TravelStream™ news feed for member a.sinanoglou on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/a.sinanoglou en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Fri, 19 Sep 2008 11:46:39 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218309360/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218309360/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218309360/tpod.html Fri, 19 Sep 2008 11:46:39 -0400 Aqaba to Istanbul by land

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Zakho, Iraq

So, you're probably wondering about that dot on the map. It's not a mistake.

We met a guide, Mehmet Nasip Onen (nicknamed Montana - he's seen pictures and he loves the place), and an American woman, Sabina, in a Syrian-Christian church in Diyarbakir. We were all admiring a piece of iconography of Jesus Christ with a Turkish/Syrian style mustache. We had tea with Mehmet and Sabina, during which Mehmet told us about a trip he offers, and had just taken two journalists on, to Northern Iraq (aka Kurdistan) to meet the Yezidi people. Montana worked for the DOD in Baghdad in 2005 as a translator, and can speak English, Turkish, Kurdish, Russian and some Arabic.

A few hours later, the four of us, Eugene (who we've been traveling with in Syria), Sabina, Nick and myself, decided to go and the same day we crossed the border into the Iraq. The crossing was smooth as passenger cars are allowed to skip the hundreds of oil tankers lined up to get in. (We were instructed not to use the word Kurdistan on the Turkish side, but to say that we were students studying the Yezidi people.)

We met up with a friend of Montana's, Kevin, for dinner just on the Iraqi side of the border. He's a DOD employee (civilian Kurdish/Turkish/English translator), born in Turkey, ethnically Kurish, and spent some time growing up in California. Now he's a translator and cultural advisor to the higher-ups (as he says "I tell them not to fart in meetings and not to ask about other people's wife's.")

After dinner he showed us around the American military base. It performs two functions: firstly, it's the staging ground for supply convoys coming from Turkey, and secondly, the higher-ups on the base deal with the Turks when they raid PKK camps on Iraqi soil. (The PKK is the Kurdish Workers Party, a separatist terrorist organization which operates between Turkey, Iraq and Iran to create a Kurdish state.)

Kevin was showing us around the staging ground/yard for the convoys and we were playing around on the hummers (taking photos etc.) when the head of security for the buildings adjacent to the yard ran out with an m-16 wielding sergeant and a thuggish-looking Kurdish translator, of the Tintin ilk, in tow. Apparently the head of security sleeps on the roof and saw us on the hummers - but not Kevin. He was also insistent that we not take any more pictures, 'I'm sure you've got enough by now; no need to delete them, but no more.' He also wanted to be taken to Kevin's CO (who Kevin had received permission from.) During that time we were guarded by the sergeant, who had only been deployed to Iraq a few weeks previous. Everyone was generally pacified when they realized that we were all Americans and when we started asking the soldiers about their home towns etc. Eventually, everything was sorted out and we were allowed to go. We stayed the night at a hotel in the border town of Zakho.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218292680/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218292680/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218292680/tpod.html Fri, 19 Sep 2008 11:35:37 -0400 Aqaba to Istanbul by land

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Lalish, Iraq

Today we traveled to a major Yezidi town, Sheikhan, about 20 minutes from Mosul. We passed through five or six checkpoints with little or no problem. In Sheikhan we were met by a Yezidi Journalist, Lohman Suleiman, of the Denge Lalish (www.lalishduhok.org) who accompanied us and was our second translator/guide for the day. He was writing a story about our visit for the paper. From Sheikhan we went to the holiest village in the Yezidi religion, Lalish. The entire village is sacred and therefore it is required to take off both your shoes and socks before entering (like a mosque, but much more wide reaching boundaries.) Needless to say, rocks baked in the Iraqi sun make for sore feet.

We were taken to meet some people in the village, and there was much interest on both sides. They were taking lots of pictures of us, as well as a few home videos, while we did some of the former. They were particularly taken with Eiguine's three ear piercings (bars). We ate some fruit with them while introductions were made and we explained where we were from. Eventually, the chief priest arrived to show us around the Yezidi temple. The temples are capped with star-shaped pyramid structures. Inside the temple complex are a 365 wicks which are all lit every morning before sunrise. They use olive oil as the candle fuel, and consequently have huge barrels of the liquid stored in the temple.

