A good book

On a cold winter’s day

When you’re ready to slip away

From this ordinary place

Into imaginary space

Set your mind free

With a cup of tea

In your own cozy and warm bed

Ready to take the next step

Pick up a book and read the words

Let go of all your concerns

The story will take you there

And you’ll be walking on air

It’s the magic of a writer

Who can be an overnighter

But when you’re too tired to stay up

Close your eyes and walk through

A dream where only books can take you

Hawler

30/12/2013

Friesland versus Kurdistan

On one sunny day I was enjoying my very Dutch croquette in the snack bar around the corner of our house when a tall man walked in and ordered something for himself and his family. The man looked old and tired. The young girl behind the bar listened to his order but I noticed that she hadn’t written down anything. After the old man mentioned everything he wanted to order, she smiled and asked the man, in Dutch, if he could repeat what he said but this time in Dutch. I left my croquette for what it was because I didn’t want to miss this. My eyes turned to these people, my ears only wanted to hear their conversation. I leaned forward because this was going to be interesting. I saw something in the eyes of that man, something I’ve seen before but somewhere far away. He was a fighter, this man was furious at the young lady. He answered loudly: “You are here in Friesland, you should learn Frisian. I am not going to change my language because you cannot understand me. Now go get someone who speaks Frisian.” And deep down I felt sympathy and love for this man. He was one of the few Frisians I had come across to in those 20 years who still fought for their independence or difference. He reminded me of us, of Kurds.

There are two languages in the Netherlands: Dutch and Frisian. The Frisian language is the only minority language that has been recognized under part III of the European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages. What this means is that the Netherlands is obliged to take certain actions in order to foster this minority language. There are different methods to promote the language; one of them is by means of education and since 1980 Frisian Language has been a compulsory subject for primary school pupils in the province of Friesland. Unfortunately, our language, Kurdish, is still not a compulsory subject in some parts of Kurdistan.

The history of the Frisians starts around the 6^th century BC. It can be said that a justified termination of this history is in 1813 when Friesland like all other regions becomes a province of the newly formed Kingdom of the Netherlands. Until today Friesland tries to preserve and promote its language, culture and identity but Frisian developments can only take place within the framework of the Dutch state and are therefore limited. Big decisions are not made in the Capital of Friesland Leeuwarden but in The Hague. Big decisions are not made in the Capital of Southern Kurdistan Erbil but in Baghdad and only within the framework of.. Exactly.





The Frisians have their own flag and their own national anthem. They have their own bank, T.V and radio stations. Frisian horses and cows are very popular and even their sports are well known.




 The reason why Friesland isn’t a state? Well, there are some historians who believe that it’s the fault of many Frisians who weren’t patriotic enough in 1813. This reminds me of the Treaty of Sèvres where there was an initial agreement on the boundaries of a Kurdistan but which was rejected by Kurds.

There are so many similarities between Frisians and Kurds, Friesland and Kurdistan. I’m delighted that I had a chance to grow up among them. I learned so much from their rebellious way of thinking. I vote for an independent Friesland and an independent Kurdistan because in the end; Bûter, brea en griene tsiis, wa't dat net sizze kin, is gjin oprjochte Fries.

 

The angel looking face elections

On almost every street corner in the city you will come across a smiling face. Eyes staring at you, some with a unibrow and some with too much make up on. One wears traditional Kurdish clothes; others wear suits and a few try to do it very well; a poster in which they appear with a suit on and one with traditional Kurdish clothes. The streets have been decorated with flags in many different colors; each color representing a party. If I had not known better I would almost think that there is a party every night in this town.

The elections are coming up. The citizens may choose someone who will represent them in the Parliament. The only question is, how do you choose someone if the substantive issues they stand for are not clear? It seems as if the most important thing is ‘which face will lead me’ and not ‘what will happen to my country?’

But I was still curious to know how everyone would vote. I was wondering if they would merely rely on appearance or would they vote for someone they know. Maybe some have even looked into the substantive issues of all those faces. So, the last couple of days i got some hilarious and astonishing answers.

A family member told me that the whole city of Duhok was looking for that angel face. How come no one had noticed her before? They were speculating that she is an inhabitant of that city and he said; I think every man of that city will give his vote to her.

