Erbil, Kurdistan, N. Iraq
March 3, 2004
My work schedule continues to be abbreviated a full month after the bombings here in Erbil. The bombings, combined with the frantic negotiations in Baghdad over the Interim Constitution, have left my employers busy and distracted. I am hoping that things will continue to “normalize,” even though the aftershocks of the bombings will be felt for some time to come.
Yesterday was the 10th day of Shia Islam’s biggest holiday (the martyrdom of Imam Hussein)—so we had the day off. We had both the first and tenth days off. Sadly, terrorists struck at about 10 a.m. yesterday in Baghdad and the Shia religious cities in the south as worshippers were gathered at their holy places killing AT LEAST 143 people. The bombings clearly seemed aimed at setting Sunni and Shia Muslims against one another. I surely hope we (the U.S. government) don’t let things devolve into a civil war here between religious and ethnic groups. That would be a terrible, terrible thing.
One interesting feature of life here: there is no list of public holidays available. When does one find out about holidays? The day before they happen. Quite literally. Not even my friend who runs a school was able to get a list of holidays from the Ministry of Education about upcoming holidays.
Last week Frank invited an American Army Reservist to dinner. We’ll call him Joe, and he shall remain otherwise unidentifiable, as it seems that not even his wife knows this story. We met Joe at a reception a month ago, and it turns out that he and Frank share an interest in archeology. Frank is still hoping to get to the ancient sites of Nineveh, Nimrud and Hatra, but it seems that going with an army convoy might be the only way to get there. The closest of these sites lies about 37 km from Erbil (and OUTSIDE the borders of the Kurdish Autonomous Region), so it’s NOT far distance-wise.
So, Joe has been with the Reserves for many years and seems to enjoy getting away from his “regular” life every few years. He has served in Korea, Bosnia, Kosovo, and other places. He works in civil affairs, though, and is certainly not a “gung-ho” type. Anyhow, on the day of the February 1st bombings in Erbil, he headed into the KDP headquarters followed at close pace by his interpreter. This being the first day of Eid, a four-day Muslim holiday, he decides that he should learn how to say “Happy Holidays” in Kurdish. Now, Joe doesn’t speak more than a few words of Kurdish, but this time he really wants to make an effort. Throughout the morning he will be greeting much of the KDP and PUK leadership. In the crowded hallway outside the reception hall, Joe stops three or four times to turn to his interpreter: “How do you say that again?” Having finally mastered the phrase to his satisfaction, Joe and his interpreter approach the hall. Ten feet from the door to the reception hall, there is an enormous explosion.
The only American in the building at the time, Joe escaped with cuts on his hands. He helped an injured man to get outside and then returned to help others. When Joe tried to help a second person, the man died as Joe reached down to help him. Joe went into shock and wandered back outside where he was found by another Army person. Joe tells this story in a matter-of-fact way, but I think it will be a long time before he really comes to terms with what happened.
Those two words of Kurdish will likely be the ones Joe remembers for the rest of his life: The time it took to learn them saved his life. Eid Piroz-bit.