The Yesidi Religion
This information is, I think, mostly accurate. It comes from the chief priest, through the journalist, Montana and Eugene (when we met people who spoke Arabic).

The Yezidies are dualists, believing in two gods, a god of creation and a material god, who controls the earth. The latter god is a peacock, who, with seven angels, controls earth. There is a little controversy over whether or not the Yezidies are devil worshipers. This idea became popular, especially amongst Muslims, because the story concerning how the peacock's role in the universe came to be so closely mirrors the Koran's telling of how Shaetan (Satan) became the devil (he was the Jinn who refused to bow down to Adam, as God commanded, and was therefore cast out.)


The Temple
The doorway to the Yezidi temple is decorated on the right side with a black snake, which represents the cosmos and, as such, is believed to hold the earth. It is a constrictor snake, not poisonous, so it makes sense that it holds the earth by rapping around it. The snake is revered in the area, and, consequently, they do not kill it.

There are peacock decorations above the temple doorway and in other places in the village. There was some ambiguity as to the status of the peacock in Yezidism. It may have been previously worshiped as the sun god or in some way equated with the sun, but now the two are considered separate entities.

When entering the temple, or going through any doorway inside the temple, one steps over the raised stone threshold. This style of entrance is similar to that seen in some of the old orthodox churches and monasteries, where the doorway is made intentionally short such that one has to bow in order to enter the holy space. By making people step over the raised threshold the same effect is realized. When Yezidies enter the temple they either bend down and kiss the stone sides or kneel and kiss the threshold (or kiss their hand and press it to the door frame.)

Once inside the temple, the first room contains many columns, around which are tied swaths of brightly colored cloth of a hundred different hues and shades. People tie knots in fabric in order to make a prayer/wish. In this room is a well under which runs a natural stream. In addition, there are a set of stairs down to an underground area around the stream, but it is just for women to pray in, so we weren't allowed in.

We proceeded from this room into a main temple room on which the star/pyramid shaped dome sits. No clear explanation was given as to the use of this room. From there, we were led into a series of rooms carved out of the ground, the first of which contained approximately 40 oil drums and a similar number of ancient clay urns full of olive oil for the wicks around and inside the temple. From this room we moved into a final room in which there is a tomb of a man who may or may not be the founder of the religion. On this point things were unclear, and the darkness did not help facilitate communication.

Upon exiting the temple the journalist interviewed us, asking about our professions, what we knew about the Yezidi people before we came and what we'd tell people when we got back to the US. At this point it was time to leave. We headed back to the Army base, had dinner with Kevin, which he insisted on covering, before heading back over the border, arriving in Diyarbakir at around 3 am.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218661500/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218661500/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218661500/tpod.html Fri, 22 Aug 2008 16:15:40 -0400 Aqaba to Istanbul by land

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Kars, Kars, Turkey

Ishak Pasha Sere
Osk Vank
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Istanbul, Turkey

Kariye Museum

Heybeliada - Greek Orthodox Monasry and Theological School Aya Triada Manastiri
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Sivas, Sivas, Turkey

Kale Camii
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218546480/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218546480/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1218546480/tpod.html Thu, 14 Aug 2008 17:33:13 -0400 Aqaba to Istanbul by land

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Van, Van, Turkey

The general atmosphere in Kurdistan (south-eastern Turkey and northern Iraq) is of a strong Kurdish national Identity. It goes beyond the Kurdish dress, for men, pants with crotches around their knees, for women, a purple headscarf and occasional scarlet red clothing, to serious expressions for political independence on the one side and a psychological campaign and a military presence to maintain unity on the other side.

The Turks have created a cult of personality around Attaturk, displaying large statues, or outlines of his face on the sides of mountains overlooking cities along with huge signs saying "I'm glad to be a Turk' etc. All this in areas with 90% Kurdish population. In addition, we've seen one picture frame with a plaster-cast imprint of Attaturk's face. In the far reaches of eastern Turkey there are numerous military checkpoints and basis. During one day's worth of driving we were stopped, and on occasion searched, no less than ten times.

