Saturday, November 24, 2012

The Muslim Women I Met


“Each day of our life is a gift from our merciful God to realize that we are still alive to give Him our grateful thanks and try to discover new things to keep our universe sacred with a long lasting shiny light.” - Kanar (my fellow delegate and dear friend)

         One of the first things I noticed being in Turkey and Iraq is that not all women wear headscarves. When I read Baghdad Burning the author talked about how she considered herself a devout Muslim but made the personal choice not to wear a headscarf with exception of when entering a mosque. This was true of most of women I befriended on my trip. When someone brought up the fact and asked why they did not cover their heads, most would answer that Iraq is not Iran. However, there were still plenty (well over half the population of women) who did wear a head scarf or even the full burqa. However, although it would seem that women in Turkey and Iraq have more freedom by not being legally required to wear a veil, many expressed feeling the same oppressions of patriarchy.
          As I listened to the discussion, the women talked about how they felt oppressed. They talked about how the system of patriarchy started back during the hunter/gatherer period when women had to take care of the children while the men hunted. The men controlled the economic system and this patriarchal system has continued until today. The men have power and women can only act in the ways and borders that men define. My one friend discussed being a woman in the society was like being a bird within a birdcage. Turkey and Iraq might seem more free but they still operated under the same patriarchal systems. 
          However, these women do not blame Islam as the source of this patriarchy. Indeed, the women I encountered were some of the most Godly women I have ever met. They have such a high respect for God and the Koran and would talk so openly about their love for God. They did not find Muslim traditions and rules as suffocating or tedious, but rather found joy in their religion and the ways they could show their love and devotion to the God they worshipped. I was inspired by their faith and commitment. 
         Over and over again I heard how the myths about Islam and women were simply not true. One woman activist we met with talked about her work dealing with FGM (female genital mutilation) and honor killings. FGM has traditionally been viewed as part of Islam, although it does not come from the Koran, but rather earlier traditions. The activist discussed her work talking to local mullahs and trying to gain their support. Many mullahs agree with the activists that FGM is not Islamic or even healthy, but fear speaking out for the sake of their reputation. Most mullahs also condemn honor killings in society and many like the mullah I met, speak actively out against all types of violence and oppression. 
          And women in the culture are slowly finding their voice. I learned about how women are now becoming organized and in Turkey, are a key force in the Kurdish movement. More than 1000 women are in prison there with 25 taking part in the hunger strikes. Women are coming together in solidarity to act against the male-dominated system. In Iraq, women are working to let other women know their rights and educating a whole society. I was so inspired by all the women I came across who are letting their voices be heard and standing up for what they believe in. And these are the voices I want others to hear and know. 
          Below is the painting I have been working on. Although the original painting is from one of the missions in San Antonio, I felt like it could also be a mosque. I wanted to portray a Muslim women sitting in awe and love of her God. She is not oppressed but rather freed by the light and in total peace with herself as she sits in reverence. This is the faith I experienced from the Muslim women I met, and the faith I want to have. 
         
         

Friday, November 23, 2012

Social Change Project Introduction

         I am currently sitting in Common Grounds Coffeehouse in Bluffton, Ohio trying to get some homework done over Thanksgiving Break. This past week has been extremely busy as I have traveled over 2,000 miles, spending 35 hours in my car, and seeing 8 different states. Last weekend I traveled to Columbus, Georgia, for the annual SOA protest with six other students from EMU. I then drove home to Pandora on Monday for Thanksgiving Break. Wednesday I went to Detroit, Michigan for a concert with a good friend and am now spending some time relaxing and catching up on my to-do list. At the end of the semester, this to-do list gets very long. One of the items on my to-do list is my social change project for my Race and Gender class. I volunteered to go first next Thursday, so that means I really need to start working on it. The assignment is focus on the following questions and coming up with some sort of project:

"What issues are likely to shape your personal life, your community, academic and public discourses in this field in the coming decades?   What can you do or propose as a way of moving ahead in the areas of race and/or gender?

 This final presentation is an opportunity for creative expression.  It’s your space for looking ahead, taking action, reshaping policy and institutions, “doing something” tangible.  WHAT will be your contribution to changing society?"

