Camping in Kurdistan: A Road Trip and some Perspectives, Iraqi-Kurdistan, July 9th, 2011

"Is easy to see the remarkable beauty of this country and forget all the atrocities that are still happening, I can get lost in the immensity of its mountains in the north, the Mesopotamian Marshes in the south, swim on its rivers; Furat and Dicle and enjoy the simplicity of its people....but then I hear its name: Iraq.... I recall I'm on this journey deep into the strugle.....still the magic prevails-in my heart and I smile" Johanna

In the beginning of July, I went on a road trip with two of my Iraqi friends. It was something we had been planning, but I had been postponing it because my injured foot. We started our adventure in Erbil, driving north into Duhok. We were going to camp somewhere, past the ancient city of Amedi, which sits beautifully on a hill, one hour past Duhok. I was really excited about the whole camping idea.

Our first challenge was in one of the literally thousand checkpoints that are all over the place in Kurdistan. I am not sure which; surely it was after we left Erbil. We showed our ID’s, and my two friends went out of the car. The Kurdish soldier asked to open the trunk, which my friend did, and all of a sudden, I saw the soldier checking my bag and taking out some of my medicines. Right, so maybe a Kurdish an Arab guy with an American girl could be suspicious. For sure we could be carrying some kind of bomb to disturb free and peaceful Kurdistan! After the guy slowly and meticulously looked through my medications -anti-inflammatory and thyroid medication- he was convinced that there was nothing wrong in our trunk.

He proceeded to ask me-in Arabic- where I worked. I said I worked in a human rights organization. Then he asked my Arab friend, who said he was my bodyguard!!!! But of course, his papers said otherwise. Luckily, the soldier did not inquire about that contradiction. They asked my Kurdish friend to come with them. I was surprised because I expected they would take my other friend, who was from Baghdad. After a while, when he came back, he said that they were looking for another guy with his name. Fortunately, everything was solved without major inconveniences.

We continued our road trip. Sunflower fields were covering both sides of the road. I asked my friend to stop to take some pictures. On an improvised tent, there were three young guys who were taking care of the fields. We were out for about 10-15 minutes, but it was hot as hell! When we were leaving, one of the guys called us back and gave us like 8 melons, which were also from the same field. That was nice of them, but we had enough melons for dinner and breakfast.

We made it into Duhok around noon, prayer time, but also lunch time. It was the first time that my Arab friend visited Duhok, despite he had been in Kurdistan for 6 years, always working and trying to survive. We stopped at a restaurant, and I was happy to get off the car and be in a cooler place. We went upstairs into the family section which obviously was full of families. As we ordered, in the midst of lunchtime chaos, I noticed a conversation between a waiter and a man; the man seemed to be asking for a prayer rug, something available everywhere, from restaurants to shops, anywhere there are people. The man got his rug and went to a corner to pray. It is one of those scenes that does not cease to amaze me, reminding me that Islam permeates all aspects of daily life. Is something very normal and I am used to it now, but is one of those things that could impress one who is not familiar with this culture.

We drove through a small dam, just on top of the city. It was a small, man-made dam, to collect water. It was in the middle of a beautiful landscape, and to me, it fitted perfectly as if meant to be there. We continued our journey, passing Amedi and into another city called Deralok. There were several Assyrian villages and a couple of churches on the way. My two friends that just met today, talked about politics, religion and about life in Iraq. I was sitting in the back, listening and smiling. These were two people that generally would not come together spontaneously. Arabs and Kurds are not naturally attracted to each other, due to historical reasons, mainly because of the genocide of the Kurds orchestrated by Saddam. Only when people think beyond history and realize that what happened was a result of people in power doing things that did not necessarily represent the will of all, only then they can start reaching to each other.

I was glad that they were talking and making jokes; I knew both of them had been through a lot. The Kurds had the genocide and the uprising of 1991 that made millions refugees flee to Iran and three wars, plus sanctions that had destroyed a country and its people: the Iran-Iraq war, the Gulf war and lately in 2003 which made millions of Arabs flee to the north. The [American] war in the south had brought many Arabs into Kurdistan, which is autonomous, but yet, still part of Iraq. Many Arabs had come to escape violence and many more in search of employment given that war destroyed their source of income. The reality is that there is a lot of discrimination towards Arabs and because they come not speaking Kurdish, they can only get odd jobs which offer no stability. These jobs pay very little despite the long working shifts and oftentimes have no days off [=exploitation??].

We passed another checkpoint where a soldier again asked for our ID’s. When he came to check mine, he asked me where I am from, and he was smiling and exclaiming that my name is Kurdish. My name also exists in Kurdish but it is spelled differently: Jwana≠ Johanna. He thought I am originally Kurdish. People often say that I have Kurdish features, and many times people talk to me in Kurdish only to realize that I have no clue of what they are saying. He returned our ID’s and exclaimed: “Welcome Mister Johanna!”

