This weekend I was given a nice treat, I was taken up to the Turkish border to visit some Assyrian villages. In case some of you do not know, the Assyrians were one of the groups who controlled this region in history. There are still some of their people living in the land. During the reign of Saddam Hussein most of them fled the mountains and lived in Iraq’s cities or left Iraq all-together.
My journey started at 11:30 am when my good friend Omar called. Omar is a smaller Arab man who recently converted to Christianity. My phone rang and I debated whether I was going to answer it or not. I decided that I should at least see who it was and when I saw it was Omar I answered.
Are you ready to go, rang through the phone as I answered.
Ready for what?
To go to the village.
Is it Thursday already?
Yeah, will you be ready to go at 1?
Sure – and then I hung up the phone. To be honest with you, I had forgotten that we were going. I did not completely forget. I had even talked about the trip we would be taking; I had just forgotten how quickly the weekend comes over here.
So I put down the phone and went into my room to tell James to get out of bed and get ready to go to the village. He growled an answer at me but at least rolled over to show me he was alive. I figured I would go and get some other things ready before prodding James with a stick to get him out of bed.
After taking a shower and packing all of my stuff I saw that James has unfurled himself from his cave of blankets and plodded into the shower. Like a smart man I stayed out of his way until he spoke his first words of the day.
Even with all of that drama we were ready for our trip by 12:30. Of course our ride would not be there for another hour. We are used to people being late here. We stepped outside of the door with our overnight bags and blankets into the drizzling overcast day that welcomed us like a punch in the face. We took the hit and gathered ourselves together and jumped into the awaiting jeep for our trip into the mountains.
James and I rode with Antonio and Rebecca. They are a nice Christian couple living in Dohuk like us. Antonio is a Brazilian who stereotypically loves soccer but not so stereotypically is married to an American Woman!!!!!!!!!! Rebecca, said American Woman, she is from California and her parents raised her in the Orient…. Can you say scary combo – I can, and did – several times on the trip……
The trip to the village was not only made exciting by the United Nations in the front seats, but also by the winding, not-well-paved roads that had massive holes existing in the middle of nowhere. I was very glad we had a local leading the way.
Moving farther on during our trip we came across something that was very interesting to me. I first must tell you that during our trip we never left Iraq. We also never left Kurdish territory. So why then did I pass two Turkish military outposts complete with tanks, armored personnel carriers, helicopters, and gun nests? I was so amazed by this that I took pictures. Interesting how the Turkish military actually exists inside of Iraq.
Winding our way through the mountains we finely made our way to the Assyrian Christian village. This was the village of our guide in the lead vehicle Maureen. Maureen is an Assyrian Christian that works with Omar. Maureen is about 5’4” tall and has shoulder length brown hair. She is very proud of being Assyrian and Christian.
The village that we went to had all been built in the last two years. Forty years ago the last villager left and they only started returning a couple years ago. The UN gave money to the Kurdish Government to build these villages for the Assyrians that were forced to leave because of the fighting. As of right now, Maureen’s village has 12 houses with around 35 people living there. All of the villages in the surrounding mountains equals about 100 people.
When I stepped out of the jeep I was really awe-struck. You can only see so much from inside a vehicle. When I got out I could see large Mountains stretching towards the sky on all sides of me. Looking north from the village there was a sheer rock face that fell sharply down into a rushing river. This river snakes its way through gravely shores pulling itself from the snow pooling at the tops of the north facing slopes and runs its way into Southern Iraq. These mountains gave birth to the essence of life and blessed it upon anyone who could walk up and dip their hand.
The air was crisp and we could see our breath. We seemed to hover just below some imaginary temperature line because as it rained on us we could see the snow falling just a few hundred meters away. Gazing up into the sky you could see the snow falling, but only rain seemed to hit us. Not to escape but to explore more we went inside.
The village's homes are made almost solely made of concrete. Each house is built in a rectangle with a square central room acting as the focal point with a square kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms finding their ways off to the side. Nothing is placed on the walls and everything has a temporary feel to it. Even the furniture is the plastic type we would place on our outdoor porch. A large rug covers the main room’s floor and similar rugs can be found in both bedrooms. The kitchen has a small sink area and a camp stove serves as the cooking device. The bathroom has the standard eastern toilet with a small sink crammed into the corner. The bathroom itself is large as it acts as a laundry room and shower too.