My professor suggested to me from the beginning of the semester that I focus my project on something I learned while in Kurdistan. While I was over in Turkey and Iraq, I tried to look for ways in which race and gender played roles in that society and how they were different from my own culture, and especially how they were different than my own expectations. While racial issues existed in Kurdistan, I was more interested in gender roles and especially the roles women play in society.
        
          During the trip, I had a lot of interactions with Kurdish women and was able to hear some of their experiences living in the society they do. I believe that with our changing world and the spread of globalization, the issue of women within Islam is extremely important and especially in my own life as I hope to travel back to the Middle East after graduation and work within that culture. My contribution to this field and my way of moving ahead is telling some of the stories I heard from the women who have changed my life. By telling their stories on this blog and in presentations I do, I hope to little by little influence and change the way society today views Muslim women. Another part of my project includes expressing these stories through art. I have been working on a couple of paintings recently that give a glimpse of the beauty and peace of Islam, a glimpse that is not often seen in today's society. I hope to take these paintings with me to the places where I live and work and to be able to share the stories of peace and hope expressed in the art. 

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Some of my artwork.

This is my first painting I did for my restorative justice class. I wrote the following about it:
 "Restorative justice to me represents hope; hope that a broken system can be fixed, hope that broken relationships can be made right, and hope that the oppressed can be set free. Throughout this semester, as I have studied RJ and trauma awareness, I have felt hopeful about the work being done in the world and the progress the discipline is maki
ng. Our time at the Grateford Prison also filled me with hope; hope in humanity, that good people exist in every part of the world and are able to remain hopeful despite horrendous circumstances.

The birds in my painting represent this hope that exists. One of the inmates read a poem while in Graterford that inspired my painting and my life. The poem by Emily Dickinson goes, "hope is the thing with feathers that perches on the soul, and sings the tune-without the words, and never stops at all. And sweetest in the gale is heard; and sore must be the storm that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chillest land, and on the strangest sea; yet, never, in extremity, it asked a crumb of me."
This is one the paintings I copied this summer. I just love the colors and rainy day atmosphere.



Here is one of the collages I made for my friend Anna. She loves to travel so I wanted to include pictures of places that looked exciting and inspiring. They represent just part of the infinite abyss.
This is the special collage I made for my dad. He loves cars, so I collected some of his old car magazines and created this. I have to admit that it has been one of my favorite collages. 

I even added artwork to my room. These are my closet doors in my bedroom. I first drew the tree in with pencil, before taking black paint.

I painted this the night of Hurricane Sandy. It is based on a picture of the mountains in Kurdistan and the great beauty that encountered there.

Art: My connection with God

          This past week has included a lot of thinking and sleeping on my part. My emotions have been up and down and thus two things have happened: I have been sleeping more than usual and painting. Although I feel I have always been artistic, I never was involved in art in high school with the exception of 2-D art freshman year. My family never went to art museums and I worked more on crafts than I did art. However, this has changed a lot since coming to college. For some reason I started collaging. I love to cut up magazines and create posters to hang up. I have actually made quite a few and given them to close friends. I found that cutting magazines was relaxing for me and then finding the perfect way to put images together was like a puzzle. At first my dad thought I was crazy for spending my Christmas vacations cutting magazines, but when the collages come together even he could see the uniqueness in the art. I even made him his own special collage this summer, which he hung in his office.
          I also have begun to visit art museums. I discovered on a field trip my first year of college that I really like looking at paintings, especially more modern art. Somehow the art seemed to speak to me in a way that I did not understand, but was eager for more. My summer in San Antonio was significant in my life and can be characterized by my first visit to the San Antonio Museum of Art. The trip was in the middle of my time there and I had been struggling with my faith and who God is. And somehow in that museum, in the midst of the art and especially the paintings I had somewhat of a revelation. I wrote in my journal that day the following;
         "I fell in love today... at the San Antonio Museum of Art. The art struck a cord in me and I felt like I was seeing everything. The history, the beauty, all the people of the world. I found God. Because God is different than the God I was first introduced to. This God is bigger, more magnificent, and more personal than the God I once knew. This God is everywhere, in everything. This God is one of beauty, history, and all the people of the world. No one can claim this God. But am I a Christian? Yes, because Christian theology points to this God. The church is God's chosen people to show the beuaty to the world. Is Jesus the only way? I don't know... probably not, but Jesus is a human example of how to live one's life in a truly meaningful life. But above all, God is love- life truly lived is an outpouring of love. Love does not mean life will be easy or happy and often there is still tragedy. But this love consumes you and frees you all at once."
          That day I spent hours just sitting on the floor of the museum being filled with art and God. I went back there at least once more that summer to just sit and pray. And so art became intimately connected with God. During my time in Europe I got to visit a LOT of art museums. Being with a group and having to pay attention to specifics in the art work did not bring about the same feelings. However, during each visit, I tried to find a moment alone in the museums to seek out a piece I liked and say a prayer and just sit a moment to take it in.
          I was inspired to start painting myself last spring. I have never learned how to paint and never owned a canvas, but wanted to do something special for my restorative justice project. And somehow holding a paintbrush in my hand just felt right. This summer I bought more canvas and craft paint and copied some paintings that really inspired me. The more I painted, the more I fell in love with it. Especially after a hard spring semester, painting seemed to be a way for me to just relax, be myself, and connect with God without saying any words. I brought my painting supplies to school this semester and during the times when I find myself sinking into depression, I bring them out and start working. I mostly just copy paintings I find inspiring. I still don't know anything about painting, but it feels so natural and I find my stress melting away with every stroke.
          I did not plan to write about art today, but this blog post just kind of came out. I do not know how or if art will play a part in my future, but right now art is my way of talking with God. Art is my way of dealing with life when I feel myself at the edge of a cliff. In art I find joy. In art I find beauty. And somehow the world begins to make sense again.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

