A friend of mine put together this excellent look into the faces and backdrop of Kurdistan. Enjoy!
Cultural Reflections
May 24, 2012
March 29, 2012
Newroz
Every year the Kurdish spring comes like a rolling thunder, cascading over the mountains. And this year was no different. After suffering with below freezing temperatures for months in a land not normally known for cold, the Kurdish people have been wishing and hoping for the coming of spring like never before.
March 21st is the day that brings Kurds together from all over the world. It's a day for dancing, for picnics larger than life, for dressing in exotic colorful garments that bespeak of blaring festivity, for the intake of food in massive quantities, for more dancing, guns, kites, and great big bonfires.
Check it out a 100+ dancing line, can you imagine?
It's a day for Kurds to declare to the world, "We are who we are. There is no other people quite like us!" and to renew their commitment to their identities as Kurds and to one another.
Typically, whole cities are cleared out by 10am, as Kurds flock to the hills en mass vying for the best picnic spots covering the mountains, and this will go on for days.
Ours too was an early start as we loaded up the car with goodies, picnic gear, and headed for mountains with a train of other cars seeking the 'wild' country where picnics of this kind are celebrated the best.
It's hard to overstate the importance of the Kurdish New Year that they call Newroz. Like the Hebrew calendar of old, Kurds date their years from the beginning of spring.
Perhaps, a good comparison would be the combination of Thanksgiving and Christmas blended with an out of control 4th of July celebration, all in one week. For Persians, it may last as long as two weeks.
Not wanting to be left out, we lighted our own bonfire nearby our house with the help of a dab of kerosene. It was awesome!
As the flames struck the night sky, the winds swirled around joining the smoke of literally hundreds of fires all across the city and into the hills -- a virtual offering of smoke to the 'gods'.
Newroz is not centered in Islam in any way, and the most argent followers reject it's unIslamic background. But, Kurds don't mind. It's in their blood. It's something they've been doing for as long as they can remember, and the tradition only seems to be in the upswing.
This year, however, something completely new was added to this centuries long tradition. A small oblong shaped ball, known as an American football to some, snuck into the foray. Before anyone realized it, 3 of them were being thrown around in topsy turvy ways, and a seed was planted that might just begin to change the way this decidedly Eastern tradition is celebrated. Or, I could just be dreaming.
If you ever get to celebrate this special time with a Kurd, you'll never regret it. We had a blast!
January 02, 2012
A Pajama Day for a New Year
The first day of the year began slowly. Getting up we looked out the window to see a multi-chrome picture of greying skies without the least bit of evidence of our helium engorged friend.
It was clearly one of those days. As I was trying to figure out our new, fangled coffee maker my eyes started to swim and my body instantly told me that it did not like my bi-pedal stance. Quickly back to the bedroom I sank into bed with my wife’s words hanging over me, “maybe you just need to stay in bed today.”
For the past 3 days we had been traveling around Kurdistan back and forth from the capital city a couple of times, down the Kirkuk road to visit some earthquake refugees, and over to another Kurdish college town to visit some dear friends with children the same ages as our own. It was a fun-filled time, but nevertheless, exhausting.
New Year’s Eve passed somewhat prematurely at the Ray home as we crawled into bed well before the midnight hour. And now, it was New Year’s Day with the sinus pressure in my head making even thinking a chore.
Dawn prayed for me, then passed me some blueberry muffins and a hot cup of coffee. Ahhh, marriage, isn’t it wonderful!
Before I knew it I was up again, but keeping the pjs on in case my world decided to suddenly take another quick spin. No pressing work to do on New Year’s Day anyway, I thought to myself.
Kurdistan in the winter can be quite the dreary place up here in the mountains.
The rain has been constant the last few days making our world a very muddy, wet place indeed; lack of proper drainage canals or even proper roads make it all the worse.