The Kurds that we've met, and even some of the Turks living in Kurish areas, are in favor of a Kurdish state, though Montana refuses to talk about this political issue. One young man we met and hung out with in Van talked about 'the psychological war' carried out by the Turks, and how he had to use the internet to find 'the illegal histories.' Besides paying for a load of our laundry (without us knowing) and taking us out to dinner, he offered us black market gas (but we're using LPG, which is cheaper, so we couldn't use it anyway.) Apparently his uncle smuggles petrol. The whole village in which his uncle lives travels on horseback, 70-100 horses, to the Iranian border (about 20 minutes away) and brings back the cheap petrol. It all takes place through PKK territory, so they don't have to deal with Turkish or Iranian soldiers most of the time.

If anyone thinks that the free dinner (after spending the day with him) and the offer of petrol is at all sketchy, it's really not. In eastern Turkey we've been meeting lots of very friendly Kurds. Everyone gives you free tea; I was offered free tea at a gas station while waiting for the credit card transaction to go through. Speaking of tea, there' a particular Kurdish style of drinking the tea. It is always necessary to put sugar in your tea. We put the cubes in tea; they put the cube on their tongue and then drinking the tea past it.

Besides meeting lots of very friendly people, we've also seen some amazing natural and man-made sites. At Van lake, the largest lake in Turkey, we went to the Armenian church located on an island and also saw the Van cat, a species specific to the region. The cat is completely white, very friendly, and has one blue eye and one gold eye. Most of Armenian churches are in disrepair or bombed out (the Turks refusing to recognize the minority's existence). In Diyarbakir, we had to go through someone's house to get to the back yard, in which is located an Armenian church bombed out during the genocide.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1217358420/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1217358420/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1217358420/tpod.html Wed, 30 Jul 2008 16:10:16 -0400 Aqaba to Istanbul by land

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Baalbeck, Lebanon

Nick, Joe and I are in Baalbeck , Lebanon. It's well known for it's temple to Baacus and Jupiter, for some columns (the tallest in the world) and some cut stone (the heaviest/largest in the world - 1000 tones, 2 million lbs.) It's also well known for being Hezbollah (Party of God) headquarters. Naturally, there are somewhat fewer tourists than in Beirut, but more than Tripoli.

We'd had a long day, traveling from Tripoli, on the Mediterranean, to Baalbeck via a ceder reserve. We'd driven to 3300 meters, the top of the Mt. Lebanon range, and down into the large valley between the latter range and the anti-Syrian range (which, as you can imagine, borders Syria. In this valley you find Baalbeck , and it is not what you expect. Thoughts of Hezbollah HQ conjure up images of bearded men at checkpoints which bristle with guns, multiple passport checks, a suspicions of outsiders, no alcohol in the stores, women dressed in conservative Islamic dress. All this is not the case. No security checks, friendly people, alcohol sold in stores, women wearing nothing conservative etc.

Anyway, we'd seen the temples, the columns, the sites, and the Hezbollah kitsch they sell outside those sites. We'd eaten dinner, visited an internet cafe, and had returned to our hotel to find that the power had gone out in the neighborhood. At 11 we decided to go out to find a place to smoke hookah, but to no avail - Baalbeck shuts down early. So we bought a few bags of chips and some drinks and walked back to our neighborhood to sit on a bench overlooking some of the ruins (though with the lights out we were sitting in near pitch black darkness.) We sat, passing different types of chips back and forth, not know which one's we liked, and constantly changing our minds about which type we liked best, being unable to see what type we were eating. After a while power returned to the neighborhood, and the deserted streets were illuminated by the lampposts. As we sat there, the occasional car or motorcycle passing us by, one of the latter stopped in front of us. The two men riding on it, dismounted, crossed the road, introduced themselves and squatted down in front of our bench.

The one with the most English, the leader of the two, was named Shatbi. He was a native to Baalbeck , perhaps 30 years old, closely shaved beard, greased back hair, eagle ta toe on his upper right arm, wearing a brown t-shirt, blue-jeans, leather boots and a khaki vest. His friend, name unknown, had a closely cropped head of hear, clean shaven , couldn't be a day over 26 and wore a white, muscle-gripping t-shirt, blue jeans and black pointy leather boots.

