Looking for the rage the media speaks of...

I am back in Sulaimani again. Before I flew I sat in the CPT Aboriginal Justice Team's house in Toronto and read of horrific things that were happening in the Middle East. I looked at maps that showed where these things were talking place and the blue dots that covered many, many places in the area where I was headed. I knew that my friends and extended family might be wondering why I was heading out on the plane into the area where this was taking place.

However, as I flew I knew that I was not worried. I spoke to an older French man on the bus shuttle. His last words to me were, "I hope you come back alive". But I was not worried. I saw no evidence in Istanbul of this rage despite it being the Turkish weekend day off and seeing the streets filled with Turkish people in conservative dress. 

On my first day here I asked our advisor and friend, Mohammed, what he had observed. He said that all had been quiet although he had heard of a small protest in capital city, Hawler/Erbil. I Facebook chatted with another friend of our team whose home is up north in Cholman . He is a journalist and I expected that he would have heard of demonstrations of rage. He said that all he knew of were  peaceful demonstrations in Hawler, up north and in Sulaimani.

Avaaz website posted an article talking of the media's hyperbole of the situation. It spoke of the tiny percentage of Muslims who were taking to the streets and the even tinier who were using violence. The vast majority, even if upset at the content of the youtube movie, were going about their daily lives.
http://en.avaaz.org/783/muslim-rage-protests-newsweek-salafists

This is what I see in Sulaimani. I have not received any more attention than usual due to my foreignness. However, I relished the attention I did get on Friday afternoon on my walk home from the bazaar.

First some background information:

Last year when I arrived the bathroom tap was dripping a lot. No one else seemed to mind enough to act, so I took it upon myself to give it a try. I fugured that all it needed was a couple of little rubber O rings. Well, first I had to get it apart which took about 7 trips to the nearby tiny hardware store to find the right size of wrench/spanner. Then, once it was apart I realized that it was a whole contraption inside that tap. So I took it over and tried to find the right size. (Of course with each trip I had to wait until all men were served, plus a few more that came after me. I learned to be a little more assertive!)

But alas- it still was leaking and so I remembered a special plumber white tape that can be used to wrap around pipes. I decided to try a new larger place. I wore my big shoulder bag plus a wool shawl. Amazingly , the proprieter was a woman, the first I had ever seen  serving in a shop.

And she had a tiny girl with her. After showing her some masking tape and a piece of pipe that I had brought for such purposes, she knew exactly what I needed. Then I went to pay and the minor catastrophe happened. The little girl had walked up to my legs and was hidden under my bag. I tripped over my shawl that hung low and stepped all over her with alot of my weight. Ah. I felt so horrible as she cried softly and her mother comforted her (and me). Fortunately, I knew the word- biburra, I'm sorry.

I met the family a couple more times when I purposefully went to their shop for hardware needs.

But let's fast track to this week. Team mate Rosemary and I had gone to the bazaar and I decided to take the way home that passed their shop. As I came up to the shop I saw the woman, Nazanin, and her 3 little girls: Sara, Sanaria and little Sima who would no longer fit under my shoulder bag.  They saw me coming and were very excited. As I approached them I could hear Sima saying, Katy, Katy. Nazanin asked us into the house and served a welcome cup of water. We laughed and laughed as I tried to remember Kurdish that I had not touched for 4 months. I felt so happy to be with them.

Some of my favourite pictures of Iraqi Kurdistan

Some people send their rugs out to be washed. Others pull them out onto their roof or front yard and scrub them down with the water hose, a bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush. Then they are hung from the roof top, the water just rolls off and they dry quickly in the hot sun.

Our small livingroom rug was getting quite grimey so Pat decided he could tackle the beating and washing.

This woman and small boy were walking in front of our house. I imagine they were heading home to get ready for the evening meal.

 On my walk home from the bazaar I spied these boys practising an official pastime.

This mother and daughter were standing way up on the roof of their house. The mother did not know I was there and the girl just watched. As I took the photos a man drove up beside me and parked. As he got out of the car he said , "Aw juana?/She is beautiful?". That broke the moment.

These men meet in a vacant lot not far from our house. They find pieces of cardboard to sit on, set up a fine dominoes table and spend hours playing the game. I had observed them several times as I passed, so on one of my last days there this time I stopped to ask if I could take their photo. I fully expected some to say no and then I would not take one. But they were all quite willing. This actually was the third photo, after I had convinced them to continue with their game.

This was the first photo. They arranged themselves. My team mate Pat thinks that they look like a boy band.

Pigeons at the bazaar

This man sells sandwiches- the  typical fast food that is very cheap. Here he has falafel, chicken and chicken livers. His sandwiches were very tasty.

A tailor in his shop at the bazaar. It seems that the men have more public sewing places and they make the men's clothing. The women, like my friend Sharaban, have their sewing rooms at home and sew the women's clothing.

The sunset makes this construction zone look quite beautiful. They are building some sort of building to do with electricity near to our house.