The end of my delegation

          Well I am finally coming to end of my crazy days of blog posting. Please let me know if anyone actually read all of the posts... I would love to know who my avid readers really are! But anyways, I really wanted to leave some stories and background for those who have been a part of my life journey and were curious to know. I did not tell every single story, but I am sure many more will come out as I continue to reflect on this life-changing experience. For anyone who is curious about anything I have written, please leave a comment or shoot me an email at julias.nicole@gmail.com. I would really love to hear from you!
         So my last night in Suli was spent packing and a little crying. I cried because I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to leave that place where I felt at home. I didn't want to think about the possibility that I might never see it again. However I got through the next morning's closing worship and was taken to the airport to fly back to Istanbul for the night before flying back to the US the next day. I hated that night in Istanbul. I really wanted to enjoy exploring a new city full of history, but all I wanted to do was get out. I felt so empty after leaving Iraq and could not wait to leave the touristy area of Istanbul and just be home. 
         The flight back was really good for me. I was a mess when I boarded and even just reading back through my journal from the plane ride, you can tell the ups and downs of my emotions. I wrote near the beginning of the flight, "Honestly, I am scared to be back. I feel so different and I have no desire to be back. I don't know how to interact with people or what to say when people ask about my trip. Right now I just want to cry when I think about it. But this could also be my tiredness acting."
          But by the end of the flight I was feeling much better. My ending words from my journal sum up a lot of how I am feeling now as I work on processing and beginning to tell my story.

"Now is not the time to go into depression because I miss Iraq and heard a lot of heavy things. I need to look at the positive.... I learned so much and met some amazing people. I was entrusted with sacred stories and I now get to share theses with others. I learned more about myself and the world. I saw the best of humanity and am changed because of it. I need to keep focusing on the positive and like the mullah, I need to be at peace with myself and my actions and always be looking for the blessings of life."