While in the summer we regularly complain of not having enough water, in the winter, water damage is the norm: water seeping right through our walls, peeling back the paint, dribbling through the window frames and turning our house into a slick, damp, cold habitation. When you’ve got cement walls, well, you just have to live with it.
The morning temperature reading stays in the upper 40s most days – that’s inside the house mind you. Outside it usually hovers in the 30s, and this is Iraq you say??? Yes, this is Iraq at 2,300 feet above sea level with mountains as high as 8,500 feet at our door step. With extremes like this perhaps you can forgive the people for being well, a little extreme.
Summer time temperatures reach nearly 125 F, yet right now you’d never guess it as we huddle together in one room around a kerosene heater. We’ve all but forgotten that we have a second and third floor in our house – that’s the “see your breath” parts of the house that we try to avoid.
Central Heating? Ah, no.
This is probably not the picture of Iraq you have seen on television, and it certainly doesn’t hold for the whole of the country. Traveling just 2 hours south of us and down to about 400 feet above sea level, the capital city of Iraqi-Kurdistan, Erbil, rarely sees the kind of rain we get here, as life goes on almost in a near season-less cycle. It’s amazing what a few mountains can do to the regional climate.
We love our trips to Erbil now and then, to get out of the damp mountains and feel some warmer, dry air on our faces. But, we’d just left Erbil the day before, and today, I needed to face not only the wet weather, but a new year to boot.
The day wore on and still my pajamas clung to me, more like pasted to me. I’d been wearing the same socks for nearly 48 hours with long johns beneath. It had been more than a couple days since I showered. Taking a shower is kind of an extreme sport here when the tile floor feels cold enough to give you frost bite.
But by the afternoon, a warm, hot shower finally beckoned to me, so I placed one of our kerosene heaters into the bathroom to warm it up a bit, but alas, no hot water. Dawn had used up the hot water to do laundry, guess this new year’s day is turning more grim than I thought. Maybe I should have stayed in bed.
As the afternoon turned into evening, our power supply always makes a switch from the government electricity that we get from about 1-5pm, to a community/neighborhood generator that gives us another 5-6 hours of power (albeit reduced wattage), before the government power kicks back in through the night. The mornings (9-1pm) we usually do not have power and folks around here have just learned to live with that; for, it’s actually much better than it has been in years past.
We’re not sure exactly why yet, but whenever our power switches from government power to community power our fuse box flips requiring some oversight: the box is on the street by our house.
Below is a photo of our electrician with my neighbor holding the ladder, who came to our house no less than 10 times in the past 2 months to help us with our electricity. Here he is untangling the wires of our generator power cable and just below him you can see a little yellow cover (a Valvoline oil container cut in two) that contains our fuse box.
“Climbing” up the pole where the box is mounted means one thing to me – I better get some clothes on. So, as the sun begins to set (around 4:30 here in the mountains on the far eastern side of the time zone), I’m finally putting on some jeans and a sweater to go flip our switch back on. After flipping switch at least 7 times it finally sticks, and the lights in the house turn back on. Ahh, electricity.
As you can probably see, Kurdistan has a way of reminding one to be thankful for all the little things one normally forgets.
As the New Year dawns, I pray we’ll find our hearts more thankful than ever for all that God places into our path whether extreme cold or extreme hot, exciting mountain peaks or boring plodding plains, PJ days or days flooded with activity, gentle winds of friendship or the harsh realities of our sinful world. The New Year is God’s year, and I hope His pleasure beams over us more than it ever has before.
September 28, 2011
September 27, 2011
Land Mines
"...8,000 people have been handicapped by land mines and 6,000 killed. In addition, 18 members of mine clearance teams have lost their lives and more than 60 have been injured." reports Rudaw
The land mine crisis in Iraq rarely gets the attention of the media, however, in the past week, I've noticed two articles about it.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-15070811
http://www.rudaw.net/english/kurds/4001.html
In our region, it is said that a land mine is detonated every week, by either a passing sheep
or, in the worst case, a human being.
