Aaron and I had to leave Turkey because our visas were about to run out. The only country that was accessible by land (because of covid) was Iraq. Before arriving we were unaware of the differences between Iraq and Iraqi Kurdistan and for all we knew, we were heading to the well known land or terrorism and danger. Unbeknown to us however, what we were about to experience was far from that.
Erbil is the capital of the northern region of Iraq, Iraqi Kurdistan. Despite everything I had been told about visiting Iraq, I can assertively say that I felt safer in Erbil that I do in the majority of cities in England. The city is populated mainly by Kurdish people, unlike southern Iraq which is densely populated by Arabs.
On our second day in Erbil, we were walking through the medina trying to work out where to go next, with no plan to stay in the city for more than another twenty four hours. A voice called out to us, asking if we wanted some coffee, we replied saying we had no money and we were sorry. Nevertheless, Mohammad invited us into his cafe to drink for free. We explained that we live without money and instead try to wok for everything we need, such as food and accommodation.
Another voice piped up from behind the bar and said ‘you can work here’. So that was that, we started the next day. I was in disbelief, we had been in this mysterious country for less than twenty four hours, and had already been offered stable work. This was something that was usually a hassle to look for, as many people found it difficult to understand our concept of only wanting food and accommodation, instead of money. This was something special, I could feel it. Little did I know quite how special it would really be.
I had been a barista in a coffee shop for two years previously in England, and when I quit that job to go travelling, I never thought I’d be working in a coffee shop again, let alone in Iraq.
Most of the customers were regulars, and it would be the same smiling faces I spoke to each day. I loved the architecture of the medina, the way every shop was so close together, the small corridors leading to the next stand, the constant hustle and bustle of people selling things on wheel barrows, shouting out their prices, golden jewellery shops sparkling, and the iconic call to prayer ringing out through the entire city five times a day.
Within a very small amount of time, the locals took a great interest in us, and people would constantly want to take photos with us. Throughout each day I seemed to be taking more photos than making coffee and my life became more similar to that of a celebrity than a barista. Due its negative media stereotype, I believe very few westerners visit the middle east, and for this reason, when the locals saw people like Aaron and I, they were astounded. Furthermore, I think the locals living in these stereotypical dangerous countries are very aware of the image that their country has, and so on the rare occasion that they see foreigners, they will make a concise effort to be as kind as possible, perhaps in an attempt to change that image.
With our story being so astonishing to the local people, before we knew it, Rudaw, the Kurdish equivalent to the BBC, came and interviewed us, and we were aired on TV. Following this, people didn’t want photos with us just because we were foreigners, but people knew our names and came to the coffee shop especially to talk to us. One day, one of the locals took us to a ski resort, and even then, deep into the mountains, a man said, ‘Aaron, Alice, hey I saw you guys on tv’! Following the interviews with Rudaw, two more media companies came to talk to us about our story and why we had decided to live without using money.
The thing that became most apparent when making all these new connections with people, are that the Kurds are an extremely displaced population, and they are desperate to show the absolute best side of themselves. Making guest hospitality an EXTREME importance in their culture. Not one day went by without us being invited to dinner by multiple people, people from allover the bazaar would bring us to their shops and insist that we choose something to take as a gift, food was passed out to us as we walked through the market, and once, someone even took his shoes off and tried to give them to Aaron who was walking barefoot.
The invitation that was the most exceptional, was when one of the customers in the coffee shop, who worked for the government, invited us to come with him to a place called Barzan, and meet Barzani, the president of the Kurdish military. It was over a three hour drive through the mountains, and a forbidden region, that usually only governmental people are permitted to enter. He took us there especially, wanting to, again, demonstrate the exceptional hospitality of the Kurds. Aaron had to wear a traditional male Kurdish suit and I had to wear a traditional dress with a hat.
We were greeted with the upmost respect, And whilst sat in the government building we were told ‘this is your home, you are welcome at all times, if you need a place to sleep, if you need anything, please tell us’
They told us time after time agin how important hospitality was to them as Kurds and that if we needed ANYTHING, we must tell them. I had already experienced this kindness from the people I had met in the coffee shop, but when you are told to treat a government building like your home, it brings the importance of kindness to a new sense of reality.
