My trip to Saddam’s Palace.

In Muslim countries Fridays are holy days. For this reason my sister Lori, who works at the local university, has Friday off every week. Our office is Open Sunday through Thursday during the day. So we try to do something together on Fridays. Up until now that meant sitting around the house talking to each other, walking through the market or up to the dam, or getting together with friends. We never really went anywhere because we did not have our own vehicle. 

This past week we decided to take care of that problem and we decided to buy a vehicle. We were not sure what type we wanted to buy. We had to weight affordability with gas consumption and usability in our local terrain and for what we do. After long deliberation and heated debate we decided to get a Nissan Patrol. For those of you who do not know what a Nissan Patrol is, think of a cross between a Toyota Land Cruiser and a Land Rover Discovery but then think much more affordable. These vehicles are every where around here.

Now that we were armed with our Patrol and Friday was upon us we decided to take a trip around the countryside. Lori had been complaining that she had not really seen anything since she was here. We had gone to other countries and had driven around Kurdistan but she had never really left Dohuk. I felt her sorrow so I am now making a point to take her with us whenever we can.

This Friday our path pointed to the North East. We left Dohuk and drove pass the dam winding around tight roads with sheer cliffs on one side and breathtaking rises on the other. As James wove our Patrol through the maze of roads, flowers, rocks, cliffs, small mud brick villages, and flocks of sheep I felt that I was back in the land of the bible. For the most part technology has not touched the small villages. They live today almost as they lived 2000 years ago. 

Winding along our path we made our way to Zawita. This is a small town located in-between two mountains. On the upper side you have a military training base and a small city. The main road from Dohuk to Ramadi and Sasink cuts through lower Zawita in a gully. The sides of the road are lined with stores and restaurants. Each place is built into the mountain with terraced platforms dug in above them. The platforms are planted with grass and tables and chairs are placed there. Vines are interwoven in strategically placed poles to allow for a shade covering during most of the day. Due to the location the sun only beats down on lower Zawita during the middle of the day. This leaves Zawita cool all day long. It is a great place to escape the constant bombardment of the sun.

Traveling past Zawita you see the evidence of the major road project in Kurdistan. There is an American consulting company here so you can see they are leveling the road and adding aggregate to ensure the road is strengthened. This may be one of the only roads in Kurdistan that is being built this way. I am sure more will follow. The roads here are not as windy as they were before Zawita. This area has rolling hills with villages dotting the landscape. Everywhere you go you can see the distinct pale blue buildings that are evidence of UNISEF building another village, pump house, school, Sheppard shack, or basic houses. The houses around it are not painted at all, so the owners of the UNISEF homes never find a reason to change the color. It is easy to see how much the world is helping here when you just drive around the countryside. 
One of the good things about traveling North of Dohuk is that you do not have to stop all the time for military or police checkpoints. For the most part there are no terrorists up here. The only real concern is for the PKK and they are smart enough not to attack people inside of Northern Iraq. This is a type of safe haven for them, as long as they do not hurt anyone here. Some times the Turkish army will travel into this are to follow some PKK troops and hunt them down, but for the most part this area has remained peaceful since 2003. 

We continued on this road until we came to the city of Sarsink. Sarsink is located in a valley in which Saddam Hussein harassed the Kurdish people constantly. Many of the Peshmerga forces that fought with Saddam were from this area. It was known as a breeding ground for fighters. For this reason Saddam built a palace at the top of a Mountain overlooking the valley and constantly sent planes in to bomb any buildings he saw, and sent helicopters to hunt for and kill anyone that was seen walking in the valley. For this reason Sarsink never really grew, but also for this reason they bred some of the toughest and most belligerent Peshmerga for fighting Saddam. We drove through Sarsink and started up the mountain to Saddam’s Palace. This area had become a popular tourist place. Families would go up into the mountain to picnic. On our way up we realized how dangerous of an idea this was as we saw minefield signs all along the side of the road. We saw places that were clearly marked as mine fields as we saw children playing in them with the parents not far behind. James and I shook our heads in disbelief and continued up the mountain.

The road going up the mountain is a two land road but you would not want to test that theory with two trucks. The road serpentines its way up the mountain with the outer edge of the road being help in place by retaining walls. The retaining walls are built from cement and then square cut blocks of stone are pressed into the cement to make a uniform pattern. Due to theft of disrepair many of the stones are missing from their settings to the walls now look pockmarked and worn. As you near the top the road rides on the ridge of some of the mountains allowing you to look down for thousands of feet on both sides of the road. The last little bit of the journey is almost straight up and the trucks straight 6 engine was starving for oxygen in the light air and snarguled the last half a kilometer. 

Once we got to the guard-shack before the palace we pulled up and talked to the guard. Once he saw we were Americans he pulled the cross beam up and let us drive up to the Palace. When we arrived we realized that this was not common fare as we had the only car up there. It is amazing the things they let us Americans do that they will not let others do. We even got to walk around on the restricted levels and the guards smiled and waved at us. When locals tried to go up there the guard’s smiles vanished and they spoke harshly to them until the locals went back down the stairs. I felt bad for this so we went down as well.