After the usual where where are you from, did you study Arabic etc., we were asked where we headed, and, upon hearing the name Syria, Shatbi announced his complete disgust for Syrian
people. Politics, naturally ensued, including issues about the civil war and the occupation of Lebanon by Syrian troops. Shatbi told us that he couldn't go to Syria because after Harrir died in 2005, there were protests in Baalbeck during which a Syrian was killed, so they blacklisted people in the town.

He works in Dubai as a manager at a cleaning company, but he's been back for four months and is waiting to return. He makes $3,200 a month there, but has no ability to save as everything is very expensive. He has a love hate relationship with Lebanon and with Baalbeck . The people changes (or he changed after being in Dubai) and now he loves it, because it is home, but he hates it, because there is 'no scene here, man, and no money.'

His friend is in the army. He's just come from Beirut where he was guarding the American Embassy. He only gets paid $300 a month, but, after being in for 20 years, he can retire and receive a pension.

Interspersed with our conversation were offers to get some hashish to smoke from his motorcycle,
cigarettes, to go get some beer, or to take his motorcycle for a ride (i.e. we drive.) Every once in a while, someone would drive by in a car or on a motorcycle, and say high in passing. He told us, and it seemed true, that he knew everyone and was the big boss around the neighborhood. One man was pointed out to us as belonging to Hezbollah 'but he's not a bad man, Hezbollah is not bad. you see this sign (gesturing to a large HB poster memorializing a leader slain in Syria) they do this, but they don't stop the people from drinking, all they do is defend Lebanon in the south. Believe me man, wallah, they are good.' He explained how Lebanon was good, because the Christians pray for the Muslims and the Muslims pray for the Christians. 'But in Baalbeck , no Christians, so it is no good.' He seemed to be saying that a diversity of religious groups living together was good.

When we told him that tomorrow we'd be heading to Syria, the conversation took a turn which I will attempt to recount accurately.

'It's a bad place, bad people, I don't like. When the army here (referring to the occupation of Lebanon by the Syrian Army) they take my car, my house, my money. Then, after Hariri (referring to that ex-politicians assassination - See pictures of the bombing site), I see this man, who takes my stuff, and he is leaving. All Syrian people are leaving. I see him from a hundred meters, on the street over there, and I (motions pulling a gun from his waistband) and I 'ba ba ba .' We're all unsure of what to say next, except Nick, who, without missing a beat, says 'Did you get your car back?' 'No, I didn't get it back, but this why I can no longer go to Syria.'

Things pretty much devolved from there. He explained how he had bought an M4 in Beirut recently, and when he had trouble explaining that he'd bought a gun, his friend, showed us a picture of it on his cellphone. His friend, the soldier, then went searching for files on his cellphone while his friend said to us 'Do you know Fata al -Islami in Tripolie' He was referring to the Palestinian organizations that operate in the Palestinian refuge camps around Tripoli. In the last two months there has been some heavy fighting between the Lebanese army and these organizations, including Fatah al -Islami . to the extent that one refugee camp was completely cleared of people. One this introductory explanation was given, we were handed the phone on which the soldier had recorded videos. The first, I guess, would be called a trophy video - the face of some Fatah fighter, half of whose face had been crushed into the other half after or before being shot diagonally across the face, blood everywhere. In the second, two wounded people, covered in their own blood, lay on the floor with a group of soldiers standing around them.

I wonder why he'd shot them -- the videos that is. Perhaps it's the ubber rubbernecking for the ultimate car crash in life. Doubly fascinating because the soldier is one shot away from being in the his enemy's video. It's a mirror or looking-glass, through which one can glimpse the other paths in, or rather out of, life.

Once you reach this point in a conversation you simply nod, seem interested and hope they don't show you any more, which they didn't. In fact, Shatbi seemed to think this was all horrible but life in Lebanon. 'This is Lebanon (shrug) it sucks.' After that we chatted for a while, Perhaps some of the discussion I've reported as prior to these two conversation turning-points took place after them, but it's a bit of a blur which pivots around hose two axies . Eventually they had to leave because the soldier had to go to bed. We sat, collecting ourselves, before heading into our hotel to sleep, but first, to write this.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1217085540/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1217085540/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1217085540/tpod.html Sat, 26 Jul 2008 11:21:39 -0400 Aqaba to Istanbul by land

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Beirut, Lebanon

Entry Coming.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1215710160/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1215710160/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1215710160/tpod.html Fri, 25 Jul 2008 13:18:12 -0400 Aqaba to Istanbul by land

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Amman, Jordan

While staying at the Cliff hotel in Amman, we met two people whose situations embody the painful political situation in the Middle East.