Most of the mines were placed over 30 years ago during the Iran - Iraq war, but they are still here today just as deadly as when they were buried beneath the earth.
On a climb to a peak overlooking our valley, we came across several of these signs, unfortunately, we were starring at the backs of them. We had just walked through a marked mine field. Fortunately, no one missed a step.
When I look into the mountains of our region, my heart just craves to conquer these beautiful, majestic peaks. Some of them we have climbed with careful guides, but many will just have to remain unconquered.
For the Kurds who say that they "have no friends, but the mountains," this is a bitter reality indeed, living entrapped and somehow sheltered at the same time by a deadly beauty.
August 02, 2011
Ramadan Prayer Guide
For those of you up on your Muslim holidays, Ramadan has just started -- it's a time where the Muslim faithful fast and pray intending to teach them "about patience, spirituality, humility and submissiveness to God."
For us as followers of Jesus living here in Iraq, we take time to fast and pray too, asking God to reveal Himself to us in deeper ways and bring revelation of the truth to our friends. Here is a guide that may help you pray with us too.
For more materials on how to pray visit:
July 11, 2011
A Big Fat Kurdish Wedding
Tomorrow, we're taking leave of Kurdistan for a week to fly to Greece where we will experience a truly Big Fat Greek Wedding. That's right, one of my best buds in the world is getting married to a gal we introduced him to who happens to hail from Patras, Greece.
This comes just after attending a Kurdish wedding last week that I thought might interest folks. Here are some pics of our time sweating it out in the sun and heat with our best duds on, dancing to Kurdish music, against a backdrop of stunning mountains. Wow! I love this place.
A Kurdish wedding can be summed up quite easily -- lots of dancing!
Now, we'll see if the big, fat Greek wedding can compare.
O.K. make sure not to smile. It's a Kurdish custom.
The scenary was just stunning, yet truth be told the boys did get pretty bored as the time wore on...
So, we'll finally get to answer the age old question in the coming weeks: which is better a Kurdish wedding or a Greek one? Tune in next week!
Halgurd Mountain
Well, since all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, we decided we'd tackle Iraq's tallest peak, Halgurd Mountain. We all knew the name and the way locals spoke it with reverence, but with our recent trip to a thrice bombed village the famed mountain finally came into view (that which was not covered by clouds that is), and it took our breathes away.
A friend of ours who had recently made the trek agreed to take another ascent and, boy, were we excited!
My nephew, Jake, and his friend, Kevin, we're leaving the next day after having spent a month with us to return to America, and we wanted to make sure they had had the full Iraqi experience.
Well, we left the house at 6am and didn't return again till after 9 that night. It was a day that I won't soon forget.
Luckily, we were able to drive to about 7,000 feet where a tribe of bedouins gracious lent us their walking sticks. What were we thinking of climbing 5,000 feet of mountian without walking sticks? I barely packed a snack.
As we were driving up to our 'base camp' for lack of a better word, the mountain just loomed over us making us wonder, "What are we getting ourselves into?"
Words like "Monster" and "Unfriendly Beast" were muttered as we winded our way up the dirt roads before setting out on foot.
There was no trail on this thing, so without a guide we would have been lost for sure. As we made our ascent there came a moment when the angle became so steep rocks were being let loose by our fumblings causing those below to have to quickly dodge the flying projectiles. One nearly caught me right in the mid section. This was no pleasure hike.
But, it wasn't just all rocks, towards the beginning of the climb we saw beautiful mountain streams and bright yellow flowers. It was gorgeous!
As we were getting closer to the top, Jake kept grasping his head in pain -- the altitude sickness was settling in. Then, a stiff, cool breeze made our previously sweating bodies cringe with the cold.
"Hey, isn't this June, in Iraq for goodness sake?" I was glad I brought my wind breaker along.
