A few weeks ago, myself and a friend (Rachel) started out on
what promised to be yet another adventure. It was relatively well planned, at
least according my admittedly lax standards, with food in hand and a map to
Ahmad Awa. This waterfall is by all intents and purposes on the Iranian/Iraqi
border and is near where those American “hikers” were arrested a few years ago.
We had no intention of venturing off the beaten path to experience that
international incident. We were simply going to soak up the sight of water, a
rare thing indeed here.
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| A Suly at night picture, just for fun |
Aso, Rachel’s Kurdish friend, arrived at ridiculous o’clock
for a Friday morning. And by ridiculous I mean 6 a.m. but my point still
stands. It was already bright sunny and cheerful edging on hot by the time we
got started. We were relaxing and chatting when the car died. Full stop. After
several attempts to get it started again, we trooped out to look under the
hood. None of us had any idea about what to look for. After about 20 minutes of
staring a friendly taxi driver stopped to aid us. He pointed out a broken belt,
shocked that we knew so little about car maintenance that we did not see it was
missing. Randomly enough there was a spare belt in the trunk. Still, none of
the necessary tools to replace it were to be had. Lucky for us we were waylaid
right next to someone’s homestead. Aso took us back to see if we could avail
ourselves of the famous Kurdish hospitality.
We lucked out. They welcomed us warmly and I got a lesson in
something I have been itching to watch since I got here. The making of the
traditional Kurdish bread.
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| We were totally clueless but the women who were doing the baking were pros |
They kindly offered to give us a hands on lesson, but I
refused on the grounds that I did not want to cause a disaster, which I am sure
it would have been. It is a surprisingly delicate operation and if not made
thin enough it will go bad very quickly. Personally, I thought it was one of
the best parts of the trip, though it no way planned. It was very fun watching Rachel practice her Kurdish while I sat there smiling and nodding. I have become gifted at pretending like I know what is happening.
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| The bread is so thin that you can see light through it |
About two hours after we drifted to the unanticipated stop,
we were on our way again. Unlucky for us, this meant that all the good picnic
spots were taken and that we had to park about a kilometer away. Bit of a side
note. When we went through the last checkpoint before the border, the guards at
the check point took my residency card away with them to ensure that I would
return. Made me a bit nervous but I got it back with no issues.
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| Of course I could not take pictures of the actual checkpoint, but this is good enough, right? |
It was hot. Really really hot. In the end we hiked into the
water. I fully intend on seeing those
falls someday, alas, it was not to be on that day. As we wandered around trying
to find a spare couple of inches to perch near the water, it became
increasingly clear to me just how popular a picnic spot this place is for the
Kurds. There were probably thousands of people tucked under the greenery
(Green! In Iraq! I nearly fell over in shock) whiling away time as the barbeque
cooked large amounts of kebab. We accidentally wandered into what were apparently
male only areas – have rarely felt so uncomfortable in my life. Eventually we
simply made our way down to the water and sat on some rocks.
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| Very sweaty, but happy to be near water |
Kurdish hospitality set in again as we were provided with
kebab from this family, grapes and peaches from another, and watermelon from
yet another. We did end up being in some pictures with a family in exchange but
it was worth it. After about 2 hours of sitting there Rachel and I were
actually cold, something we have not experienced in months.
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| Traditional Kurdish garb there, still have not figured out the turban thing entirely |
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| I remember doing this as a child |
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