Readjustment to Winnipeg and a visit to Sunneh

I am back in Canada after having a wonderful two week visit in Germany with my daughter Janelle and her husband Laurens. As always it takes me awhile to readjust to being away from Kurdistan. I have spent some time looking over the photos that I took in the last three months. I have found a few that I have not shared yet. For the Kurdish people who look at my blog I think that I will make some blog posts in the next months about my life here in Canada. So stay tuned to this space!!

I just read a recent post by my newest team mate, Carrie. She is an avid blogger/journaler and I am so happy because it means that I will be able to keep track of my team`s activities while I am gone this summer. Her blog address is http://spacklegeek.livejournal.com/ if you would like to follow her adventures.

The topic she wrote about is the team`s recent visit to Sunneh. I had a visit to the same village about a week before I left. It was one of the most wonderful trips of the last 3 months. I won`t write a lot, but I want to show you some photos of the wonderful people I met there.

Breakfast along the way (a lentil soup, and yogurt and bread.) On this trip we travelled with Soran and his taxi. Soran often drives us so knows what CPT is about. He is able to explain us to the guards at checkpoints.

Here is Lukasz with the English teacher for the older students. He had asked if we would be able to find him an English book on Greek mythology. L. found one while he was away in the US.

We taught some English classes to get to know the students and to let them get to know us. On the this trip teammate Laura started the process of videotaping for a short video on life in the village.

We set off with 3 girls and 2 boys from the Grade Nine class who also live in Sunneh. We asked them to tell us about and show us their village.

As we stood beside the kani/spring I took some portraits.

Two of the younger students (the older ones come in the morning and younger in the afternoon) joined us on the walk.

The beauty of the mountains around the village of Sunneh

The young man in the first portrait invited us to visit his home. The teacher told him that he needed to make sure we got lunch. So we walked to his house, met his family and had a wonderful simple meal of dolma and bread. Here is his sister and her baby girl.

His mother and her granddaughter.

His father. He told us that 12 years ago he encountered a land mine in the fields.

His mother proudly showed us what she was working on. She takes reeds and weaves them together with the many coloured strings. I believe she was saying that would become an enclosure for their sheep. (I was the CPter with the most Kurdish on this visit. I was very pleased with how much I was able to say and understand, but I missed a lot.)

The younger women left our meal early to continue making the bread. The dough is rolled out on the low table, placed onto the cushion and then laid onto the steel rounded oven. It turns out very thin and crispy. This bread keeps for a long time and then is rehydrated just before eating to make it softer.

After we left the first household we visited one of the girl's family. This is her grandmother.I have learned that a smile is not something to look for when taking photos.

This is her little brother. He was working hard at getting the nutmeat out of the walnut shell.

Waiting for the verdict

This rough sketch and the writing below it was my effort to stay awake during two hours sitting in court. I tried to concentrate and listen for words that I knew but this became somewhat hypnotizing. I very much wanted to fall asleep. It did not help that I could not drink coffee that morning for fear of  having to need the toilet in the middle of the trial.

This is a rough unartistic sketch of the police officer guarding the prisioners. I could not get the perspective to include them.

CAGES

Two men before me are in a cage. Vertical bars go from the chest-high horizontal rail to the floor. There are eight inches between each bar. It keeps two grown men contained- with the help of two watchful police officers and at least five others standing in the aisle.

But this cage would not contain a toddler boy. Twenty-five years ago Ibrahim would have squeezed through the bar giggling and squirming in the blink of an eye.

The cage would not contain the rabbits in my garden at home. They would see it as an open invitation to leap out and eat my lettuce.

But two men are contained. They stand and wait for the discussion and arguments to finish and the verdict to come down. Will they escape from this chest-high cage to enter another much larger one that will be home for years, or their whole life? Or will the accusation of police- murder in the midst of demonstration be lifted and they will be able to go back to a barless home with loved ones?

Seven months ago Ibrahim Kaka Hama was arrested on the charge of inciting his acquaintance Bilal to shoot a police officer during the demonstrations last year. He is from the city of Halabja where some demonstrations took place.

CPT Iraq has followed his trial. After his arrest, he and his family were afraid that there would be a secret trial after which he would be put away secretly. As the weeks went on it became apparent that this would not be so, that he would have a public trial. However, the trail dragged on and on. For the most part we did not know what was being said during the trial sessions. They were in Kurdish and of course verbal communication during the trial was forbidden. So, after each session a couple of friends would inform us of the events of the day. One of these people, Nasik, was one of the leaders of the demonstrations in Sulaimani. She has been supporting families of people who had been killed, injured or accused during the time of the 2011 demonstrations.  She expressed her frustration with the process. Often the lawyers were not prepared, or the witnesses' testimony was based entirely on hear-say. We heard from various sources that they felt he was set-up to prove political points. A lawyer friend had read all the documentation and felt there was not doubt that Ibrahim was innocent.