We stayed inside until we saw the weather starting to break. James and I decided to stray from the home and walk around the land. We were escorted around by the village’s elders and shown the grounds where the old village had been. They showed us a police station, church, and some ruins of houses. They had fallen down years ago and became overrun by weeds and years of uncare. We walked down to where the Kurdish government had built a cistern and pump-house for a spring that found its way from the rocks just below the village. The water was pumped from this cistern to a top cistern that provided the village with its drinking water. In true form this pumps was not working and there was a secondary pump used to transfer the water.
After a short while the weather started to break but night was setting in. We walked to the edge of the village to gaze at the mountains as the sun gave up its fight with the clouds and settled in the west. As darkness began to take its watch of the night, lights began to turn on at the top of a mountain. I pointed these out to the elders and one of them explained to me that this was a Turkish border checkpoint. They kept watch over this valley to look for the PKK. I was assured that as long as we stayed in Assyrian valleys the Turkish military would not bother us. Even the PKK new to stay away from the Christians. We stayed for a few moments more until we were called inside the house.
Entering back into the cozy little village home, we were greeted with smells that made us remember it had been a long time since we last ate. I sat down at one of the bench seats and put my legs close to the spot heater. Quickly the water on my pants mixed with the heat from the fire to raise steam. It hurt a little but also felt good. I could not explain it – it just was. Sitting like this combined with high mountain air started to wave its spell on me and soon I was napping. Twice I woke up to see villagers had come into the home and were sitting there looking at me. I did not mind and just nodded back off to sleep.
When they brought supper into the main room the smells awakened the growling in my stomach which forced me to abandon my reverie. So I shook off the sandman’s grasp and bellied up to tuck in. The food was great. Maureen had slaved in that kitchen since we had arrived to make us red rice with tomato sauce, macaroni noodles with a curry and paprika flavoring, beef ribs cooked in a vegetable vinegar sauce, pan friend chicken legs, a squash curry dish that tasted very good when mixed with the rice, and a baked bean dish that James seemed to like more then anything else on the table.
As Omar had to go back to Dohuk when I was sleeping Maureen, Rebecca, James, Antonio, and I ate our supper with Maureen’s grandfather and father. When we were done they took the meal into the kitchen and allowed the kids to eat along with the other women. This is a normal cultural act that I still have not gotten used to. I except it, but that does not mean I am comfortable with it.
After this we all were tired so we decided it was time to go to bed. James, Antonio, Rebecca, and I all slept in the same room. There were three beds so everything worked out fine. As we were all tired there were only a few “good night John Boy” jokes and we all went to sleep.
The next morning we all wanted to stay in bed as that is where the warmth was. We knew that as soon as we threw back our blankets that an artic blast would do its best to find the inner most part of our bones. For that we all were awake for a good hour before anyone got up. Antonio’s bladder proved to be the weakest and he was the first to brave the chilling embrace but he was followed by our reluctantness shortly after.
That morning, as we stomped warmth into our feet and boots, James and I walked outside into the sun. That morning we were met by Maureen’s little brother and one of the neighboring villages’ elder. He took us down to the river. It was amazing how much we actually could converse with neither of them speaking English and neither of us speaking Assyrian or Eastern Arabic. We made our way through the fields and down the slopes until we found ourselves at the edge of the river.
The river itself roared on past mountains upon mountains of gravel. There was evidence of a massive undertaking to remove the gravel from the rivers edge. Huge holes were dug to pull the gravel out. Screens were strewn around and left to lie where they had broken while separating the various sized gravel. Stored piles of varying heights and varying grades of gravel were systematically placed, waiting for the next truck to come and take it away to be used on a road or made into cement block to build the next village.