As we rounded one last peak, finally the summit came into view as did a blanket of snow and ice on the Halgurd's Northern face.
It wasn't much further, but, Jake couldn't take another step and finally succumbed to the altitude induced headache. We'd have to join back up with him on the way down. We were all pretty well worn out.
But, ever so slowly we mounted the final meters, grasped the summit and took in the view.
Just north of us in the distance, is Iran, we would later learn, just 2.65 miles away.
Since the ascent just wasn't 'cool' enough I thought I'd give "ski booting" a try on the way down. Here is my attempt at staying on two feet of snow and ice at a 40 degree angle. I started to build up so much momentum that I had to break out into a full run to keep from making a facial impact on the mountain.
Four treacherous hours later we neared the bottom of the mountain side as the sun cast the surrounding country into a blissful, golden hue that finished off one long, long day which wouldn't be quite complete without purging oneself of a belly full of snacks on the side of the road as we drove home.
Yea, it was quite a day. Why do we climb mountains again?
June 06, 2011
School Opening Ceremony
Culling through some old videos today, I came across this special one that I'd forgotten to post from last October.
The Mayor invited me to this Opening Ceremony of a new Magnetic School in our area. It was actually funded by the U.S. Reconstruction Team, so the acting U.S. 'Consul' attended as well along with his full entrouage.
Not realizing what I was getting into I just tried to stick close to the Mayor, but eventually got separated from him in the fan fare. Walking into the open courtyard of the school, the Mayor spiied me and ushered me to sit right by him, on the front row. Of course, there were television cameras all around, because it was perhaps one of the biggest affairs of the year.
All the while, I kept thinking, why am I sitting here on the front row where all the cameras train their lenses? Oh, well. I'm sure I was all over the news that night, and folks wondering, "Hey, who's the American sitting so prominently?"
The next day, I went by the Mayor's office for some reason. Oddly enough, that day wasn't too busy for him, so after everyone had cleared out of his office he sat down next to me and said, "Billy, you're my best friend. Whenever we have events like we had yesterday, I want you to be right there with me."
Well, what do you say to that?
Witnessing the Beauty of Kurdistan
Back in early March, we learned that we would have to extend our stay in the States unexpectedly. At the time, the only thing I could think of, was, "But, we'll miss the spring of Kurdistan!"
Let me tell you, when you live in a land where the desert isn't too far away, you really count your blessings when the spring rains fall.
This land erupts into stunning beauty for a couple of months each year, then is plunged again into the browns and yellows that generally characterize one's view of Iraq.
So, learning that we'd have to return just has the green hills were fading of their color was not what I wanted to hear.
Fortunately, spring had a different story this year as weather around the world went, well just plain screwy. It rained, and it rained, and it rained.
It rained so hard this year that new springs and waterfalls sprung up, rivers that had lain dry for years flowed again with living water. It was amazing.
Two years ago, I remember the grass whithering and dying by early May, but this year was different.
When we finally got back to Kurdistan on May 3rd, the grass was still green and the hills were still drapped in their full colors. But, surely, it won't last long we thought.
And now, we're into the beginning of June and the rains have not abated, nor has the brilliant green on the mountain tops. It's been a strange year, weather-wise, for the whole world, and Kurdistan was not left out either.
I'm so thankful for nature. The year can be long, hot, and hard in Northern Iraq without being able to enjoy the colors of spring, so God just extended the season a bit for us this time. It's been such a blessing.
Here are a few pics of our region and a hiking trip that I went on with my nephew, Jake, and his friend Kevin. Enjoy
Below ... this pic was taken as a hailstorm was plowing across our valley.
then, a few days later a dust storm...
can you believe the difference? And we're at 2,300 feet above sea level -- we're not supposed to get dust storms at this altitude are we?
Then, we went on a hike on a mountain called Bradost -
From hailstorms to duststorms to mountain highs and valley lows, we love living here in Kurdistan! Thank you, Lord, for the rain.
