Tue, 18 Apr 2006
NEWS 4 - KURDISTAN
Greetings again, dear ones, after a totally amazing, mind-boggling time in Kurdistan ... It was altogether too short a visit, to be able to absorb the extraordinary natural beauty in those mountains, the throwback to one of the oldest settlements on the planet, the timelessness ...
We took off at night, navigating, insisting ourselves through the twists of Tehran traffic ... and finally made our way out onto the open road. Three of us in the car, our Kurdish friend driving, and we alternated cassette tapes, from old favourite classical Persian tasnifs (songs) which Nima and I were singing along with, and then some Kurdish music, also singing along ... sandwiches, fruit and the inevitable thermos of tea ... moonlight! And I kept asking them, are we in Kurdistan yet ...? Laughingly, the answer continued to be no, and then finally after I had dozed off for a while, we stopped for a fluid-exchange at THE MOST wonderful gas station I have ever experienced anywhere ... and finally my question was met with ... YES !!! (How about that, Binoushgouleh!!??) ... and the scene suddenly acquired a different depth of focus ...
It was early morning by the time we arrived there, and we staggered out of the car to greet the day and the mountains rising on the road before us ... A rather elegant bathroom facility, with marble tiles and very high level, precise workmanship ... one of the most astounding demonstrations of "paradox" ... together with the squat toilets and the perfectly aligned aluminum doors and obviously great attention to detailing, there was no roof!!! I imagined
what it must be like in the winter, with snow and/or rain gracing the whole intimate experience ...
Wonderful colourful mural-like paintings on a wall, depicting cartoon-like characters in various phases of filling up their cars with gas and having it leak all over the ground ... TOO BAD I did not have my camera handy ... (and too bad the one I have with me is definitely of the low-tech variety anyway ... hopefully can acquire a digital with computer-posting abilities along the way sooooon!!!)
There were some workers, building some sort of brick wall ... all with the most extraordinary care, I do not recall seeing anywhere else ... and the workers wearing of course the elegant traditional shalvar, baggy pants that is the norm for Kurdish men's dress ...
Trundling up the mountain, winding up and down and around, and finally we reached Sanandaj for a quick buzz around town and a breakfast ... The timelessness of this part of the world has such a strange effect ... transformative and time-stopping ... stepping off into another mind-frame and reckoning of what constitutes "reality" ...
I wanted to hang around longer, but off we zipped, rising and winding and finally stopping for another tea at an outdoor, glorious oasis-like roadside spot with Ibrahim Tatlises wailing out over loudspeakers, singing along with him (one of - if not THE most celebrated singer of Turkish popular music, who is Kurdish ...). I felt instantly reconstituted ... the common denominator factor of: here we are in Iran, and listening to what is normally associated with Turkish culture ... and having it be so natural ...
Off again, till finally arriving in our friend's village ... (sigh ... I really could write for weeks about the whole experience there - only 2 days! - and will keep on doing that, but gotta keep it short for now...)
Screaching up the last stretch before the village, we came up to a traffic cop in the middle of the road, dressed in rather starchy, elegant, formal police attire (another odd contradiction, out here in the countryside, with village life emanating from every direction ...). Our friend driving slowed down a bit, but apparently not enough, since the police officer looked straight at him, with a kind of parental expression, head pitched slightly, and shook his finger vigorously, scoldingly. We all burst into laughter (I think also the officer!) ... and as soon as we passed him, velocity increasing again, we were offffffffffffff ....
There is a magnificent lake by the village, and we went out for a boat-peddling ride in a large plastic yellow swan-boat, while the restaurant folks went to fetch our requested fresh fish ... Delicious, coal-roasted ... dazzled by the whole scenery, and the lack of sleep certainly had its hallucinatory effects!
Back to catch a nap finally, then out for another walk in the dusk by the lake ... where we were totally enchanted by an enormous chorus of FROGS!!! Couldn't pull myself away from the layers of sounds, melodic and rhythmic harmonies, the changes in dynamics, subtleties ... We walked along the lake shore for hours in the rising moonlight, mesmerized by this truly astounding musicial experience.
I can see I am rattling on here and can't stop to edit ... as usual writing on the fly ... so I will try to summarize ...
... Found some good goodies at a local musical instrument store ... wanted to wander around those streets, but toooooooooo bad no time ...