Last full day in Iraqi Kurdistan

          The next morning it was my turn to lead the morning worship. During the trip, everyone got a chance to lead worship and everyone chose a different way to do so. I began mine by reading my blog post from a year ago. I had been in Europe and had been in a really bad place back then, deep in the midst of depression. My mom had sent me a prayer titled Gentle My Desperation that I posted on my blog (http://julia-exploringtheinfiniteabyss.blogspot.com/2011/10/gentle-my-desperation.html). I read this post and prayer to my delegation and asked them how they respond when they see the world at its worst. Others shared about their own feelings and how they too questioned where was God. It was in the midst of our shared brokenness, that I saw hope and I saw God. God was there in the midst of pain. God was there in our togetherness. God was there.
         The rest of the morning and early afternoon (with the exception of another meeting) was spent working on the press release. I posted this press release on my blog a couple of weeks ago. However, I did not say all the work that went into it. I wrote the release myself after input with several other delegates. We then as a group went through the release paragraph by paragraph to agree on the final wording and ideas. I have to admit that it was tough to handle the criticism of my work, but it was also very rewarding to come up together with a statement that the entire group could stand by.
         The meeting we had was with a women's activist. She presented us with a lot of information about FGM (female genital mutilation) as well as honor killings and the shelters set up in Kurdistan to help women. She gave us a lot of information, and in some later blog post, I hope to say more about the subject, especially since getting back I have had to read a book for my History of Middle East class on the subject of women in the Middle East. The meeting left me somewhat depressed for I had never realized the severity of the situation and exactly what was happening in that area to women because of long-held traditions. However, the woman we met with was a breath of fresh air as we heard her passion to help women and working hard to make Kurdistan a better place.
         In the afternoon, we went to the Culture Cafe in Suli for our press conference. I read the statement with a translator, then others in the group answered the press' question. Oh, we also ended with a song translated to English, as "Grant us peace." After the press conference I went with three other delegates back to the baazar. I loved this shopping trip! I bought scarves, spices, a teapot, and small gifts fro friends. On the taxi ride back we sang "I'm a little teapot" to the taxi drive. We were just being crazy and it felt so good. We then got into my friend Kanar's Mustang, put the top down and drove around Sulaimani in the dark singing Celine Dion. It was the perfect ending to a great trip. 

The Hardest Day (Part 2)

          The day continued after lunch by visiting a local museum in Suli. This was not a normal museum, but an old prison where Saddam Hussein had dissenters tortured and raped. The prison opened in 1986 and closed in 1991. I have never been to the Holocaust museum or visited a concentration camp, but I think the experience would have been similar. As we walked around the different rooms of the prison, our tour guide explained a little of how the prisoners were treated. What was even more powerful was a man who came up and had the tour guide translate how he had been held in the prison. It was really hard to be in that space. It was hard to see the holes in the wall where prisoners had their hands nailed. It was hard seeing the blood stains. It was hard seeing the man show others of how crowded the prison was. It was hard hearing the stories of women being raped.
          At the end of the tour we entered an exhibit of a long room covered with small pieces of mirror and tiny white lights. Each piece of mirror represented one Kurd killed during Saddam Hussein's reign. Each light represented one Kurdish village destroyed. I don't remember the exact numbers, but the room seemed to go on forever. There were hundreds of thousands of pieces of glass and at least four thousand lights. After the official tour we went as a group to a basement room where there was a separate exhibit showing pictures from Halabja, the city in Eastern Iraq where Saddam had used a chemical attack to kill 4000-5000 civilians, most women and children. For more information on the Kurdish genocide visit http://wn.com/the_anfal_museum/biography.
          We met as a group to try to process what we had just witnessed at a nearby park. I am struggling to find the words to describe how I was affected. After experiencing something like that, words are hard to come by. I kept just replaying the line to my favorite Mumford and Sons song in my head... "Give me hope in the darkness that we will see a light. Because oh they gave me such a fright. But I will hold on as long as you like, just promise me we'll be alright."
          The day was long from being over, though. We next spent hour at the downtown Baazar before getting in taxis to meet go to the homes of the families of those killed in the demonstrations. The following is my journal excerpt about the experience.
       
          "One family (mother, father and two young girls) drove almost an hour to be with us. They met us at the house of another family's (father). Those two killed had been ages 11 and 6 months and thirteen. Hearing their stories and seeing their tears was really hard. I began to tear up and it was all I could do not to break down crying. And they were so glad that we wanted to hear their story and be willing to tell others. They even invited us to dinner. I felt so humble and unworthy. The mom of the youngest son told us of her desire to leave Kurdistan because the government does not care about her son's death and trying them to be quiet. The government has been trying to work out a private negotiation instead of acknowledging their part in his death. The families are refusing these private negotiations and working towards legal justice even though they might need the money and it is dangerous to speak out against the government. The mother was scared that they would kidnap their daughter in exchange for their silence.  The second house we visited, the victim had been 28 and working to build a home for himself and his fiance. After his death his mother went crazy for three months. Their house is full of pictures of him and they live in mourning everyday. I felt so bad for the other sons (one of which looked around my age).; not only did they have to deal with their brother's death and their own grief, but it seemed they now permanently live in their parent's grief. The parents told us that they can't move on and think about their son all the time.  In the car afterward, I prayed, truly prayed for the son around my age. I prayed that he would be able to find life after his brother's death and find joy in life despite all that has happened."

