To my dearest reader, still the most loyal blog follower in the world…
Sorry for being disloyal* but what can I say life and its roller coaster ride has taken me away… today (correction: tonight!) I am not writing from a mountain top, I am not writing with little children pressing the laptop and playing with my hair, I am not writing surrounded by relatives discussing everything from Obama to the neighbour’s baby; I am not writing by a waterfall in Bekhal, nor am I writing from the top of the citadel. No I am not in Khanaqin or Mandaly, and I haven’t passed Suli or Duhok. I am not in a village on a mountain top and no, I am not in the orphanage or the elderly people’s home.
My dearest reader, after five years tonight I write to you from a distant land…. I have flown out of my nest. Tonight I am not writing from Kurdistan. No. I am not in Hawler.
|A key in my hand to open a wide future…|
I am writing from a small room, in a university accommodation all the way in the UK**. I have made myself at home as much as possible; a Kurdish flag hung on the right, on the left (at the back of the door) a large poster of the Bekhal waterfall, a little more to the left on the bathroom door a poster of the Minaret, and behind me a picture of the citadel. But in front of me, staring at me, is a picture of four people smiling (mu family!) and drawings illustrated by my dearest cousins Haval and Lava!
Exactly ten days have passed since I left home. What do I miss?
Listening to choni (Kwi in Hawleri) and sarchaw
Relative gatherings and guests in the evenings
The fact that every day was a different day and barely anyone was running around catching up to their daily schedule
That 9 a.m. usually means 11:30 and half an hour means one-and-a-half hour
Going to a government office and being sent from room 6 to 8 then to 3 and then back to 6 before going to room 11 to collect stamps and signatures and realizing in the end I need to come back another three times before the job is done
Sitting on the couch flipping through Kurdish channels
Walking through Erbil Doctors’ Road and complaining non-stop
The view of the citadel when driving
How cars don’t always drive perfectly- let’s face it, never drive perfectly!
Dolma, bryani, fasoolya and brnj and every other food that sparkles with unhealthy oil
I miss how everyone admits that they’re on a diet when reaching out for another Baqlawa (a type of sweet you must have when dieting!)
Home is not perfect, as you can well see it is drenched in its flaws… but home is home, with all its flaws, it remains the nest.
I promise this blog will uphold its pledge to bring you the best of Kurdistan… even though I may be far.
*Actually twice I wrote a blog entry, but decided not to publish it—too emotional for the context of this blog. But this time, I am going to click “publish” no matter what.
**where I am pursuing my postgraduate studies… trying to make a dream come true.