Kurdistan... the Other Iraq

It’s always exciting to travel, and even more so when it’s to a place that few people venture to.

Iraqi Kurdistan is an autonomous region in the northern part of Iraq with their own culture and government, the KRG, centered in Erbil, the town we stayed in.  Understandably, they don't get many tourists there, but I felt completely safe the entire time, and the people we encountered made us feel welcome.

We flew into Kurdistan’s small but beautiful new terminal and entered the country with no problems – first stamp in my brand new passport! 

A sunny, beautifully cool morning welcomed us to our first day of Kurdistan road-tripping. Our tour guide, Balin, was a Kurd who lived in London for 8 years before returning to his homeland… more on that later! 

A rather barren landscape surrounded us this first day, low hills of winterized wheat fields and rocks in many shades of tan and brown contrasting with the cloudless and brilliant blue sky.  First stop, St. Matthews Monastery, a still-active monastery with a beautiful view and peaceful, blissful silence.  The head monk, wearing his traditional garb, told us about the monastery, a haven for persecuted Christians in the past.  He himself came to St. Matthews after his brother was killed during violence in a nearby town.

 

Stop #2 was just an empty field, but more than 2000 years ago it was the scene of an epic battle between Alexander the Great and Darius the King of Persia, where Alexander overcame great odds and Darius ran away…. as more recently portrayed in the movie Alexander. Soccer-playing boys, amused by the white people staring at a field, followed us around, giggling and posing for pictures.

And in the middle of another random field we find… an aqueduct. Complete with Cuneiform carvings.  The nearby flock of sheep seemed less impressed than we were.  

Our next monastery stop was the much more ancient, but just as blissfully quiet, St. Hormizd monastery. We explored the cave system that was the original home of the monks and Christian refugees.

Our final stop was an amazing village called Lalish, built into a cool shaded valley.  Barefoot beauties and wizened men moved everywhere as we walked into a dust storm, turbaned heads bent over twig brooms, sweeping the temple courtyard. Men, women and children are all taking part in the cleaning of the village. Stepping over the threshold, we entered the Yezidi temple, one of the most important for this small religious sect.

Swaths of brightly colored silk decorate the main room, and as the power flickers and dies we follow the flashlight deeper into the temple, our bare feet walking the same cool stone as countless pilgrims before us, past the tomb of a saint, into a room lined with jars upon jars of the fragrant olive oil used to light the lamps.

The sound of sweeping ushered us from the village as the sun set. It was so utterly amazing to walk in this little enclave of tradition.

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More to come!