After a long day on the car, looking for the perfect spot for the camping, we finally arrived to a beautiful and quiet place by the river. It almost felt like we arrived to the end of the world, away from people, from the government, just nature and beauty in front of us. It almost felt like being in another planet. We mounted our tent, looked for some wood for fire, and grilled some chicken Iraqi-style-tomato juice and salt.

We sat and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the night, listening to the soothing sound of the river and overlooking the moon sometimes wanting to hide from us behind the clouds. Enjoying this little moment but knowing that tomorrow we would wake up to the same Iraq we just escaped a couple of hours ago!

Beautiful sunflower fields on our way to Duhok, Iraqi Kurdistan

Two weeks, lots of tea and too much to handle in Kurdistan, 122710--Ankawa-Erbil, Iraq

Today it has been two weeks since I have been in Iraq. The first couple of days, I just felt out of place, just I wanted to go back; no friends, missing family, nowhere to go after work, I couldn’t even feel the spirit of Christmas. I was so sad and I cried every single day for the first 5 days, I felt completely disconnected. I had so many illusions to be in Iraq, and was so excited to come here, the cradle of civilization, the land of Abraham, Babylon, the Sumerians, the Assyrians, Baghdad, the center of the Islamic world in the 12th century and I was finally here and nothing was clicking. I knew it was just a process, that it was going to be all right, that it was normal to be sad, (I never felt like that in Palestine), but I could not stop crying, I guess after 6 months, and another holiday away from home, everything was finally hitting me.

For the first time in 6 months, after sleeping on a tent, on the floor, on the kitchen, and not having a specific place to sleep, I have my own room, even when its temporary. Despite having my amazing kingdom, I was still sad; the feeling of being alone and far away from home, and the fact that I couldn’t do anything on my own made me very frustrated. I just went to work, was sad all day and went back to the house, sat on my bed to cry. Now, I realize how helpless it feels to be displaced, to depend on others to fulfill your most basic needs like eating, or just getting back home. I know how vulnerable one feels and even I can’t compare my situation, but MAYBE this is how refugees and internally displaced people (IDP’s) here in Iraq feel. The feeling of powerlessness not being able to be self-sufficient, having to depend on the government or on NGO’s to fulfill their needs for housing, food, water.

My co-workers were trying to make me feel at home, playing Spanish music and they even got me a Christmas tree and we mounted it and put some lights on it. That was so sweet. I have been drinking a lot of tea too, tea at all times and in EVERY place and with a lot of sugar, I guess that's why you see my face a little bit more round. At work, most of the people in the organization is Kurdish, but there are 2 girls that are Arab. One of my co-workers is one girl from Baghdad. She moved here 4 years ago, running away from the sectarian violence between Sunni-Shi’a that was at its peak around 2006-2007. She is a very lively and outspoken girl, she told me that her father cannot find a job because he cannot speak Kurdish and also he was from a different political ideology, but that he receives some money from Baghdad. The other girl that works with me is originally from Mosul, but she and her family lived in Syria, also because of the sectarian violence. She told me that her sister husband was kidnapped but was able to escape because he opened the trunk where they put him. He just took a taxi to the Syrian border and waited there for his documents to be able to enter into Syria. I met another guy that was also from Baghdad that told me that they lived here because his father was kidnapped and that they were lucky that he is alive, after they paid $150,000. “We are lucky that my family has money” he said.

There is a cool mixture of Arabic-Kurdish language, you have to pay close attention, because in a second they change from one to the other. I can't figure the Iraqi-Arabic and it feels as if I don't know any Arabic at all. Some of the Kurds speak Arabic and vice versa, it’s a very interesting mixture, but not everyone speaks both languages. Also there have been some historical clashes between the Arabs and Kurds, so its not like they are so close, but now with the war, there is a lot of internal migration to the north, because is a more stable area, an area that has not been touch by the war, and now is blossoming with development and outside investment. There is around 1 million Arabs and 4 million Kurdish in the Iraqi-Kurdistan, curiously, the same ratio of Palestinians to Israelis living inside Israel.