Last week, the media announced that today 19 April would be the last trial date. Rumors flew that there was not any evidence to convict Ibrahim and that he would be released. Many people lined the hallway of the courthouse to witness this event. However, the judge was not able to be there. He had been pulled away for a more pressing case. So, back Ibrahim goes to the prison to wait for another week. Hopefully then the long wait will be over.

Friday photos from Sulaimani

Fridays is the Muslim day of prayer. So it is day off for all CPT Iraqi Kurdistan team (unless something important comes up). Friday is a day to sleep in, have a leisurely cup of coffee (Colombian- straight from that country, sent by our former team mate Ramyar and our support team co-ordinator, Milena). Then, after prayers I usually take a leisurely 45 minute walk to the centre of the city. The bazaar (market, souk) is there as well as many, many people. I really enjoy the hustle and push and sound of the market.

However, as you may realize, I am quite visible among all those people. I am greeted and stared at and I have had a couple of people say- I saw you on the street walking to the bazaar on Friday. My hair and clothes don't blend  in.

On these walks I enjoy using my camera. I am often in a quandry- do I ask permission and make the situation where the person is posing or do I try to be inabtrusive to get a more natural shot? So, I try to do both.

So here are a few photos from the last couple of Fridays in the centre of town and the bazaar.

A tiny person in her traditional Zhilee Kurdi (Kurdish clothes)

A small gathering in the public park

Two young men with their stand selling large Syrian raisans. I loved the black drapery, black raisans, black shirts and black hair.

This father was sitting by the side of the sidewalk waiting. I imagine his wife was out shopping as he was not begging. He was quite pleased to grant me a picture.

Spring is a time for eating early fruit that isn't ripe. The lime green fruit is green immature cherries. He had a bag of salt to eat them with. the other green item is immature almonds. The skin is fuzzy and you eat it along with the soft almond inside. I did not really want a whole bag so he gave me a few samples, along with his photo.

The women in the second-hand textiles market. This is my favourite place too. Lots of curtains and small rugs and all other kinds of fabrics that someone has decided they did not need any more. Most seem to come from Europe or the UK.

A vendor prepares mechanical toys for sale.

One of them worked

His colleague had some trouble with Barbie on a motorcycle.

A sewing machine salesman (and rugs and various other gadgets)



Bits and bobs about sewing and quilting

This blog post is about the pieces part of my blog name. I am a quilter. That means that I take large pieces of fabric, cut them up and sew them back together again in wonderful ways.

 I just finished the work on my youngest daughter, Katrina and her  husband Paul's quilt. At home I will have to quilt it (which means putting a warm wool middle layer and then a bottom layer of fabric and making lots of little stitches to hold it together.)

Their quilt is based on a wrought iron fence on the Mt of Olives in Jerusalem

 I am currently working on parts of the wedding quilt for my oldest daughter, Janelle,  and her  husband, Laurens. They were married in October and now live in Germany. They asked for a quilt based on the theme of the Navy Pier in Chicago where they spent hours getting to know each other. So this quilt will be very, very colourful because the pier has a lot of colour, along with a lot of blue because of course Lake Michigan is all around.

My friend in Winnipeg asked to see the work that I have done so far on it . I have finished the centre heart and 4 of the pinwheel type circles. I have seven more to go of those, but I did not bring enough fabric this trip. Thse will have dark blue fabric around them, not purple gingham.

Now, I did say that I had not brought enough fabric along but the bazaar does have huge amounts of fabric. However, for quilting I prefer cottons and those are very scarce here. But, I thought that my quilting friends would be intrigued by the fabric salesman who brings the fabric to your door in the back of his truck. Maybe a business idea for some enterprising person in Winnipeg?

I have seen other trucks where the fabric bolts are standing up nice and straight and seem to be organized very well. Of course, at the time I was either zooming by in a car or I did not have my camera with me.

I was out on a walk with my Kurdish flashcards when I spied these future seamstress/tailors. They had a fantastic bag full of little bits of fabric from traditional Kurdish women's clothes. I asked if I could take their photo and they agreed and jumped up after every click to take a look at the photo.

After I took this one then the girl in the pink said, "tawow" (finished) and then went back to the serious business of exploring the fabric.

 This photo is for my friends and family who love second-hand shops. Here is one that comes right to your door.

My friend Sharaban has been a seamstress for 12 years. Her work is to make traditional Kurdish women's clothes. I have written about her in an earlier post because she cut out dresses for my two daughters. One of these dresses sewed up very easily, but the I could not figure out the second one. So I brought it back to Kurdistan for her to help me. She commented," the dress gets to travel all the way to Canada and back to Kurdistan, while I stay here."  I wanted to give her a gift of my creativity so I made her a pin cushion and gadget holder to go beside her sewing machine. Then I filled it with a few things to make sewing easier: a seam ripper, thread snippers and a box of pins. But the thing she got very excited about was a pair of pinking shears. She asked," can I use these when I don't have an overlocker/serger?|" I told her that unfortunately the serger was much better at holding back fraying thread, but the pinking shears (they make a zig zag cut instead of just straight) would do a good job. She immediately began to "pink" some seams in her sister's dress.