Lessons from my brother

My dear reader*

Before the Friday actually begins and the weekend schedule kicks off I thought I would write a quick entry. Life for me has been hectic and busy- work, and the little bits and pieces that I do here and there. But this time it was a special person in my life who had the adventure (yup! And I am the one blogging about it!)

My younger brother (who happens to also be my one and only sibling, and for that matter my entire life!!) went on a trip to Slemani, and from there around to some other places through the Garmiyan area and believe it or not he went to Baghdad as well. “It’s time I got to know my relatives well,” he said, which was his only reason for this unexpected and sudden journey. It took a lot of mastaw with my parents and he used his tactics well to persuade them.

I asked him to take pictures, he comes home with only five photographs! His excuse? “I didn’t have time!”

He arrived back home yesterday–and our place is back to being loud and noisy ever since. His 11-day trip felt like 11 months to me. This is not the point; the point is what the result of the trip was.

We sat together last night and he spoke of his stories, encounters-the good and not so good- as well as what he learned. The brother who once wanted to return and live and enroll in a University in Europe is not the same person I saw in front of me last night.

His texts and phone calls continued well into the night, he spoke to relatives that I don’t even know that they exist. He brought up names of relatives I have never heard of, he seemed to have had the time of his life.

Above: The signs reads: “Basra, Kut”

“Sazy, you feel like they are part of your blood.” He said describing some of our relatives in other parts of the country (who I haven’t had a chance to meet- please don’t blame me, I try to meet as many of my bigger family as I possibly can, but somehow there is always more. When you’re a Kurd with two parents who have more than a dozen brothers and sisters, it reaches a point where you pick your favorite aunts and uncles, and a few cousins. The rest are… well…for special occasions only.) But I was wrong.

There I was, sitting and listening to lessons, my younger brother was teaching me of what it means to be a Kurd and how lucky we are to have relatives—who we have barely met previously—that feel so much love and respect towards you.

So glad I don’t see these in Kurdistan.

The chance to be able to go and discover his greater family on his own widened his eyes and opened his heart. He is a new person. It is clear, because he is going to begin his first year in university in Kurdistan. A final decision that was officially confirmed yesterday!

When we live abroad we come back creating a wall with our greater family back home, but if we give them the chance, we can learn a lot from them, we can learn about ourselves—through them!

Above: And this, my dear reader, is Baghdad through my brother’s camera lense.

*Hope you missed my writing as much as I missed sitting and writing to you!

All the pictures of this entry were taken by M.M.

3 thoughts on “Lessons from my brother

Add yours

  1. Baghdad is really a beautiful city. I'd like to visit it one day when it's safe.

    You're right about relatives. Most of us have so many relatives who all have so many kids that you soon loose track of everyone, especially when you live abroad.

    P.s.: I love your Peshmarga Dream article


  2. @Anonymous – Hope you can visit Baghdad some day and bring back your memories there. It has its own unique taste. When you are living far away from home it is definately tough work trying to keep updated with your 'family developments' back home. I understand.

    Thanks for reading the article, glad you enjoyed it.

    Thanks for the comment and followign the blog!


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