I’ve been reading a lot of UN reports about the situation in Iraq. There are about 1.5 million people that have been internally displaced and around 1.5-2 million widows. About 10% of households in Iraq are headed by female. 1 in 5 children are illiterate. There are a lot of issues of violence against women, including honor killings, trafficking and female genital mutilation, a practice that is prevalent in 74% according to a Human Rights Watch report that I read. This is a country that has been suffering the devastating effects of war and UN sanctions for the past three decades. The Iran-Iraq war, the Gulf War followed by sanctions against that Saddam Hussein regime, then the US-led invasion, and as I read all these reports and the number of people, especially women and children that are the most vulnerable, I just ask myself WHY?????? Why our money has gone to support all these years of suffering, occupation, violence. Well, I know WHY!!! It is because of the greed of a few that want to control the energy resources of this part of the world. Because of that Iraqis are displaced, they cannot travel freely to other countries; they cannot visit other parts of the world, because their country s blacklisted, and they are seen as possible terrorists. I CAN, because I have the blessing of being born American with all the benefits and opportunities that the Empire brings. An Iraqi has the damnation of being born in a country of terror and war, and therefore s/he carries the mark wherever s/he goes.

My organization, the Women Empowerment Organization, has a couple of projects including awareness and empowerment of women and youth, we run a small business development center, to train young people to start their own businesses. We just have finish setting up a radio station and we have a hotline to serve women victims of violence, we are also planning literacy courses to target the widow women and to engage them in income generating projects to make them self sufficient and economically empowered. So here I start a new year with a new learning experience, lots of projects for the future and lots of hope for the people of Iraq.

Turkey: Where East Meets West...on Christmas!!!! 121510--Istanbul, Turkey

For the past two weeks, I've been stationed in Istanbul. It's cold and gray. It snowed and has been raining on and of for the past week. I saw my first Christmas tree and lights last week in Bakirkoy. There was a little house with a Santa and a Christmas tree. As my curiosity grew, I came close to the house to look inside there was a chair and a bench with lights and the message of Mutlu Yillar or Happy New Year all this to the background sound of jingle bells. Eventhough it was not a typical aguinaldo (puertorican Christmas carols) I was nostalgic and my eyes watered.

Mutlu Yillar or Happy New Year!


My first snow of this winter



While here in Istanbul, I learned that a friend of mine, that I didn't see for the past four years was here. A Mongolian girl that I hosted in PR. She was studying this semester here. It's amazing!!!East and West meeting in the Middle (East). After catching up about the past four years, we decided to meet again before both of us left Istanbul. Such a great city, great history and a lot to discover!

East meets the West....in the Middle


It's been great to be here, to have a sense of being with family, sitting together for dinner, going to buy groceries on the market with my Kurdish mom, being taken home by Turkish police, going to a Turkish house to see one of my 4 Kurdish brothers performing and just hanging out with my little Kurdish brother. The Turkish house is a restaurant and they play folk Turkish music. So, I got to do a lot of non-touristic things. I am also eating a lot of delicious Kurdish food.

Me playing with my little Kurdish brother Jiyan!


On the Thursday Bazaar buying some food!



The other night, we had family visiting us, so that means more food than usual The fact that I cannot speak Kurdish or Turkish does not affect or diminish the spirit and hospitality of my host family, it just help me learn some Turkish. I was speaking Arabic with one of the man and sign language with Jerran, one of the little cousins, she did everything possible to let me understand what they were trying to say. Also the fact that Turkish language has a lot of Arabic influence, helps...

Eating great Kurdish Food!


The most powerful thing was when I called my mom using skype! My mom in Puerto Rico in front of the computer talking with my Kurdish host mom, in Istanbul, one in English and the other one in Kurdish.....It was as if they both knew exactly what each other meant. Its just amazing how human beings can connect beyond words.

My sweet Kurdish mom....


Two days ago, I was taken home by three Turkish police officers after my inability to speak Turkish and theirs to speak English. I was just one street away from home, but I just wanted to know in which direction, because it was cold and was going to rain. I thought it was just a matter of confirming, but it was not like that. I guess it was easier to take me home than to explain to me how to get there.

Two of my Kurdish brothers



I've almost mastered the public transportation despite it can be complicated and there is no walking distance metro station here!. There are many different ways to get from point A to point B, subway, metrobus, minibus..except the police incident, I have managed to come back home safe and on time.

Getting back home.......


The reason I had to stay for almost two weeks here is that it has been hard to find a not-so-expensive in Iraq. Since the Baghdad bombing of the Christian church on October 31st, many christian families have been forced to look refuge in the Iraqi Kurdistan, due to threats of being killed. They have come mostly to Erbil, the capital of Kurdistan and where there is a big Christian community called Ankawa, where the organization where I am working now is located. The house prices have escalated to between 500-1000 dollars. I will stay temporarily in the director's house so I will spend Christmas in Iraq along hundreds of internally displaced Iraqi families. I will spend my second Christmas away from home, the second Christmas in the Middle East, my second Christmas in an Occupied Land and my second Christmas without family and friends. Today, at the internet cafe, my family gave me a traditional "Parranda Puertorriquena" , both them and me in tears and sad that we are not going to be together, but firm and knowing that they are supporting me as I go, just continuing my journey deep into the struggle.