To be honest, I cannot remember who got my vote the previous elections. I think I gave my vote to someone who had a likeable face .I thought I had not engrossed myself in the whole decision-making process. But I know now that it’s very difficult to know what or where representatives of a political party stand for. Thus, electors vote for a random candidate of a political party rather for an individual candidate.

Now that I know that most people do what I’ve done the previous elections, I’m not sure whether I should repeat my actions or not. I would like to give my vote to someone who wants to plant more trees and reduce the number of cars. I like to give my vote to someone that wants to work on improving public transportation; a subway, trams, trains etc. Someone who has thought about a central connection of gas that reaches every home. That person must also stand for an independent Kurdistan of course. Though I have many more points to add but I’m not sure if I will ever find that candidate before the end of the elections.

I’m quite sure that I will choose a good looking face again. The only thing I hope is that this year’s elections will be calm and that it will be as democratic as possible. I hope that if I somehow didn’t manage to go vote they won’t send someone else vote instead of me and I wish every candidate will clean up their faces once the elections are over.

May the ‘best party’ win even though the real winners are flag and poster makers.

Students in Southern Kurdistan

The students who walk into my office the first time are optimistic and full of expectations. They’re hopeful and believe that they will be fluent in English by the end of this course. “Will I be able to speak fluently to foreigners after this course?” is the most common question asked at the first session. Obviously, I wouldn’t teach if I hadn’t thought that others would benefit from the lessons I give. But it’s really hard for me to give a good answer to that question. I honestly don’t believe they will be fluent in English after only four months unless they move to a place like Great Britain or the United States of America of course.

Most of us can speak our native language without any trouble. If the language people use on street, work or anywhere else is not the same as our native language we can, most of the time, easily adopt it. But what happens if you’re not certain which language is your native language? Some linguists argue that someone without a native language will not be able to learn another language properly and will even face difficulties in his or her native language too. This is because they don’t have a language to fall back on. It somehow makes some sense to me.

Southern Kurdistan has tried so hard to abandon the Arabic language as its native language which has caused enormous trouble for Kurdish adults and adolescents. Most of them were in the stage where when they were starting school the lessons were taught in Arabic but then it changed to Kurdish suddenly. They were confused and sometimes still are. Wars and oppression have made it hard for them to learn in a safe environment and some are still paying for it.  Does this mean that they fall under the category of “No language to fall back on?” I think it's better if we say that they haven't had the chance to learn their native language properly and that's why most of them still use Arabic words in Kurdish sentences.

When I explain my grammar lessons to my students they can give me the answers before I have even asked them. Yesterday I had a student who said she wanted the structure otherwise she wouldn’t understand. “SOV (Subject + Object + Verb) please, I don’t follow what you’re saying. I have to memorize the structure before I utter a word.” I was shocked. This is going to be a harder task than I had imagined. I tried to let her know that knowledge of a language is not the same as proficiency in a language.

Will the students who didn't have a chance to learn their native language be able to learn a foreign language? Will they learn a foreign language using a different technique than what they’re used to? Will I be able to help them along the way? Another challenge and I love it.

Shawushka

 

One of Shawushka’s employees knocks on the window of our door. The smile that was on my face, the one from just a minute ago, seems long gone. I always like it when she comes to visit us but today it’s different. I’m nervous and I think we all are. The decision we will make tonight will be a hard one.

As we all gather around the table, she grabs a few papers out of her bag and asks if my mother is sure. I want to tell her that we’re not sure. I wish I could tell her that there is a solution, that there is money, power and dedication from me. I hold still because I know there isn’t and even before I can say something my mother picks up her pen and puts her signature on the papers. “Shawushka isn’t what it used to be.” She says. “We’ve helped female writers in Kurdistan, We had the first Kurdish magazine which was written by women and for women. We held seminars, helped women in need, gave computer and English courses. We were there when others weren’t but now it’s time to let another generation shine. I am sorry that I have to close the doors of Shawushka.”   