The four of us walked around looking at whatever interested us. Some skipped stones while others went to the next hill to see what laid beyond. After an hour or so of exploring we started back up toward the village. We hopped a few cricks and climbed a few washes. We picked our way through briar patches and stretched forth to grasp at tentative handhold where the grade got too steep. When we reached the top, our breath racking our lungs for acceptance, we had a sense of accomplishing something. Looking around we all had a sparkle in our eye and rosiness in our cheeks. Sometimes it is good to just get out.
When we got back up to the village everyone was out. The sun had peaked its head and everyone wanted to catch some of it. As we sat down I was passed a little baby. The little guy must have taken to me because very soon he was sleeping as if he did not have a care in the world. I guess for a baby when you are passed into the arms of a 300LB man it might be more comforting then it is to others.
After the little guy’s nap on big Uncle Bert the village king came by. I had met him before and he seemed happy to see me. He asked if I would like to go down to the river for lunch. As we had just been there I was all for it. This time we wanted to drive down there, just to see where the road was. We figured we would walk back up to the village. So we jumped into the kings SUV and went down to the river. The drive was a lot longer then we thought and quickly discovered that waking is actually shorter then taking the car.
Our time at the river was great. All of the villagers came down from three villages. We grilled lamb and tomatoes and ate until my eyes hurt. We played soccer and they showed us some Assyrian dancing. I thought the dancing looked more like people holding hands and jumping a little bit but who am I to judge a culture. James and I then went exploring in the mountains. We wondered if there were landmines so we asked. They all assured us there were not, and we figured it would be better if we never really knew…because knowing would come as a real blast……
Walking into the surrounding area was absolutely beautiful. We walked over hills and up rock piles. We traversed through groves and picked our way through underbrush. At one point I followed a dried up creek bed up into the hills and then followed its sister down the mountain. All in all I would say I had a lot of fun.
We walked back to the fire and realized that it was getting late and we still needed to drive the three and a half hours back to Dohuk so we started to pack up and say our goodbyes. Before we left we gathered everyone together for a picture and then James and I started our last hike of the day back up the mountain from the creek. We beat everyone to the village and I changed my socks while I was waiting for them. We then loaded up the jeep and started back for Dohuk. I am sure the way back was filled with adventure as well, but all I saw was the back of my eyelids as once again the day’s activities and the fresh mountain air combined to make the sandman’s job that much easier.
My journey started at 11:30 am when my good friend Omar called. Omar is a smaller Arab man who recently converted to Christianity. My phone rang and I debated whether I was going to answer it or not. I decided that I should at least see who it was and when I saw it was Omar I answered.
Are you ready to go, rang through the phone as I answered.
Ready for what?
To go to the village.
Is it Thursday already?
Yeah, will you be ready to go at 1?
Sure – and then I hung up the phone. To be honest with you, I had forgotten that we were going. I did not completely forget. I had even talked about the trip we would be taking; I had just forgotten how quickly the weekend comes over here.
So I put down the phone and went into my room to tell James to get out of bed and get ready to go to the village. He growled an answer at me but at least rolled over to show me he was alive. I figured I would go and get some other things ready before prodding James with a stick to get him out of bed.
After taking a shower and packing all of my stuff I saw that James has unfurled himself from his cave of blankets and plodded into the shower. Like a smart man I stayed out of his way until he spoke his first words of the day.
Even with all of that drama we were ready for our trip by 12:30. Of course our ride would not be there for another hour. We are used to people being late here. We stepped outside of the door with our overnight bags and blankets into the drizzling overcast day that welcomed us like a punch in the face. We took the hit and gathered ourselves together and jumped into the awaiting jeep for our trip into the mountains.
James and I rode with Antonio and Rebecca. They are a nice Christian couple living in Dohuk like us. Antonio is a Brazilian who stereotypically loves soccer but not so stereotypically is married to an American Woman!!!!!!!!!! Rebecca, said American Woman, she is from California and her parents raised her in the Orient…. Can you say scary combo – I can, and did – several times on the trip……
The trip to the village was not only made exciting by the United Nations in the front seats, but also by the winding, not-well-paved roads that had massive holes existing in the middle of nowhere. I was very glad we had a local leading the way.