After the first gulf war the people of Sarsink went to the palace and stripped it of much of its wealth. The PKK then took the palace and kept it as a command center and shelter. During a raid the Turkish military followed the PKK to the village and called in an air assault from helicopters and fast movers. The palace was bombed and riddles with .50 cal machine-gun fire. The surviving PKK soldiers tried to escape by jumping off the cliff and the back side of the palace and most of them fell to their death. This fight is very evident in the Palace now. Brick was used to make the inner wall of the palace and stucco was spread over the outside. This brick provides for great insulation but makes a deadly combination when the place us under attack. You see brick breaks off in shards. When the bombs hit the walls they released a spray of deadly brick shards into the air slicing through anything or anyone in their path. You can still see some of the shard embedded in the walls opposite of the blast marks. 

We left the palace and started to drive down the mountain. We stopped at one point overlooking a ravine and had some juice and chips. It was not a proper picnic but we had not purchased the items that are required to do so yet. We know the items we need to buy and we will take care of that this week so the next Friday we want to go out for a picnic we can, and will. 

The trip back was along the same route we took getting there. As James likes to drive we left him in charge of that, and I let my sister sit in the front seat the entire time as this gave her a better change to see what was going on around her. I had no problem in the backseat as the windows in a Patrol are very large and I could clearly see what was going on around me. I think some combination of pure air, physical exercise, the gentle jostle of the road, and it just being the weekend worked its magic on me and I was soon drifting off to sleep in the back seat. I woke up as we were coming into Dohuk. We drove through the market as our interpreter was with us, and we were going to drop him off at home. Our interpreters name is Sharzad Mosa but we call him Alex. He worked for the US Military in Mosul for about four months but now he is living in Dohuk with his parents. This kid is awesome and we use him a lot. Sharzad is a great help and we could not do most of the things we do here if it was not for him.

Getting back home we all were a little tired so we just sat around the office drinking water and talking. All in all it was a great little day. Lori was very thankful she go to see a little more of Kurdistan. I wonder where we are going to go next?

Trip to the Christian Villages

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.

Wacky Wonderful Roller-Coaster of a Ride (My trip around Kurdistan)

Most of my time here in Iraq is spent sitting at my desk in my office at our apartment in Dohuk, but sometimes we have to go around and see all of the people that we work with. I do not spend a lot of time talking about work, but just know that we work with a lot of different people. So we decided to spend three days driving around the country. I took my good friend James with me. It was an interesting trip.

James and I have traveled around Kurdistan a few times and since I have been here we have used cars to travel. As I am a large man and all cars are built for small people I do not always find traveling comfortable. Walking around Dohuk James and I have seen a lot of large SUV’s that take people from Dohuk to Syria, Jordan, or Turkey. They are all owned by Assyrian Christians as they can cross borders much easier then Kurdish people can, but that is a different story. To add to our comfort level James and I decided to hire one of these SUV’s to take us around Kurdistan. The standard fee is $250 per day for the vehicle. We negotiated with a guy to allow us to take one for $150 per day and we paid for hotel fees, food, and gas.

Our driver picked us up at 8 o’clock in the morning. As usual we had to wait for out interpreter. He is not really that punctual, and he is not a fan of getting up early in the morning. Once everyone was gathered together we got into the SUV and headed out of town. Our driver quickly drove us outside of the inner city and drove us into a village on the outskirts of town. I was a little curious what was going on because I know my way around the city very well but I was going to places I had never seen before. After going down two dead-end streets I asked my interpreter where the driver was going. That is when I found out that my driver spoke Syriac and Arabic and my interpreter spoke English and Kurdish – with a smattering of Arabic. I could not believe my luck. I had asked for a driver who spoke Kurdish, my interpreter always told me he did speak Arabic. So here I was already with two liars in the car and a driver who did not know his way around. It ended up that the entire trip James and I told the driver where to go. That is right the two people who did not grow up in this country and did not make their living by driving around knew where to go much better then the two who did. Amazing how that worked out.

After our fiasco with the driver not knowing how to get out of the city, including finally getting to the high-way and trying to drive the wrong direction on it – we left town. The first city on our list was Erbil, and as that is a pretty straight road that we had taken many times James and I decided to catch a few zzzzz’s on the way there. James climbed into the back seat and I stayed in the middle. Even though out driver passed every vehicle known to man and seemed to find every bump in the road I did sleep most of the way. The only thing that really bothered me is deciding whether my pillow should be on the ceiling of the car of the seat…I was not sure where I spent the majority of my time.

Making our way into Erbil we sent to the Erbil International Hotel to visit our bank to get some money for out trip. We have the same bank in Dohuk, but they are only open when they fell like it. Once our banking was done we made our way to Koya.