... Music with friends of friends, a great Kurdish singer and his wife from Esfahan playing santour (hammered dulcimer) so sooo beautifully ...
... Visit to a village on the other side of the lake, to get some meat at the preferred butcher ... who has rather ingeniously devised his chopping-block out of a huge old mortar shell, stood on end reaching our waists, with a big hunk of wood cut to fit into the top ... ploughshares from swords ... (the owner was delighted - and posed accordingly - when I asked permission to take a photo, and hopefully it will turn out ... gotta find a film developing situation here ...)
... A trip to Howraman, one of the oldest continually inhabited spots ... and only 10 kilometers from the Iraqi border, on the other side of rather wall-like mountains, where the Kurds from this village and others nearby retreat for the summer. How to express what that village is like ... vertically configured, verrrrry steep slope, houses stacked, stepped up on top of each other ... the roof of one house is the courtyard/"balcony" for the house above. Faces and bodies so strong and proud and handsome ... We walked the length of the village, past the playground for the school kids, kind of a rounded indentation in the mountain, with earth and houses and huge boulders hanging rather precariously over the whole scene ... the elegance of the men's dress, shalvar, jacket, cumberbund ... the colours of the women's dress ...
Speechlessly, we headed back up the mountain, winding up and down around again for a picnic. Hugely expansive, vast space defined by green rolling waves of hills, mountains with snow in the background ... At one point an extra jolt of energy came through as a pickup truck went swooshing by with about 6 men in the back, singing and playing daff!!! I wanted to just jump up and join them ...
Ripping ourselves away ... back down to earth, and back to Tehran by overnight bus from Sanandaj ... Arriving 6 am, sleepless, but so full of energy and high spirits ...
And tonight we are off to Mashhad, most important pilgrimage destination for Shiite Muslims ... with friends of Nima's family.
... The adventures, goodwill and humanity just keep on arising from this extraordinary ground ... enchanting!!!
For now, signing off, with much love to all!
Rowan/Rohan ... hmmm how about Rowhan ...
P.S. If you have not received earlier mailings and would like to (this
is news #4) ... and/or if you do NOT want to receive any of these
rattling, rushed, sloppy and unpolished renderings, PLEASE let me
know!!!)
NEWS 4 - KURDISTAN
Greetings again, dear ones, after a totally amazing, mind-boggling time in Kurdistan ... It was altogether too short a visit, to be able to absorb the extraordinary natural beauty in those mountains, the throwback to one of the oldest settlements on the planet, the timelessness ...
We took off at night, navigating, insisting ourselves through the twists of Tehran traffic ... and finally made our way out onto the open road. Three of us in the car, our Kurdish friend driving, and we alternated cassette tapes, from old favourite classical Persian tasnifs (songs) which Nima and I were singing along with, and then some Kurdish music, also singing along ... sandwiches, fruit and the inevitable thermos of tea ... moonlight! And I kept asking them, are we in Kurdistan yet ...? Laughingly, the answer continued to be no, and then finally after I had dozed off for a while, we stopped for a fluid-exchange at THE MOST wonderful gas station I have ever experienced anywhere ... and finally my question was met with ... YES !!! (How about that, Binoushgouleh!!??) ... and the scene suddenly acquired a different depth of focus ...
It was early morning by the time we arrived there, and we staggered out of the car to greet the day and the mountains rising on the road before us ... A rather elegant bathroom facility, with marble tiles and very high level, precise workmanship ... one of the most astounding demonstrations of "paradox" ... together with the squat toilets and the perfectly aligned aluminum doors and obviously great attention to detailing, there was no roof!!! I imagined
what it must be like in the winter, with snow and/or rain gracing the whole intimate experience ...
Wonderful colourful mural-like paintings on a wall, depicting cartoon-like characters in various phases of filling up their cars with gas and having it leak all over the ground ... TOO BAD I did not have my camera handy ... (and too bad the one I have with me is definitely of the low-tech variety anyway ... hopefully can acquire a digital with computer-posting abilities along the way sooooon!!!)
There were some workers, building some sort of brick wall ... all with the most extraordinary care, I do not recall seeing anywhere else ... and the workers wearing of course the elegant traditional shalvar, baggy pants that is the norm for Kurdish men's dress ...
Trundling up the mountain, winding up and down and around, and finally we reached Sanandaj for a quick buzz around town and a breakfast ... The timelessness of this part of the world has such a strange effect ... transformative and time-stopping ... stepping off into another mind-frame and reckoning of what constitutes "reality" ...
