorful silk cloth. You can tie knots into it to make wishes, and untie older knots to make room.

Some of the other halls were filled with jugs of oil and I could not figure out why they would store all of the oil in the temple but Muhammad wasn't helpful getting any answers. The Yazidi walking the halls played some games where they would toss bundled cloths onto a pile of rocks to see if it would stay on top, and also they threw small stones into some holes in the wall. I was also asked to have my picture takes with some babies that some women were carrying. The man that I talked to earlier said that foreign visitors here were extremely rare and that Americans especially were very highly regarded by the Yazidi.

Jack was getting very impatient to leave because his girlfriend lived in a village 15 minutes away and he was already hassling me to leave 30 minutes after we reached Lalish. He was starting to get pretty aggressive about it when I stalled for 2 more hours and finally I said that we could go. Of course when we got there she was gone for some reason despite them both communicating on cell phones so we went back to Dohuk.

Muhammad helped me find a place with cold beer and we enjoyed them on a secluded park bench next to a canal. Its forbidden to drink in public but this riverside park area was littered with tons of bottles and when Muhammad was done with his he threw the can into the canal. I was tired of Muhammad's crap so I said goodbye and left to go type this stuff up. I took a break half way through this post and this was my dinner... a half chicken, some soup and salad, and a rather expensive bill of $5. Tomorrow morning Jack is going to drive me to Zakho so that I can cross back into Turkey.