They filmed us talking about Kurdistan, and asked us to mention our thoughts on the hospitality there, and specifically how we had been treated by the local people. I was also gifted a beautiful hand carved smoking pipe.
I was receiving unbelievable generosity every single day, and if I ever denied a gift, people wold become tremendously upset. Something I learned here was to always accept anything I am given, because after all, why would someone offer something to me if they didn’t want to give it.
The days in the coffee shop ticked on, serving the same smiling faces, and absorbing the buzz of the bazaar like it was all I’d ever known. What I whim I had arrived on, I could never have expected this kind of magic in an unknown place.
As I have already mentioned, and will not stop mentioning, the Kurds take huge pride in their exceptional hospitality and kindness towards guests. This kindness came out in its true colours when we were invited out to eat by different people every day.
A memorable lunchtime invitation was in Cagga Hamzas shop. Cagga means older brother and I was told to refer to many of the men I met, putting Cagga before their name, as a mark of respect.
Cagga hamza owned a women’s clothing shop, and on this particular lunch time, around twenty five other shopkeepers came into his shop, he closed the door, and set up the floor for what you could call a dinner party. We lay down matts, plates, cutlery, drinks, in a long row in amongst the clothing for sale. The mother of one of the other shop keepers had made a huge pot of Dolmar, which is a traditional Kurdish food, the gigantic pot was shared around sparingly to everyone attending.
To this day, the Kurds are still desperate for their own land. They do not have their own country, and are a population that has to live spread out across Armenia, Turkey, Syria, Iraq and Iran. From talking to some Kurdish people myself, I have been told the Kurds have suffered so much in the past, living under four different political systems, and having their homes destroyed time after time again, that their kindness is like their backbone to survival. They feel they need to prove themselves worthy of respect, to avoid being so badly displaced once again.
We had planned to stay in Iraqi Kurdistan for just a few days, and it ended up being a whole month. We knew nothing about the place when we arrived, and only went there because our visas for turkey were about to expire. It can often intimidating to step into an utterly unknown country, without any plan whatsoever. Or maybe if you don’t have a plan, a good idea would be to at least research where you are going beforehand. However my trip to Iraqi Kurdistan, was a step into pure oblivion, and by the time I stepped out, my world view had done a twisting somersault on me, landing facing the opposite side to which I took off.
With being at the coffee shop every single day, I had little time to explore Kurdistan. However I felt I got to know Erbil and the unbelievably kind culture of the Kurdish people, better than I would have in a year of visiting tourist destinations and staying in hotels. By staying in one place, and talking to the same people every day, I could immerse myself in a way that is just not possible on a normal tourist visit. I felt truly a part of the peoples lives, working with the locals, talking with the locals, living with the locals.
Something bittersweet I’ve always found about travelling, is how, as soon as you start to settle in one place, it’s time to leave again, a constantly snapping string of attachments. After one month, our only option was to go back to turkey, our Kurdistan visas had run out, and all the surrounding countries were closed up to due to covid. There was still one week remaining on our Turkish visas, so returning was our only option. The next plan, considering we’d already tried all land borders exiting Turkey, was to attempt to hitchhike a boat to Africa. Which we did with success, sort of, but that’s a story for another day.
As we walked through the bazaar for the last time, with our huge bags, a voice called out to us ‘bye bye?’ In questioning, similarly to the first time we had walked there, when it all began with Mohammad calling out ‘hello’.
I cried as I said my goodbyes, and Ratan our co-worker in the coffee shop wouldn’t even hug us he was so sad. He stood by the coffee machine and tried to continue making coffee as Aaron and I both smothered him in our arms, not allowing him to reach the machine.
One of the customers from the cafe happened to be driving to the Turkish border, and very kindly took us with him.
I would like to, once again thank every single person I met in Iraqi Kurdistan, you gave me so much hope for humanity, for peace and for unison in the world. You are the kindest people I have ever met and I owe so much to you all. I hope I can return to Erbil one day.
