Simple little bookworm, buried underneath is the sexiest Librarian, take off those glasses and let down your hair for me
~"The Librarian", My Morning Jacket
~"The Librarian", My Morning Jacket
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Tuesday, 28 April 2009
Saturday, 18 April 2009
The Men of Sulaimani
Over the course of the 4 days I was in Iraq I took countless number of pictures. After the link are some of my favorite portraits of the men we met throughout the trip. Also pop over to Jack's blog to read an essay he recently posted, the link is above his picture on the next page after the "read more".
Tour Guide at the Red Museum which used to be a prison when Suli was under Saddam's reign. One of the most powerful places in Suli to visit as it not only puts into perspective the atrocities of the Bath Party but gives you a deeper understanding of the will and tenacity of the Kurdish people to overcome.
Traditional Kurdish attire. As we passed this man I commented on how nice his shoes were. My brother got me a pair for Christmas so it was cool to see this man dressed in his Friday's best after Mosque. In typical Kurdish fashion he also asked if he could give them to me as a gift.
Guys in the kitchen of the best kebab shop in Suli
The best driver in Suli.
Not a local but he's been there long enough that I thought I could sneak him in.
Make sure to read the story that Polla aka Jack has posted over at his blog Polla Kamal in Iraq It's an amazing story of the realities of the area. This photo was taken shortly after a lake swim north of Suli. It was also Jack's first time swimming and an amazing experience to share with friends
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Wednesday, 15 April 2009
Friday, 3 April 2009
Sulaimani, Iraq Day 2
Recently I read another American's take on his time in Suli. I have to say his portrait of the town and people seemed a little cold, as if he only saw the city through the windows of his SUV and not actually from the streets.
The Sulaimani I saw that morning was quite different. I think your perspective changes when you get out and interact with the people and actually become part of the landscape instead of seeing it from 45mph behind a pane of glass. Hopefully my account of the morning shows a broader perspective of what it's like to be a part of the city. (more after the jump)
On my second day after a great bean, egg and cheese sandwich for breakfast we decided to walk the streets and neighborhoods to the bazaar. I was apprehensive as we moved away from our hotel and into the labyrinth of the streets. The first adventure was crossing the motor way which has no crosswalks (zebra crossings for some of you) or lights. It's essentially a real life game of Frogger. It actually sounds worse then it is and we got across relatively fast without problems. From here the real adventure begins as you enter the neighborhoods.
Our first stop was on a corner where a man runs a small convenience store, if you can even call it that, just outside of his home. The man was a primary school teacher for several years and spoke pretty good English. After a few pleasantries he asked if there was anything we needed from his store. We we told him that we were OK and preceded to invite us to join him for lunch. This was my first experience in Kurdish hospitality. It would also become a recurring event with everyone I met. In Kurdistan everyone considers people who are traveling to be their guest. It doesn't matter if you know them or not they are going to try and take care of you. It's a baffling concept to go from London, arguably one of the most modern cities in the world, where hardly anyone says hello to you if they aren't a friend to this kind of treatment in a city that looks like it has been unraveled at the seams and has seen more hardship than I can fathom.
After wondering the streets for a little while we came along two brothers killing time in front of there house. As we walked by one of them said hello so we stopped to chat. Both of the boys spoke great English and informed us that they would play playing football the rest of the afternoon.
For a second I remember my brother and I spending hours playing whiffle ball in the back yard but I'm brought back to reality as the two brothers point to the street we are standing on and claim that this is their street. FIFA street! No matter where you are sports transcend all things.
The rest of the walk to the bazaar that morning was surreal. As we wove in and out of the streets of Suli there were kids running, jumping and playing everywhere. You don't see that very often in bigger metropolitan cities or at least I haven't in the ones I've been in over the past few years.
We came across a group of girls that were picking flowers on their way home from school. They off course said hello and dazzled us with their English before all running down the road in elation from being children out of school on a sunny day I can only assume.
As we rounded the last corner before the Bazaar we happened into a big game of football in the street. As the boys realized we were Westerners than ran over and put together a quick team picture for me.
The city is beat up in places at best and literally destroyed in others which adds to the awkwardness of children playing everywhere. It's so counter intuitive in my head still but seems to fit right in with the Kurdish culture. I can't count how many people invited us in for lunch, dinner or tea. That also isn't including almost every shop owner offering to just give us whatever we were trying to buy. Throughout the entire trip I always felt like everyone was looking out for each other and always felt a strong sense of community. In some respects the Suli I saw was the Iraqi version of small town USA where you leave your door back door open just in case someone decides to drop by to chat the afternoon over a pot of coffee.
Read more...
The Sulaimani I saw that morning was quite different. I think your perspective changes when you get out and interact with the people and actually become part of the landscape instead of seeing it from 45mph behind a pane of glass. Hopefully my account of the morning shows a broader perspective of what it's like to be a part of the city. (more after the jump)
On my second day after a great bean, egg and cheese sandwich for breakfast we decided to walk the streets and neighborhoods to the bazaar. I was apprehensive as we moved away from our hotel and into the labyrinth of the streets. The first adventure was crossing the motor way which has no crosswalks (zebra crossings for some of you) or lights. It's essentially a real life game of Frogger. It actually sounds worse then it is and we got across relatively fast without problems. From here the real adventure begins as you enter the neighborhoods.
Our first stop was on a corner where a man runs a small convenience store, if you can even call it that, just outside of his home. The man was a primary school teacher for several years and spoke pretty good English. After a few pleasantries he asked if there was anything we needed from his store. We we told him that we were OK and preceded to invite us to join him for lunch. This was my first experience in Kurdish hospitality. It would also become a recurring event with everyone I met. In Kurdistan everyone considers people who are traveling to be their guest. It doesn't matter if you know them or not they are going to try and take care of you. It's a baffling concept to go from London, arguably one of the most modern cities in the world, where hardly anyone says hello to you if they aren't a friend to this kind of treatment in a city that looks like it has been unraveled at the seams and has seen more hardship than I can fathom.
After wondering the streets for a little while we came along two brothers killing time in front of there house. As we walked by one of them said hello so we stopped to chat. Both of the boys spoke great English and informed us that they would play playing football the rest of the afternoon.For a second I remember my brother and I spending hours playing whiffle ball in the back yard but I'm brought back to reality as the two brothers point to the street we are standing on and claim that this is their street. FIFA street! No matter where you are sports transcend all things.The rest of the walk to the bazaar that morning was surreal. As we wove in and out of the streets of Suli there were kids running, jumping and playing everywhere. You don't see that very often in bigger metropolitan cities or at least I haven't in the ones I've been in over the past few years.
We came across a group of girls that were picking flowers on their way home from school. They off course said hello and dazzled us with their English before all running down the road in elation from being children out of school on a sunny day I can only assume. As we rounded the last corner before the Bazaar we happened into a big game of football in the street. As the boys realized we were Westerners than ran over and put together a quick team picture for me.The city is beat up in places at best and literally destroyed in others which adds to the awkwardness of children playing everywhere. It's so counter intuitive in my head still but seems to fit right in with the Kurdish culture. I can't count how many people invited us in for lunch, dinner or tea. That also isn't including almost every shop owner offering to just give us whatever we were trying to buy. Throughout the entire trip I always felt like everyone was looking out for each other and always felt a strong sense of community. In some respects the Suli I saw was the Iraqi version of small town USA where you leave your door back door open just in case someone decides to drop by to chat the afternoon over a pot of coffee.Read more...
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