This photo was taken by me in 2011 while driving along the mountainside in Darbandikhan.
Family photos in Kurdistan
(My grandfather on the right)
1978
Anonymous: do you speak kurdish?
I visited Kurdistan the Summer of 2011 and learned about 200-300 words. I wouldn’t say I speak Kurdish but I am definitely learning. I can speak in very common and simple phrases like hello how are you. I am hungry. I am sleepy. I don’t want to eat _______. You are crazy. I love you , etc.
So yes and no?
By the way if anyone could help me along my journey of learning Kurdish I’d truly appreciate it. It’s hard for me to keep up when I’m not actually in Kurdistan immersed in the language.
Last night I dreamt of Kurdish chai. I don’t remember everything about the dream except the excitement I felt when I realized someone was going to serve it to me. It must have been my grandmother. She was carrying a silver platter with the filled up chai glasses on top. I could smell the tea and the sugar.
I miss Kurdistan more than anything. Maybe I feel the longing towards it more now because my dad lives there. My dad fucking lives somewhere that is not my own home. It’s weird. But I’d rather him be there than anywhere in the world.
I miss the taste of chai and the cultural importance of it in general. Every meal was accompanied by chai. Every conversation accompanied by chai. When someone new entered the room there was always someone else in charge of making and bringing the guests chai within 5 minutes.
The first few days I spent there I drank the tea straight from the glass after swirling the small spoon around the tea, waiting a few minutes for it to cool down. The more I observed everyone else (mostly the men) I realized they drank the tea much differently. They would pour the tea from the glass to the tea plate, pick up the plate, put it up to their mouths and drink it much like us Westerners would drink milk out of the bowl after we finish our cereal. I asked why and they said it was mostly to cool the tea down so they’d be able to drink it faster. From that moment on I never drank my tea the “normal” out of the glass way.
Sugar cubes. Silver platters. Pink roses. Prayer beads.
These are the things I miss.
When I visited Kurdistan last year I had my cousins help me compile a book of about 200 words&phrases. When I asked what toilet paper is in Kurdish everyone laughed. No one uses TP in the village.
I want to help. I don’t know if this helps but Hero has assured me that it does. And I believe her. Sign this for me please. Because I can’t sign it again.
I miss my father and the mountains of Kurdistan more than I ever thought possible.