Unfortunately, one of my mother’s works, or children, as she likes to call them, will close its doors. To me, and many others, Shawushka wasn’t only a cultural center. Many of my first works were published in Shawushka’s magazine. Ramdom people would recognize me from my articles in Shawushka. Even men would admit that they bought Shawushka because the topics were so good. It was our little baby (which had grown big) NGO.

I’m sorry that it had to end like this. I’m sorry that the person, up there, decided to make it hard for us to keep you open. I’m sorry you had to be the victim of that. I wish all the employees the best. Thank you all for your hard work. I will remember you, Shawushka, with a smile, from ear to ear. You were great.

 

 

A Kurdish revolutionary writer, Hussein Huzni Mukriyani.

 

 

“Shara speaks Shakespearean Kurdish. She doesn’t use any Arabic, Turkish or Farsi words when she speaks Kurdish. Her Kurdish is peti* and if she doesn’t know the word in Kurdish she thinks about it until she remembers.” I am a bit shocked but pleased when my Christian friend next to me explains to an American colleague why he sometimes laughs when I speak Kurdish. I never knew it was because of my Shakespearean Kurdish. I always thought it was my weird, Dutch accent people would laugh about.

I believe I have to thank my parents and grandparents for this. We have some revolutionary Kurdish writers in our family who all fought, with their pens, type machines, printing presses and computers, for the Kurdish cause. In 1915 Hussein Huzni Mukiryani, my grandfather’s brother, bought a new printing press from Germany and invented Kurdish linguistic characters in order to distinguish the Kurdish language from the Arabic one. He was one of the most leading Kurdish writers and journalists; famous for his works. Serving the Kurdish cause back then wasn’t easy. He was threatened with death and imprisoned for several years.

A. M. Hamilton, was a civil engineer from New Zealand, who traveled to this part of Kurdistan to build a road that would stretch from Northern Iraq on to the Iranian border, met Huzni Mukiryani and described him in his book. What he said was;

“Sayed Heusni is not merely an historian, he is also the local journalist and newspaper proprietor. There is a brass notice on his door which reads, Zari Kermanji (The Cry of the Kurdish) which is the name of his paper…
His type is set by hand. From the oak of the mountains – side the cuts small blocks of wood.
He planes them smooth and true and upon them he etches the illustrations for his paper. He inks his plates, turns the primitive printing press, then sets and binds his sheets together to from the monthly magazine. A copy goes to the high Commissioner and another to the league of Nations in Geneva. The Cry of Kurdish is called a “monthly” magazine but often enough the little paper is suppressed on account of its Kurdish sentiments which are not always approved of by the Governments at Baghdad.”

A. M. Hamilton, Road Through Kurdistan. 1937.


On May 25, 1926, the first issue of Zari Kirmanji appeared in Ruwandiz. This Saturday, May 25th, exactly 87 years later, Huzni’s house will be rebuild in Ruwandiz. His house will be a cultural center for youth.

I will certainly be there to support it and to see where my peti Kurdish comes from.
 
*Peti means perfect Kurdish
 

Erbilicious

Just try to imagine this; you and your dear friends are having a lovely dinner in a garden somewhere in Hawler.  It’s spring, Kurdistan is green and you’re not only taking in the scent of delicious food that comes from the table in front of you but you can also smell the beautiful flowers surrounding you. You try to forget about your diet because you cannot leave this food untouched. You try everything that’s in front of you and you think that your day is perfect.

Then the next day, reality hits you, you don’t feel well and you think you got food poisoned.

You forget about all the lovely scents, the view and even the lovely times you had with others because the only thing you can think about is how sick you feel. Could it have been the chicken or the salad, the pizza or the hamburger? You feel so angry and so you boycott that restaurant for the rest of your life, no, maybe for a couple of weeks but you want them to know what happened to you right?

Don’t worry, not all places here are like that. Some of the restaurants do think about hygiene and don’t you even try thinking that this only happens in Kurdistan because on this Dutch TV Program “De Smaak Politie”, I’ve seen some gross and awful kitchens that you don’t even want to know about.

What’s my whole point? Well, I started a restaurant review website. It’s actually the first one here in Hawler and I intend to go to these places to let them know about your experience. You can like the restaurants and rate them.

I started this because I want you to experience everything I mentioned in the first paragraph minus the food poisoning part.
Click here for the website