Sabeeh
Sabeeh is a 70 year-old Iraqi man who had been living at the Cliff for 20 days before Nick and I showed up. He's been trying to get his family out of Iraq ever since two of his four sons were shot dead by a militia. As he said to me, speaking also with his hands, "Now, I put a big X over Iraq. I go anywhere they send me, but no Iraq." It took him over a year to get the right type of passport and the appropriate visa to allow him to leave Iraq for Jordan. Of the 150 people per month considered for entry from Iraq to Jordan, he was one of eight to make it through the process. This native Bagdadian is now a refuge of the Iraq War.


As a refuge he has a huge amount of documentation, which he proudly displayed to me. I could read some of it, it being almost completely in Arabic. He had maps which directed him to various places where he could receive a variety of services, free doctors, food, and medicine. He doesn't take advantage of any of them, but says that other refugees get the stuff (e.g. bag of rice) and sell them. He has no interest in any of this food, medicine etc, he said, he just wants out.


He told me about his life. He use to work at the Saddam Hussein International Airport. He worked in a section that dealt with the airport's signaling/communications with the planes. He took some certification classes in England, Italy and France, and eventually headed up one of the 17 sections which run the airport. He explained that he worked on the communications boxes that the pilots used to perform triangulation.


Now, at the Cliff Hotel, he sits and chats with us, or pads around in his pajamas, and waits for a phone call from the UN Refugee Agency. They will tell him to which country he will be moving. Once he gets there, his wife and two remaining sons will follow him. His wife called him yesterday to tell him that his next door neighbor of 40 years was gunned down while shopping in the market. He remains upbeat, telling jokes or funny stories, but his laughter sometimes seems to verge on tears.




British Woman
I never got her name so I'll call her Charlot. Charlot is a Brit in her early 30s. She went to Palestine a while ago to protest the Israeli Occupation, stand in front of bulldozers, document events as they occurred, etc. All standard anti-war work. She ended up marrying a Palestinian man. This is where her troubles really begin. Since 2003 the Israeli government hasn't been giving residency permits to children or married couples in the Occupied Territories. For this reason she is suppose to go in and out on a tourist visa (three months at a time.) She knows various wives who have been doing this for over thirty years.


Anyway, she got an agreement with the Ministry of the Interior that she could live in the country from 23 months (assumed renewable) leaving every three to renew her visa. However, the Ministry of Defense controls all the border crossings, so when she left, and then tried to get back in, she was turned away. The last time she stayed at the Cliff hotel it had been for seven months, while she sued up to the level of the Israeli Supreme Court, to be granted entry into Palestine (Nablus) to see her husband. When we left her, she had been at the Cliff for 20 days and her husband had been called in for questioning by the police


She had previously tried to get her husband a residency permit in various countries, though they are both want to leave, as that would be 'giving in.' She's had to post bonds on herself for good behavior while she is in Nablus. A woman married to her husband's brother has been living illegally with her husband for years, and pretty much doesn't leave the house (as there are checkpoints everywhere ... and without the right paperwork she will be deported.) While her parents-in-law see no problem with her just living at home, she clearly won't stand for it.


So now Charlot waits at the Cliff Hotel for her Israeli lawyer to try to get her back in the Occupied Territories to see her husband. Similarly, Sabeeh waits for the UN bureaucracy to place him in any state that will take him so that he can get his family out of Baghdad.


"The Palestinians, 90% of Amman, are waiting to go home, Iraqi refugees are waiting to get out of the region or go home."


"Jordan" says Charlot "is one big waiting room."
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1216412160/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1216412160/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/a.sinanoglou/2/1216412160/tpod.html Tue, 22 Jul 2008 16:37:58 -0400 Aqaba to Istanbul by land

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Wadi Musa, Jordan

Pictures
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