I wanted to hang around longer, but off we zipped, rising and winding and finally stopping for another tea at an outdoor, glorious oasis-like roadside spot with Ibrahim Tatlises wailing out over loudspeakers, singing along with him (one of - if not THE most celebrated singer of Turkish popular music, who is Kurdish ...). I felt instantly reconstituted ... the common denominator factor of: here we are in Iran, and listening to what is normally associated with Turkish culture ... and having it be so natural ...
Off again, till finally arriving in our friend's village ... (sigh ... I really could write for weeks about the whole experience there - only 2 days! - and will keep on doing that, but gotta keep it short for now...)
Screaching up the last stretch before the village, we came up to a traffic cop in the middle of the road, dressed in rather starchy, elegant, formal police attire (another odd contradiction, out here in the countryside, with village life emanating from every direction ...). Our friend driving slowed down a bit, but apparently not enough, since the police officer looked straight at him, with a kind of parental expression, head pitched slightly, and shook his finger vigorously, scoldingly. We all burst into laughter (I think also the officer!) ... and as soon as we passed him, velocity increasing again, we were offffffffffffff ....
There is a magnificent lake by the village, and we went out for a boat-peddling ride in a large plastic yellow swan-boat, while the restaurant folks went to fetch our requested fresh fish ... Delicious, coal-roasted ... dazzled by the whole scenery, and the lack of sleep certainly had its hallucinatory effects!
Back to catch a nap finally, then out for another walk in the dusk by the lake ... where we were totally enchanted by an enormous chorus of FROGS!!! Couldn't pull myself away from the layers of sounds, melodic and rhythmic harmonies, the changes in dynamics, subtleties ... We walked along the lake shore for hours in the rising moonlight, mesmerized by this truly astounding musicial experience.
I can see I am rattling on here and can't stop to edit ... as usual writing on the fly ... so I will try to summarize ...
... Found some good goodies at a local musical instrument store ... wanted to wander around those streets, but toooooooooo bad no time ...
... Music with friends of friends, a great Kurdish singer and his wife from Esfahan playing santour (hammered dulcimer) so sooo beautifully ...
... Visit to a village on the other side of the lake, to get some meat at the preferred butcher ... who has rather ingeniously devised his chopping-block out of a huge old mortar shell, stood on end reaching our waists, with a big hunk of wood cut to fit into the top ... ploughshares from swords ... (the owner was delighted - and posed accordingly - when I asked permission to take a photo, and hopefully it will turn out ... gotta find a film developing situation here ...)
... A trip to Howraman, one of the oldest continually inhabited spots ... and only 10 kilometers from the Iraqi border, on the other side of rather wall-like mountains, where the Kurds from this village and others nearby retreat for the summer. How to express what that village is like ... vertically configured, verrrrry steep slope, houses stacked, stepped up on top of each other ... the roof of one house is the courtyard/"balcony" for the house above. Faces and bodies so strong and proud and handsome ... We walked the length of the village, past the playground for the school kids, kind of a rounded indentation in the mountain, with earth and houses and huge boulders hanging rather precariously over the whole scene ... the elegance of the men's dress, shalvar, jacket, cumberbund ... the colours of the women's dress ...
Speechlessly, we headed back up the mountain, winding up and down around again for a picnic. Hugely expansive, vast space defined by green rolling waves of hills, mountains with snow in the background ... At one point an extra jolt of energy came through as a pickup truck went swooshing by with about 6 men in the back, singing and playing daff!!! I wanted to just jump up and join them ...
Ripping ourselves away ... back down to earth, and back to Tehran by overnight bus from Sanandaj ... Arriving 6 am, sleepless, but so full of energy and high spirits ...
And tonight we are off to Mashhad, most important pilgrimage destination for Shiite Muslims ... with friends of Nima's family.
... The adventures, goodwill and humanity just keep on arising from this extraordinary ground ... enchanting!!!
For now, signing off, with much love to all!
Rowan/Rohan ... hmmm how about Rowhan ...
P.S. If you have not received earlier mailings and would like to (this
is news #4) ... and/or if you do NOT want to receive any of these
rattling, rushed, sloppy and unpolished renderings, PLEASE let me
know!!!)
posted by Rowan Storm at 12:21 PM
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