I have not lost someone close to me and I have no idea what it is like to lose a child. But just remembering the parent's tears brings me to tears. It also brings questions... Where was God? Where was God when that eleven year old boy ended up at the demonstration? Where was God when Saddam Hussein began his genocide against the Kurdish people? 

Where, oh where was God?

The Hardest Day (Part 1)

          The last Sunday of my trip was the hardest day I experienced on the trip. The entire day was full of meetings and experiences that ripped a hole through my heart. Even now, weeks later, I can still feel the intensity of that day and I am only beginning to realize the impact it will have on the rest of my life. On that day I saw the worst of what humanity can be. But more importantly I saw the hope that exists within a broken community and within the Kurds who have devoted their lives for the cause of peace.
          In the morning a local mullah (Islamic leader) came to tell us about the Arab Spring demonstration that occurred in early 2011. He explained to us how the KRG (Kurdish Regional Government) has the same system as is familiar all around the Middle East. The government claims to be a democracy, but during the elections there were many pressures against the people and the government is extremely unjust. And so the people began to protest.
          The mullah told us how he believes the Islamic faith calls for an end in oppression and his role is to advise others to speak out against oppressions and encourage people to not use violence. He wants Muslims to be the best human beings they can. He believes that Muslims must not harass non-Muslims, other religions or secularists, but work against all oppressions. This is the reason why he joined the demonstrations to speak out against the government and call for a jihad of peace. He wanted to help the Kurdish people peacefully encourage the authorities to have better government. And the protests were for the most part very peaceful. Guns are very prevalent in Iraq, but at no point did the people use any weapons other than stones against the authorities.
          However, the authorities then used weapons to end the demonstrations. More than 47 people were injured and 10 died in the region. Hundreds were arrested including the mullah. In his case, he as first attacked in his house, kidnapped, and tortured for two days before being released. He was then arrested legally and tried for acts of terrorism. Under this sentence, he faced anywhere from fifteen years in prison to execution. However, they eventually listened to his speeches and found out that he never encouraged anyone to use violence.
          The demonstrations ended after a few months because the people wanted an end to the killings. However, the oppression and injustice from the government has continued. The amazing part of this story is that the mullah did not focus on the bad... he did not seem angry that nothing changed or that he was tortured and tried for acts of terrorism by the government. Instead, he told us of the good that came out of the demonstrations. He told us how the people have so much more respect now for religion and the role it played in the demonstrations. He told us how the religious and secularists worked together and have formed good relationships with each other.
           The mullah told us that he believes at some point the people will speak up again. And when they do, he is ready to suffer to help his people. He hopes that the next demonstrations will be more peaceful, but if they are not, he is ready to die. I was blown away by his faith and commitment to nonviolence. He showed me more of what it means to live an authentic life than anyone else I have ever met. Through his words and actions, even though he is Muslim, he showed me how to live as Christ. 

Sulaimani and Hawler

          Sulaimani is the city where CPT is headquartered and we stayed in the CPT house for the rest of our time in Kurdistan. I wrote in my journal that first night, "It is weird being in a city. I have to admit that there is a huge part of me that already misses the villages and the mountains. You can see the mountains but it is not the same. However, as one of my fellow delegates pointed out, I could just as easily fall in love with the city." This turned out to be true. Even though Sulaimani looks so different from the rural villages we came from, the hospitality of everyone I met was the same.
          Our first full day in the city was relatively uneventful. The morning was free time, which I spent catching up on my journaling and checking my email. In the afternoon we had a long debrief about the first part of our trip. Then a long time friend and colleague of CPT came to talk about the current political situation in the city/country. We learned about the demonstrations that took place last year during the Arab Spring. We also learned of some of the actions the CPT team has taken. That evening we went to dinner at Kanar's (the delegate actually from Sulaimani). Her house was absolutely gorgeous and the food AMAZING! It was such a great time relaxing with the delegation and enjoying one of the last days in Kurdistan.
          The next day we got up at 5am in order to leave for Hawler by 5:30. I slept the first hour then we stopped for breakfast. It was extremely interesting because we drove through Kirkuk, which is only partly in Kurdistan. The security check point after Kirkuk was difficult because they were worried about letting in terrorists (Kirkuk has a lot of car bombings... 11 people died there only two days after we drove through). I do not believe I have mentioned the check points. All across the KRG region of Iraq are check points that we have to pass through. A lot the driver would just say something to the soldier and we would go on. A lot of the check points knew the CPT team and it was no problem to get where we wanted to go. Although the check points are not nearly as intense as I have heard they are in Israel/Palestine, they served as a reminder that I was not in Colorado, but an area that has seen a lot of conflict and government tries maintain a lot of control.
          Right before we got to Hawler, we found out that the Archbishop whom we were driving there to meet had only scheduled us for a half hour and since we were late, we were not able to meet with him. Instead, we met with the MCC representative for Iraq and learned about MCC's work in Kurdistan as well as the minority groups that live there. The afternoon was spent in the city center where we had the best falafel of my life (no joke) and then explored the citadel, which is claimed to be the oldest continuously inhabited town in the world. I loved this part of the trip and exploring the thousand of years of history and climbing around! I was right in my element!! We then drove back to Suli that night for dinner. 