Koya is a small little town located on the eastern side of Iraqi-Kurdistan. Traveling there we passed a lot of beautiful scenery. Erbil is located in a plain in-between two mountain ranges. Exiting Erbil we were surrounded by flat farmland that was turning green under the grateful eye of the flocks of sheep grazing up and down the flat landscape until is slowly gave to the undulating plains and then the rolling foot hills. Off in the distance you could see the majestic reign of the mountains with their white crown standing guard over the region. Soon we left the plains and entered into these mountains. Our driver weaved the serpentine path the roads take mimicking the most playful of streams until we began to climb into the welcoming folds of the mountains. 

Speckling the great rocks were small towns filled with history and life. There villagers were watching the sheep or tending to their fields. Their existence harmonizing with nature seeming at contrast with the great heartache that so often swept through this land. I will have to say that I envied those people. Many times I have dreamed about living a life like that. 

Arriving in Koya we saw a city that was long and narrow. Built around their main road the city never moved out, but instead followed the road up to the base of the mountain. There was evidence of construction everywhere. James and I then met with some of our working contacts and had lunch with them. After lunch we said our goodbyes and left for Sulemaniya.

Again we had a problem with James and I knowing more about where we were going then our driver did. It was good that by this time he knew to just listen to us. We left the city and traveled though the mountains towards Sully. We stopped a few times along the way to take pictures. Even though we told our driver to slow down and to not tailgate the people in front of him he must have thought we were in some major hurry because he even passed people while cresting hills – many times. I thought we were going to die more then once. There was this beautiful little mountain town near a dam and our driver got stopped at the check point entering the city. This was the first checkpoint that asked to see his driver’s license. This was when I found out that our driver had one, but it was expired. He then wanted us to pay the $200 fine that he got. I told him that this was his problem and one that I did not have any reason to pay for. So he paid the $120 fine and we were on our way. 

When we got to Sully we saw another city that was bristling with cranes and construction. I would even have to say that Sully has more construction going on then any other city in Kurdistan. We made our way to the Sulemaniya Palace Hotel and booked ourselves for the night. James and I spent most of that night on our computers answering emails – I know we are such rabble rousers.

That next morning James and I met with more business contacts and finished by noon. We then checked out of our hotel where I learned that our driver spent over 78,000 NID (around $60) in room service and mini-bar fees. I could not believe it…. I paid it and then quickly made a point to tell my driver an interpreter that the food in the room ------ not free! As this was the first time for my interpreter in a hotel I was not that angry.

Leaving Sully we went back to Koya but this time by a different route. I would have to say that I liked this route much better. I took many pictures and you can see them in my album. It was beautiful. I think that a combination of being so enraptured by what I was seeing and battle fatigue led to me not really mind our chauffeur’s driving-style. Especially when we drove this switchback trail up the side of the mountain that would crest us to overlook Koya - - - I was speechless. The beauty of the surrounding mountains left me gasping for breath. We stopped the SUV at the crest of the hill and looked east into Iran where the blue mountains rose from a lake bed to touch the sky. The tips of their peaks were covered with snows white blankets of cleansing. The plains below seemed to run right into the sides of the monstrous peaks giving birth to a vertical climb that mocked the greatest achievements of man. Down near the base of the mountain you could see many small villages and one large village adding character and life to something that could be painted on. My camera tried to capture even one slice of this beauty but it was a loosing battle. Not even the greatest painter with the largest of canvases could capture the panoramic view that was there. 

Turning around the view was vastly different but no less awe-inspiring. On the other side of the pass lay the town of Koya. From here you could look at the city life scurrying about on the business of being busy. The town gave way to flat plains and rolling hills that showed evidence of the great city that had once been. As far as the eye could see the ground was scored with what was once buildings, farms, houses, lives, and death now silenced by a dictator that squeezed a people until someone finally squeezed back. Because of this – Americans are loved in Koya. You see Koya was the next city on Saddam list. He had plans to force the population of Koya to leave or he would kill them all. It was his plan to then level the town, dig up all the graves, poison the ground, and place land-mines in the mountains. When the US came in 1991 he was stopped. This is part of history that seldom gets told. 

Going down the mountain we met again with some of our friends in Koya and then continued on to Erbil. We had a lot of meetings there during the day. We did a lot of work and were very happy to find our beds in the Dim Dim Hotel that night. This time out driver wanted to stay in his truck and our interpreter stayed in the room with us. That cut costs a little bit – but I am not sure if it cut frustration, but that is a story better left untold.

The next day James and I met with more contacts and friends. We then went to the Erbil International Hotel where we ate lunch and talked with someone who might come and work for us soon. After our meal we made our way back to Dohuk. The interesting part is, that I was starting to get used to our drivers erratic and dangerous way of driving. I think I would have been completely OK with it if he did not insist on smoking at least three packs of cigarettes on our trip. I was afraid I would never get that smell out of my clothes. 

We got back to Dohuk in one piece. Our driver was under the impression that we were going to be gone for four days instead of three and wanted me to pay him for the fourth day as well. By this time I was tired, cranky, smoke logged, jostled, hustled, and lied to too many time. I think that was either evident in my voice, mannerism, body language or some combination of the three because he quickly said to forget it and that he was thankful for what he got. All in all if was a very informative trip. I now know that I am going to learn Kurdish and try to buy my own vehicle….that way I never have to use a driver again.