Tag: guide

On my second full day in Iraqi Kurdistan, I left Erbil for the day with the help of a local guide and driver. I don’t like organized stuff and generally do not like group things, but here and there, a guide for a day (if the guide is good, and preferably if I am not with a group) elevates the whole trip. This was such a day.

I had wanted to visit the town of Akre and the religious site of Lalish. Erbil has tons of appealing day trips that are possible, but I narrowed it down to these places. Akre looked pretty and Lalish, fascinating. It is possible to visit these places from Erbil on your own with shared taxis, but it would be very difficult to visit both places in one day. So, I googled and found a guide: Haval Qaraman. I later found out that he is THE guide in the area, having done it the longest and with the best reputation. Most importantly he was tremendous company.

Haval picked me up in the morning and we started on the drive. The scenery was pleasant, if not beautiful. As we approached the mountains it became more lovely. We passed flocks of sheep and Syrian refugee camps, small shrines and rural areas.

The great thing was that Haval gave me all the information I wanted about Iraqi Kurdistan.  He told me about the history, the economy, politics, and about the various wars and invasions and how that affected people like him who live there. He also told me his story about how he grew up in Northern Iraq and how he learned English and set up his tourism business in an area exactly not known for tourism. It is a really good and interesting story, but it is not mine to tell.  Suffice it to say that I learned a lot from him and he answered all of my questions about life in Northern Iraq. And he was great company and had a sense of humour that meshed well with mine. Lots of laughs…and learning. Seriously, what else could I want? (No, he is not paying me to say these nice things.)

Akre

We visited the pretty town of Akre. It is nestled in the mountains north of Erbil and has great views over the valley. If you visit during the new year festival in March, it is the place to be, with people climbing the mountains with torches to celebrate.

The town was nice to visit. Small. No tourists that I saw.  We walked around the main square and the market. We had tea with locals at a tea shop on the square.

I insisted on taking my picture with the “I [heart] Akre” sign, even though I hate those signs. I would love someone to tell me where they started. There was a time when I never saw them, and now it seems that I can’t visit a city without a tacky “I [heart] ____” sign. I’m shocked Vancouver doesn’t have one yet. That said….it was Valentine’s Day, so what better time to pose with one of these eyesores? 

Also in Akre, we visited s shrine of a notable Sufi figure, Sheikh Abdul Aziz Gailani, the son of a founder of an order of Sufism. It was not in the Lonely Planet or the Bradt guides and I would never have found it on my own. Tucked away at the top of a dead-end street, is a building of no note. We left the car and I slipped into a tasteful black Abaya, walked shoeless through glittering gold doors and into a shimmering room of mirrors and colorful Arabic verses, with the casket in the middle.  It was very pretty and came with a lesson on the basics of Sufism. Haval assured me it was ok to take photos.

From Akre we journeyed West to Lalish.

Lalish

Lalish is a temple, not a town, and is the holiest site for the people of the Yazidi faith. Not familiar with Yadizism? Neither was I before this trip.

So the Yazidi people practice a religion that is very old, like pre-Zoroastrian old. And it is very specific to people from the region in and around Iraqi Kurdistan. There is some question about to what extent it is just a religion and to what extent it is just an ethnicity. (I am already questioning my use of ‘just.’) Anyway, it is a very niche and ancient religion. Sometimes it is described as an offshoot of Islam, which is totally wrong. It is its own thing and has been persecuted by people of many other faiths for being heathenistic. In short, the Yazidis are monotheistic, but believe that god is in everything, including fire, which has left to some referring to the Yazidis as fire or devil worshippers, which isn’t right either. But they do have some interesting beliefs, like that black snakes are sacred because they saved Noah’s ark from sinking because a black snake plugged a hole. And there is a whole thing about peacocks that is fascinating. Haval told me a lot about the faith and their rituals. It was all so interesting – in fact, I kept exclaiming it – but I don’t want to write all the details of what I learned because I don’t want to deprive someone else of the discovering of learning in the moment, as I did. 

One thing I will say is that in the 2010s, the Yazidi people were the victims of a genocide at the hands of ISIS. The details are horrific, and the community is still grappling with the effects. It is certainly worth reading about. It is incredible that it is as awful as it is, and I was totally unaware. One of the greatest lessons history has taught me is that people are continuously awful to one another, and yet, we can also be kind; and the two truths will carry on.

Apparently there has been a Yazidi temple on the site for over 4000 years, though the buildings that are there are not that old. To enter the site you must remove your shoes. Not just to enter the temples, but the whole site. So, plan accordingly if you visit in winter. The site itself is a collection of shrines and holy places. No one really lives there, but there will always be a few key people on site.  I was lucky enough to meet the woman who carries out all the baptisms and a holy man who carries out the exorcisms. (They don’t use that word, but it is the same idea, and they have a specific room/building where that takes place.) We met him and had tea with his wife. (No, they had not seen the classic horror film.)

The tombs of the Yazidi are interesting, conical, stone structures that dot the landscape.

Inside one of the buildings, which reached far underground, was a series of also very unusual and interesting holy places.  Stone jars of water or oil, bits of colored fabric knotted for wishes and good luck, a stone structure onto which a piece of colored fabric is thrown for good luck, and utter disrespect of you trod on a threshold. Unconnected to the religion, some of these dark, underground rooms had walls covered with ghostly handprints, which made me immediately think of the end of the Blair Witch. A reference understood by no one.

I loved the visit.

Back to Erbil and a Detour

On the drive back to Erbil, we stopped at a restaurant for a feast of vegetables, bread, soup, and rice (there was meat too, but I don’t partake). It was quite satisfying. Thankfully, I was allowed to eat in the main room with Haval and the other man, and not relegated to the ‘women and family room’.  Women are forbidden or discouraged from eating in the main room of restaurants, and there is generally a room at the back, sectioned off for women and their families. The back rooms are fine, but they are often windowless and tucked away. Not appealing.

After lunch, we were on a straight shot for Erbil, but made a stop at a trailer parked on the side of the highway with a little tent out front. The trailer is a coffee house operated by a Syrian refugee.  He spends 6 days a week living and selling coffee out of this trailer and one day a week he goes back to the refugee camp to be with his family.  Haval told me he has been doing this for about 8 years while he waits to be able to return to Syria. I found that quite moving. What a lonely and frustrating existence, but what an incredible entrepreneurial spirit; to make the best out of a bad situation.

I had Kurdish coffee, which is not coffee at all, but something closer to chicory, but made from roasted terebinth fruits (similar to pistachios?). It was sprinkled with a little chocolate and was excellent.

I was dropped off back at my hotel just as it got dark. It was a thoroughly satisfying day. I felt like a learned so much and experienced and saw things that few do. And none of that would have been possible if I was on my own.

I did pop out that evening for a street falafel and a spin around the square, but then to bed. The next day I had hoped to visit Mosul, but that was not possible, which turned out to be for the best, as the next day was consumed with work. But my final day in Erbil was filled with more city exploration and experience.