This past Wednesday marked the end of one chapter in
Kurdistan and the beginning of another.
My roommate, co-worker, and friend, Paige, recently departed Kurdistan
to head back to America. For the past 8
months we have been living together and essentially sharing this entire experience. There isn’t a large expatriate community
here, so for a bulk of the time it was very much Paige and I. Naturally, we both had our Kurdish friends,
but there is no replacing the connection you have with someone of the same
cultural background. It is very
different.
With
anyone you live, work, and spend a majority of your time with, you really get
to know the intricacies of their personality.
Paige and I are clearly different in many ways, and similar in
others. There were obviously many minor
annoyances in our time here, but I can honestly say that there were no major
problems. Most of the time, it was
smooth sailing. Had she not been here with
me, this experience would be entirely different. I probably would not have met so many people
so quickly (the benefit of being with the only blond around), but perhaps I would
have made a greater attempt to learn Kurdish and take up other endeavors. Who knows…..all in all, it was a positive
experience with her, and as this chapter closes, another one has already begun.
Samuel,
my British friend, has recently moved into Paige’s old room. Within days the place has undergone a nearly
complete makeover. Enlisting the help of
Warvin, we cleaned the entire place from top to bottom. Random things that have accumulated over the
past 8 months have been disposed of, and while we were drunk we even took out
the living room carpet. The place has a
much cleaner feel already. Samuel is
clearly different than Paige, but sometimes change is refreshing, and I very
much look forward to seeing how the next 5 months play out living with
him.
Just after a few days
we have already got into some mischief.
Last night we downed a liter bottle of Johnnie Walker: Black Label over
the course of the evening. We played
poker with friends (I won a whopping 3,000 IQD) and then played catch with the
football outside. Catch came to halt
after Samuel threw it onto the balcony of the person 2 floors below us. So far we have tried knocking to no avail and
also left a note in chicken scratch Arabic.
After that we drank on the deck some more and decided to go out for a
walk. We randomly saw Kevin and
convinced him to join us on an adventure to the bar. This is where the night is a little
hazy. We ended up in a bar drinking beer
with a policeman and a Peshmerga (soldier).
Again, we stayed until closing and then went out for chicken shawarma
from the best place in town.
On the way over this
taxi randomly stops and, in English, asks Samuel if he made a comment to him,
something along the lines of, “Fuck you.”
Clearly, Samuel said no such thing, but this man was fairly adamant that
he heard it. We exhorted him to get back
in his car and let it go. Being drunk,
patience wore thin with having to deal with this man, so I eventually did tell
him what he thought he heard the first time.
His eyes grew wide like something was going to happen, but he just got
in the car and drove away. Normally I would
be bothered by someone acting like that, but it was nothing a Doner Sultana
shawarma sandwich, or three, couldn’t cure.
Again we met a group of
totally random people while eating our chicken.
They were a group of kids, probably about 18, who told us they would
take us to a “club.” Even though I was
in my pajamas, shorts and a t-shirt, I didn’t care so we all said, “Let’s go!” As we get to this random place underneath a
bridge everyone exits the cab and we see two men leaving the “club.” Within 30 seconds, without warning, one man
pulls a gun from his pants and fires a single shot into the air. I don’t know the reason, and strangely
enough, I didn’t even blink. I just kept
walking into the “club” like nothing happened.
The “club,” as it turns out, did serve alcohol, but by this point I was already
well gone so I had no need. The place
was terrible. It was about 8 men pinky,
two dancing, and one overweight woman singing.
Our new acquaintances were trying to get me to dance, but rather than
dance I said we’re going outside and Samuel and I ran away.
Somehow, the night
still didn’t end there. I don’t know how
we got there, but we ended up at Jihan Hotel, a large, nice hotel on a
hill. It is where the UN people stay
when they come into town, and evidently there is a dance club on the top floor. This was the focus of our mission: to
dance. We stumble into the hotel and ask
a porter to take us to the club. Once we
get to the top floor we find a man sitting at a table, in what looks like a
dining room. No music. No dancing.
Just a fat man telling us that everything is closed. Dejected again, we took the stairs to the
roof to have a gander at the views. Here
it was decided that it was time to take the long walk to try and find a cab
ride home. Another day, another
adventure complete.
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