Mardin, one of the oldest settlements in the world, situated on the rocky hill in once Upper Mesopotamia, today Kurdish town in Turkey. Street merchants selling carpets, pottery and other handicrafts were all
part of a special and authentic feeling of being back in time. Ancient houses made from white brick were overlooking the green plains and the Tigris river in the distance. Thinking of that river, I had a feeling I am already in Iraq.
After a journey through the time, we left Mardin, continued our road towards Iraq and eventually reached the town 10km away from the border. Not many cars went there, but some two guys decided to give us a ride. One of them decided to perform a small concert in his car... so he made our ears hurt by abilities of his voice. Turkish Pavarotti arrived at the border, and his concert was finished without an applause.
The border felt like a big village market, and the guards looked like organizers of a rooster fight, chilling around and collecting passports (or money). Random children were begging around, walking through the border without passport (I would be surprised if they even had an ID). However, we couldn't cross to the other side of a village market unless we find a car to drive us to the side called Iraq. Eventually, a mini van appeared, and border guards put us in. It was a van of traveling comedians, magicians and belly dancers from Turkey, on the road to Iraqi town Duhok, where they had performance the same evening. They decided to give us a ride to that town, and even offered to be our hosts by giving us a free place to stay at the same hotel they were performing. So... we got a room! A huge one. It was not a room for guests, although it had two nice beds, TV, many bottles of water and few more random stuff.
Later that evening, we wanted to attend their show. On the door, there was a sign: "No guns allowed". We started walking inside unarmed, but the security guard stopped Ilaria saying: "Sorry. No women allowed". Before going to sleep, we decided to find few more cultural shocks on the streets of that Iraqi Kurdish town, and find out what else is not allowed...
After a journey through the time, we left Mardin, continued our road towards Iraq and eventually reached the town 10km away from the border. Not many cars went there, but some two guys decided to give us a ride. One of them decided to perform a small concert in his car... so he made our ears hurt by abilities of his voice. Turkish Pavarotti arrived at the border, and his concert was finished without an applause.
The border felt like a big village market, and the guards looked like organizers of a rooster fight, chilling around and collecting passports (or money). Random children were begging around, walking through the border without passport (I would be surprised if they even had an ID). However, we couldn't cross to the other side of a village market unless we find a car to drive us to the side called Iraq. Eventually, a mini van appeared, and border guards put us in. It was a van of traveling comedians, magicians and belly dancers from Turkey, on the road to Iraqi town Duhok, where they had performance the same evening. They decided to give us a ride to that town, and even offered to be our hosts by giving us a free place to stay at the same hotel they were performing. So... we got a room! A huge one. It was not a room for guests, although it had two nice beds, TV, many bottles of water and few more random stuff.
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| Two funny guys, in the Duhok bookstore |
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