Between 1973 and 2010 I travelled twelve times to the Kurdistan Region, which resulted in two books and dozens of articles. It had been exciting and wonderful, but after the twelfth trip I decided to focus on other subjects.
Quite unexpectedly, I was back in May last year to attend the opening of the Barzani National Memorial in Barzan: a fast dash in and out, just 48 hours after I left home in The Hague in Holland I was back. But it had been long and joyful enough to rekindle my love for Kurdistan and the Kurds. Therefore I was delighted when, on 11 November last year, I received an email from Sirwan Rahim, a documentary filmmaker at Rudaw. They were considering making a program about my work in the Kurdistan Region, in particular my photobook The Kurds of Iraq (2009), which contained photos and stories of my journeys since 1973. We would go back to some of the places where I had taken some of those shots, and I could talk about the differences.
To cut a long story short: on March 1 I arrived at Erbil Airport where Sirwan awaited me, and the next day we started a week of shooting. We began at the old minaret in Erbil and two days later we commenced our journey with a ride via the Gali Ali Beg and further east along the Hamilton road.
In Choman we left the paved roads and drove up a steep slope to arrive at a half frozen lake which offered magnificent views.
A group of Arab tourists were fighting the cold lighting fires at their picnic place while we, especially camera man Dlshad Jolla, were looking for the best angles to take pictures from. On we went, to Haji Omaran where on August 2, 1973 I had interviewed and photographed Mulla Mustafa Barzani.
Regrettably we had to abandon any plans to find the exact place or do any other outdoor shooting as snow was falling all around.
But in Rawanduz, the next morning, the team collected a lot of material.
At Sirwan’s request I donned the Kurdish suit which Mulla Mustafa had given to me, as well as to each of my six fellow travelers…
… and with the stunning gorge as a backdrop, told about that unforgettable experience. Impossible to put in words, even though I tried, was to describe his presence – he radiated energy and power – and the friendly piercing look in his eyes.
In Rawanduz we met the son of Said Jabar Said Aziz who ran the 19th century Old Teahouse there since 1954 till he died, a few years ago. In that memorable place, right on the edge of the gorge, I and my six friends from Holland had tea right before entering the area controlled by the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP) in 1973.
During most of my trips after that I went to the teahouse to meet Said - until 2008 when it was gone, demolished to make room for road widening. Said’s son now runs a new Old Tea House, very close to the original edition, where dozens of portraits of patrons who passed away brighten the walls and where men are playing trick-track, just as in 1973.
The most exciting part of our tour of 1204 kilometers led to Garmiyan. I had not been there since July 1992. My guide and driver during that journey, Aref Omar Gull, now a very successful businessman, had brought me to the ruins of his village, Hashizeni. That in itself had been very memorable, but the most thrilling event was our visit to the nearby cave were Hamarash (1957-1991) and a few dozen Peshmerga held out during the Anfal.
Guided by one of these amazing men, Hunar, we went to the cave where everything looked as if the Peshmerga could return any moment: food supplies, primitive beds, clothing and more all reminded of that most astonishing and brave campaign.
And now, 32 years later, I was there again! And so was Aref. And so was Hunar. Also present were the three children of Hamarash, Rojan, Karuch and Kezwast.
The weather was gorgeous, so was the deserted landscape and for three and a half hours we entertained ourselves shooting for Rudaw, including interviews with the children of Hamarash and Hunar, and chatting. Tea was made on an improvised fire, the daughters of Hamarash had made delicious cakes, birds flew all around, the first flowers of Spring adorned the raw, grassy ground, a brook from which Hunar had collected water at night during his years in the cave rambled over the rocks.
Aref and I didn’t even consider to climb the steep slope to the cave and even less to get inside, we just looked at the place of our adventure in 1992.
A week after I left Holland I was back again, filled with fresh memories of a country where I had not been to for too long. Now the wait is for the program which Rudaw is currently putting together from the long hours of filming. I am looking forward to the broadcasting.
Michiel Hegener is a Dutch journalist, photographer, and author of "The Kurds of Iraq."
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Rudaw.
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