I cross the border to Iraq, the autonomous region of Kurdistan, to be correct. I understand quickly that I won’t get far with English. The first 10 minutes i just stand there and wait, what am I waiting for ? I really don’t know. But they wont let me pass. A young woman in army clothing turns up who speaks a little english and asks what my plans are. “I come as Tourist and want to see Kurdistan” I answer. She translates to the officer next to her. You can tell she feels a bit proud because she’s the only one of the other five who are men who can speak a little english and is able to communicate with me. I point to my passport and the customs papers. A guard brings me to a building where an officer of the Peshmerga awaits and tries to talk to me in Kurdish. I answer his question sometimes in German, sometimes in English. I do not understand a single word he says. He gets it and points his finger at himself and says his name, then he points to me and shrugs. I think he wants to know my name. “Benjamin“ I say. Now he lists names of cities in Kurdistan, he wants to know which route I will take. „Suliyamania – Dukan – Erbil – Barzan – Dohuk“ He notes something on a small piece of paper and takes a copy of my passport. Again he tries to talk to me in Kurdish, but gives up shortly after. Another soldier takes me back to the car. „Passport, passport!” the man yells as he points with his finger to a building on the right. I guess this means I’ll get my visa there. That’s the way it is! For the Autonomous Region of Kurdistan, there is a free „visa on arrival“ for 30 days. Done!
Almost. I forget to pick up the import papers for my car. It cost $25 for the import and insurance for a car. I managed everything with hardly a word of Kurdish, a few words in English and many hand gestures and nods. Finally, we understand one another.
Well now here I am. Hello Kurdistan! Everything is very green and full of life. In Suliyamania I find a couchsurfing spot, a bit different than usual. I meet Shah, a nice middle-aged guy. He has traveled all around the world and now runs a hotel in Suliyamania. I get my own small room with toilette. I have never been Couchsurfing in a Hotel.
I meet Jeff in the Hotel, he is Canadian and is traveling by motorcycle. Together with Shah we go for Dinner, we come to talk about weapons and somehow it happens that we will meet the next day to shoot AK’s. Jeff is visibly thrilled, he’s a hunter and a gun fool. At the local weapon bazaar, we get ammunition for an AK47, 20 for myself, and 40 for Jeff. No one asks us any questions or wants to see any kind of ID. We drive a outside the city into the mountains. Magazine loaded! Here we go! The 30 rounds per magazine are empty within a few seconds. It was truly something else.
Jeff and I have the same route and continue together. From Suliyamania we drive to Dokan where we found the Dokan Lake. The landscape is beautiful, small but hardy roads lead through the mountains in the north.
Kurds are very proud people, proud of their country, what they have built up, and especially their army: the Peshmerga. Everybody I meet greets me kindly and are always happy to hear that I am from Germany. The Germans have a good reputation in Kurdistan. Over and over I get to hear „your Merkel really good, we like. Your President good” Under the government of Merkel, weapons shipment was sent to Erbil in 2014. To support the fight against the ISIS, Germany delivered over 16,000 rifles, 8000 pistols, 10000 grenades, as well as submachine guns and armored vehicles. Most important of all of this arsenal was the Milan type anti-tank guided missile systems.
Kurdistan seems very modern and prosperous to me, at least it seems this way from its bigger cities. I see a lot of luxury cars – Toyota 200 Series, Mercedes S500, Jaguar and many American brands. My route takes me through northern Iraq, through beautiful landscapes with lush green meadows and forests. Plus, it’s Ramadan, I totally about forgot this.
There isn’t much going on during the day, most of the restaurants are closed or covered by large white linen sheets. When they are open you have to eat behind the linen. Not everyone is fasting, the ones who are not eat in seperate rooms covered from the other people. As soon as the sun-sets, the life on the street starts again; people swarm into the restaurants and fill their bellies. For a few days I try fasting as well, it is very difficult especially not to drink anything when it is very hot outside. I have little power and I am extremely sluggish. After a short visit to Erbil I continue to Amedi and Dohuk.
In Dohuk I meet João from Portugal who travels with his wife and their child. They travel in a converted Mercedes Sprinter 4×4 – it is a beautiful set-up with plenty of space. João gives me tips for the surrounding area and the next day I make my way to Lalish.
Lalish is a small mountain village situated in northern Iraq, near the border with Iraqi Kurdistan. It contains the holiest temple in the Yazidi faith. Later it became the location of the tomb of Sheikh Adi ibn Musafir, who is a central figure of the Yazidi faith. At least once in their lifetime, Yazidis are expected to make a six-day pilgrimage to Lalish to visit the tomb of Şêx Adî .
Before entering the village I’m asked to take off my shoes, no one in the village has shoes on. I meet with a priest of the Yazidis and we drink tea together. He tells me about his visit to Germany, that he likes Germany and is very thankful that we gave asylum to so many Yazidi people. Just when I’m about to leave, I meet a family and they invite me to a picnic.
After this, I make my way to Alqosh, a small village where mainly Christians live. At the centre of the village is a monastery, Rabban Hormizd. The monastery is built directly into the rock, housing many underground tunnels and burial chambers. The village is predominantly populated by Assyrians (Syrian Christians). I found some interesting looking sculptures and paintings in the middle of Alqosh… Maybe trashy is the better word for it.
It’s unbelievably hot outside. I check google maps to see if there is any lakes around and to my excitement, I find the Mosul Dam Lake. It’s a popular spot and there are many young people at the lake. Some come to swim, some to fish and others just to wash their bikes. Initially, they are too shy to talk to me but as soon as I broke the ice they did not stop talking. There used to be a bridge that once led from one side of the lake to the other, sadly ISIS destroyed this bridge during the war. I spend the night camping at the lake and it feels a little bit like being at the sea.
Upon planning my trip to Iraq, I really had no idea what to expect. I can honestly say that after spending time there that I am pleasantly surprised – I have been warmly greeted and received everywhere I went. Many people I have met have been very interested in what brings me to their country – whether I work there and if not, what I am doing there otherwise. The scenic and historical North Iraq has a lot to offer, the mountains and valleys are beautiful.
My time in Iraq has come to an end and now I am on my way to the Turkish border. The Ibrahim Khalil border crossing is my entry point. While waiting I see how everyone who comes from Iraq smuggles cigarettes – they are taped around their arms, stomach or feet. In every little column in the car a cigarette box is concealed. After a good two hours of waiting, it is time. As I drive on, two Turkish border officials address me in Turkish. Not understanding Turkish, I have no response. A few moments later, another Turk approaches me and asks “Are you from Germany?” I answer yes. The man responds sharply, „you need to get your luggage inside to the scanner.” The luggage check is fast. I open the car, the officers take a quick look and then they wave me on. At the next checkpoint the officers ask for proof of car insurance and my driving license. I was surprised by this second request, I have not had to show my license for a long time.
Up next is the police station. The officers stamp my passport and question me about my plans in Turkey and why I am here in the fist place. The whole car has to go through an oversized x-ray machine. In front of me are two white minibuses, they stay in there for pretty long time and then drive out backwards. The customs officers find hundreds of cigarettes hidden in the car. Now it’s my turn and luckily they have nothing to complain about. I can now enter Turkey.
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