Moving farther on during our trip we came across something that was very interesting to me. I first must tell you that during our trip we never left Iraq. We also never left Kurdish territory. So why then did I pass two Turkish military outposts complete with tanks, armored personnel carriers, helicopters, and gun nests? I was so amazed by this that I took pictures. Interesting how the Turkish military actually exists inside of Iraq.
Winding our way through the mountains we finely made our way to the Assyrian Christian village. This was the village of our guide in the lead vehicle Maureen. Maureen is an Assyrian Christian that works with Omar. Maureen is about 5’4” tall and has shoulder length brown hair. She is very proud of being Assyrian and Christian.
The village that we went to had all been built in the last two years. Forty years ago the last villager left and they only started returning a couple years ago. The UN gave money to the Kurdish Government to build these villages for the Assyrians that were forced to leave because of the fighting. As of right now, Maureen’s village has 12 houses with around 35 people living there. All of the villages in the surrounding mountains equals about 100 people.
When I stepped out of the jeep I was really awe-struck. You can only see so much from inside a vehicle. When I got out I could see large Mountains stretching towards the sky on all sides of me. Looking north from the village there was a sheer rock face that fell sharply down into a rushing river. This river snakes its way through gravely shores pulling itself from the snow pooling at the tops of the north facing slopes and runs its way into Southern Iraq. These mountains gave birth to the essence of life and blessed it upon anyone who could walk up and dip their hand.
The air was crisp and we could see our breath. We seemed to hover just below some imaginary temperature line because as it rained on us we could see the snow falling just a few hundred meters away. Gazing up into the sky you could see the snow falling, but only rain seemed to hit us. Not to escape but to explore more we went inside.
The village's homes are made almost solely made of concrete. Each house is built in a rectangle with a square central room acting as the focal point with a square kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms finding their ways off to the side. Nothing is placed on the walls and everything has a temporary feel to it. Even the furniture is the plastic type we would place on our outdoor porch. A large rug covers the main room’s floor and similar rugs can be found in both bedrooms. The kitchen has a small sink area and a camp stove serves as the cooking device. The bathroom has the standard eastern toilet with a small sink crammed into the corner. The bathroom itself is large as it acts as a laundry room and shower too.
We stayed inside until we saw the weather starting to break. James and I decided to stray from the home and walk around the land. We were escorted around by the village’s elders and shown the grounds where the old village had been. They showed us a police station, church, and some ruins of houses. They had fallen down years ago and became overrun by weeds and years of uncare. We walked down to where the Kurdish government had built a cistern and pump-house for a spring that found its way from the rocks just below the village. The water was pumped from this cistern to a top cistern that provided the village with its drinking water. In true form this pumps was not working and there was a secondary pump used to transfer the water.
After a short while the weather started to break but night was setting in. We walked to the edge of the village to gaze at the mountains as the sun gave up its fight with the clouds and settled in the west. As darkness began to take its watch of the night, lights began to turn on at the top of a mountain. I pointed these out to the elders and one of them explained to me that this was a Turkish border checkpoint. They kept watch over this valley to look for the PKK. I was assured that as long as we stayed in Assyrian valleys the Turkish military would not bother us. Even the PKK new to stay away from the Christians. We stayed for a few moments more until we were called inside the house.
Entering back into the cozy little village home, we were greeted with smells that made us remember it had been a long time since we last ate. I sat down at one of the bench seats and put my legs close to the spot heater. Quickly the water on my pants mixed with the heat from the fire to raise steam. It hurt a little but also felt good. I could not explain it – it just was. Sitting like this combined with high mountain air started to wave its spell on me and soon I was napping. Twice I woke up to see villagers had come into the home and were sitting there looking at me. I did not mind and just nodded back off to sleep.
When they brought supper into the main room the smells awakened the growling in my stomach which forced me to abandon my reverie. So I shook off the sandman’s grasp and bellied up to tuck in. The food was great. Maureen had slaved in that kitchen since we had arrived to make us red rice with tomato sauce, macaroni noodles with a curry and paprika flavoring, beef ribs cooked in a vegetable vinegar sauce, pan friend chicken legs, a squash curry dish that tasted very good when mixed with the rice, and a baked bean dish that James seemed to like more then anything else on the table.