Monday, November 5, 2012

Mountain villages

          Although I truly loved my time in the villages of Kurdistan, we heard some pretty hard stories. The afternoon before we spent the night at Kani Spi we visited a cemetery in the Barzan region. During Saddam Hussein's reign 5000-6000 men from the region were taken to the south, tortured, then murdered and put into mass graves. It is my understanding that only in the past couple of years they have brought the bodies back and created the cemetery we visited. My group had a worship session at the cemetery, which was really powerful.
          During our time in Kani Spi we learned how they fear attacks from Iran and especially Turkey. Iran and Turkey in the last twenty years have been bombing the border villages on a semi-regular basis. We would learn more about this situation as we visited a mayor in another region on the border of both Turkey and Iran, and visiting a school in Sunneh, near Iran. Kani Spi actually lies within three miles of the Iranian border and we could clearly see three Iranian military bases on the mountains overlooking the bases. Kani Spi also lies near a mine field that was planted during the Iraq-Iran war. Many people in the village have been killed as well as severely injured because of mines. We were warned to not go wandering too far from the road because of the danger of land mines.
         The mayor we met with was very excited to have an international delegation come visit and learn about the situation. He had invited the press to come and indeed there were a lot of men with cameras to record our time with the mayor, as well to a camp the local government had set up for internally displaced people. Last summer a lot of villages had been displaced to the camp and had to put up with some bad conditions as winter set in. However, now they have built new trailers that are really nice. This summer there were no bombings, so luckily the new camp has not been used. We can only pray that it will stay this way! But bombings are still a problem, especially from Turkey. A few days before we got there, one village in this region had its water supply bombed. The meeting with the mayor was really informative and our quickly put-together press conference went well. We made the news all over Kurdistan! Here is a link to one of the news stories...it is in Kurdish but still exciting. http://www.kurdistantv.net/default1.aspx?page=articles&c=news&id=94605
          That night we stayed at a cultural center in the city of Rania. It was a nice place to stay and got to talk with some of the workers of the center, one who has visited EMU before! The next day we headed to the village of Sunneh, where we visited a school. We first met with the principle and teachers who told us of how the school operated even after severe bombings and shellings from Iran and the the entire village went to an internally displaced people's camp where the conditions were terrible! The story of the village and amazing people and teachers was incredible to hear. The town has been shelled so often although thankfully not this year. We then went to one of the villager's house for a great lunch and to hear his story. We got to go on his roof and see the places where shells had hit. After seeing his field we went back to the school and interacted with the children. This was a highlight of the trip! They were all so cute and we had fun singing songs and being silly with them. I would really encourage everyone to watch CPT's video about the village at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sf5paHI-U_E We then drove back to Rania for a short concert by some students at the cultural center before heading to Sulaimani. 

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Traveling into Iraqi Kurdistan... traveling home


"Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life." - John Muir

         
          Remember this summer when I wrote that in the mountains in Colorado, I felt like I was home. Even though I have never lived in Colorado, when I am up in the mountains I have this overwhelming sense of peace and inner knowledge that I am at home. (Exploring Colorado) Well, as I traveled farther into Iraqi Kurdistan, I got that same feeling. Northern Iraq is extremely mountainous and tall, beautiful mountains like Colorado. The beauty I witnessed still gives me goose bumps when I look at the pictures. As we traveled into the border region of Iraqi Kurdistan, Iran, and Turkey, I felt strangely like I was home. I had never been there before, but just felt this overwhelming sense that I was exactly where I was meant to be.
          I know the mountains played their part in giving me this feeling, but another big factor was the people. All the Kurdish people I encountered on my trip were just so beautiful and loving. I have never experienced such extreme hospitality than what I received in Kurdistan. Even when entering the country, a police officer had to check our passports, but he then apologized for having to do so and welcomed us and gave us a blessing! The first night we stayed at a hotel, but the second night in Iraqi Kurdistan, we stayed with a family in the village of Kani Spi near the Iranian border. Here, one of the families welcomed us into their home and cooked us a delicious meal! We then entered into a time of conversation. This conversation went in many directions, from the history of the village to international politics. I was pretty tired that night and because of translation problems, did not get a lot of what was said. However, one of the village girls seemed to understand my confusion and would smile at me with a knowing look. It is that smile that made me feel right at home. It is that smile that I will remember long after other memories fade.
          We spent the night in the family's house and took a tour of the village, its spring, and the surrounding fields in the morning. The crisp mountain air was so refreshing as we climbed around the rocks and enjoyed our last moments of Kani Spi. I will write in my next posts more about the reason why we visited Kani Spi and spent time in the villages, but I will leave you now with some of the pictures taken by a couple of my delegation teammates so you can understand a little of the beauty I am talking about.






Turkish Beginnings (Part 2)

          I meant to post this the day after my last one, but life has gotten into the way. This past week has been extremely busy as I have finally caught up on school work, attended many Spiritual Life week events, had a awareness day for Congo and gathering student signatures in support of our resolution, skyping with dear friends, visiting my cousin Cara in Washington D.C. and much more. So now I want to go back a few weeks and write about my time in Turkey.
          My group successfully made our way across Istanbul by tram, ferry, foot, and bus to the local Istanbul airport and got on our flight to Diyarbakir, Turkey in the southeastern part of the country. Diyarbakir is a large city of over a million people and felt much more Middle Eastern than the European city of Istanbul. The city had a much more authentic, traditional feel to it than Istanbul. Three members of the CPT team, along with a Kurdish delegate member met us in Diyarbakir, where we first had a time of introductions before dinner and a meeting with a local organization.
          So first I need to write a little about the situation of Kurds living in Turkey. This information comes from the people we met while in Diyarbakir, as well as some news sources I have come across. There as been an armed struggle between the Kurdish and Turkish government for the last 30 years, which has included 3,000-5,000 Kurdish villages being emptied, as well as countless lives lost, economic sanctions, and much more. One of the main complaints of the Kurdish people living in Turkey is that they want to teach their children in their native language, but are not allowed. School systems are now offering Kurdish as a second language, but only giving children the chance to speak it a couple hours a week. The harsh conditions against the Kurds in Turkey have led many to protest. However, speaking out for the Kurdish cause can lead to arrest. Since 2009, 10,000 people have been put in prison for working for the Kurdish cause.  I would encourage you to read about the local hunger strike going on in the prisons and the protests it is causing. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-20138995 and http://www.bianet.org/english/human-rights/141611-a-scream-of-self-inflicted-pain
          The local organization we met with was working on behalf the children who had been displaced. When villages are emptied, the people move to the cities to try to find work. However, work is hard to come by and it seems to be the children who suffer most. We saw many children out on the street begging during our time in Diyarbakir. The organization then tries to help children deal with conflict and create centers for the children.
          The next morning we met over a delicious Turkish brunch with a social worker is facing 18 years in prison. She told us a lot of the horrible situation in Turkey and her own views on the Turkish government, as well as feminism and other topics. I was just amazed at her story and her humbleness as well as hope. She did not want us to use her name when telling her story because her story is not unusual...she is just one of many facing prison, but she was lucky enough to be waiting trial outside of prison instead of inside so she was able to meet with us and tell us her story. She really was an amazing person who believed it was her duty to work for her people and their rights despite of the terrible consequences she faces. I felt so blessed to have been able to interact with her and learn from her.
          The rest of the day was spent exploring the city walls of Diyarbakir, looking out towards the Tigris River (the birthplace of civilization!), playing with kids on the streets, and eating amazing food  while getting to know the people in my delegation. The next day was spent traveling by a public bus (really nice bus I must say) along the Syrian border to begin the next phase of our journey into Iraqi Kurdistan.