September 3rd

I am aware that my last entry doesn’t look like much and it’s not very descriptive. I apologize for that, I was at the office and in a hurry to get out of there as I had the day off. The thing about Kurdistan is that they go out of their way (unconsciously) to make you feel out of place. I feel out of place as I still haven’t started work, and I was just there to check my e-mails. While I was typing away with my friends, I felt that my new colleagues were very hard at work planning this fall and I was just taking up space. If this was in Europe, I’d claim my place as naturally as I would claim my own hand. It’s different here. I just feel out of place, and I can’t help it. I might feel like an outsider at work, but I have made a habit of fighting for my own space otherwise. When we shop, I’m decisive and don’t take shit from the locals! I argue with greedy taxi drivers, and I schlep around like a true Kurdish woman.

After finishing my e-mails and online work, C and I left to do some shopping. The pillows at my uncle’s house are very hard and kill my neck so I went to the ever so famous Zagros to buy a nice head support. Lunch was in order post the pillow-shopping, and let’s just say that a Kurdish cheeseburger has nothing to do with regular cheeseburgers. Kurdistan keeps me entertained at least. C and I were walking down “cadêy sahôl”, the snow-street as it’s called, and felt slightly fatigued from the heat. We decided to rest on a bench. I love looking around and staring at things, something that’s not very normal for girls here. Staring aimlessly at cars, I discovered a blond man staring back at me. I was startled and before I knew it the American was waving at me from his car. I politely waved back and though that perhaps I’ll never adapt to the conservative Middle Eastern culture.

Thursday I am going to the authorities to get my temporary “green card”. Every month we “foreigners” have to apply to stay here, pay an amount of money and have our picture taken just to be able to exist in Kurdistan. If I’m joking? No I am completely serious. The electricity here is nonexistent and the fasting are going through a living hell. The disputes over Khaneqin have allegedly made Baghdad reduce Suleymania’s electricity. We watch television every day and I have yet to see anyone pursue this issue and ask a politician about the situation. The other day I watched a local channel financed by the communists, and they reported on the filth piling up in the less wealthy areas. What exactly happened to our old peshmargas who risked their lives for the wellbeing of Kurds? Are they the ones driving around in exclusive cars and sporting the latest in designer artillery? Did they leave the 70’s Kalashnikovs for the dollars of the 21st century?
I can’t help but think about Ibrahim Xeyat as he sings “Rêbwari yêk reyÎn, cîya nabinawa” (We are the travelers of the same road, we shall never part). Did our heroes leave us after all?


Fridays and Saturdays are the weekends here. This means that the first workday is Sunday. Sunday I’ll be picked up at 6.am to leave for Erbil. The organization has arranged a week long training course for the employees in the Cultural Development desk at PDA.
I finally got to meet my boss; Mr. M. who’s title is desk manager. He answers to Mrs. D, who is the coordinator who again answers to Mr. S who can be best described as the boss of PDA. I thought I’d bore you with information about the organization’s hierarchy. The cultural development desk specializes in workshops on gender relations, the patriarchal society of Kurds and regular publications in newspapers as well as radio shows about gender inequality. This is what I’m told so far, but I won’t claim anything until I actually work with them./H