As Omar had to go back to Dohuk when I was sleeping Maureen, Rebecca, James, Antonio, and I ate our supper with Maureen’s grandfather and father. When we were done they took the meal into the kitchen and allowed the kids to eat along with the other women. This is a normal cultural act that I still have not gotten used to. I except it, but that does not mean I am comfortable with it.
After this we all were tired so we decided it was time to go to bed. James, Antonio, Rebecca, and I all slept in the same room. There were three beds so everything worked out fine. As we were all tired there were only a few “good night John Boy” jokes and we all went to sleep.
The next morning we all wanted to stay in bed as that is where the warmth was. We knew that as soon as we threw back our blankets that an artic blast would do its best to find the inner most part of our bones. For that we all were awake for a good hour before anyone got up. Antonio’s bladder proved to be the weakest and he was the first to brave the chilling embrace but he was followed by our reluctantness shortly after.
That morning, as we stomped warmth into our feet and boots, James and I walked outside into the sun. That morning we were met by Maureen’s little brother and one of the neighboring villages’ elder. He took us down to the river. It was amazing how much we actually could converse with neither of them speaking English and neither of us speaking Assyrian or Eastern Arabic. We made our way through the fields and down the slopes until we found ourselves at the edge of the river.
The river itself roared on past mountains upon mountains of gravel. There was evidence of a massive undertaking to remove the gravel from the rivers edge. Huge holes were dug to pull the gravel out. Screens were strewn around and left to lie where they had broken while separating the various sized gravel. Stored piles of varying heights and varying grades of gravel were systematically placed, waiting for the next truck to come and take it away to be used on a road or made into cement block to build the next village.
The four of us walked around looking at whatever interested us. Some skipped stones while others went to the next hill to see what laid beyond. After an hour or so of exploring we started back up toward the village. We hopped a few cricks and climbed a few washes. We picked our way through briar patches and stretched forth to grasp at tentative handhold where the grade got too steep. When we reached the top, our breath racking our lungs for acceptance, we had a sense of accomplishing something. Looking around we all had a sparkle in our eye and rosiness in our cheeks. Sometimes it is good to just get out.
When we got back up to the village everyone was out. The sun had peaked its head and everyone wanted to catch some of it. As we sat down I was passed a little baby. The little guy must have taken to me because very soon he was sleeping as if he did not have a care in the world. I guess for a baby when you are passed into the arms of a 300LB man it might be more comforting then it is to others.
After the little guy’s nap on big Uncle Bert the village king came by. I had met him before and he seemed happy to see me. He asked if I would like to go down to the river for lunch. As we had just been there I was all for it. This time we wanted to drive down there, just to see where the road was. We figured we would walk back up to the village. So we jumped into the kings SUV and went down to the river. The drive was a lot longer then we thought and quickly discovered that waking is actually shorter then taking the car.
Our time at the river was great. All of the villagers came down from three villages. We grilled lamb and tomatoes and ate until my eyes hurt. We played soccer and they showed us some Assyrian dancing. I thought the dancing looked more like people holding hands and jumping a little bit but who am I to judge a culture. James and I then went exploring in the mountains. We wondered if there were landmines so we asked. They all assured us there were not, and we figured it would be better if we never really knew…because knowing would come as a real blast……
Walking into the surrounding area was absolutely beautiful. We walked over hills and up rock piles. We traversed through groves and picked our way through underbrush. At one point I followed a dried up creek bed up into the hills and then followed its sister down the mountain. All in all I would say I had a lot of fun.
We walked back to the fire and realized that it was getting late and we still needed to drive the three and a half hours back to Dohuk so we started to pack up and say our goodbyes. Before we left we gathered everyone together for a picture and then James and I started our last hike of the day back up the mountain from the creek. We beat everyone to the village and I changed my socks while I was waiting for them. We then loaded up the jeep and started back for Dohuk. I am sure the way back was filled with adventure as well, but all I saw was the back of my eyelids as once again the day’s activities and the fresh mountain air combined to make the sandman’s job that much easier.
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