Small Miracles

Apologies once more for the missed day. I keep on being reminded how worried people get when I miss a day. I'm flattered by all the concern.

I was out very late last night. Naz, the woman who helped us through the visa process a couple days ago, invited us to come out to the countryside to see her family's farm. In the end, only Carole and I could make it. We drove some 15 miles outside of Erbil, then got off the main road and bumped for several more miles along a barely paved road. In the car were Naz, her husband Tahir, her two young sons (who are in Carole's children's theater program) and Raz, Naz's twin sister. The older of the boys was actually quite fluent in German (he's apparently addicted to German TV shows) so he and I did a lot of the talking and some of the translation ended up being Kurdish-German-English and back.

Their farm was a lovely spot. It was on slightly higher ground so there was a nice view back to the city of Erbil. In the other direction were the higher mountains that we crossed going to Suleimani. The area is fed by an underground river, and the family actually had built a retaining pool for the water that doubled as a swimming pool. The water was actually cold! A rarity in 115-degree Erbil! Immediately on getting there, the father and two boys stripped down to their undies and dove in. I was a little shocked that the men were so free about undressing near the ladies in conservative Iraq, but, egged on by the men and Carole, I followed suit and dove in. It was incredibly refreshing, and such an unexpected pleasure-- fresh cool water under the setting sun in the middle of the desert in Iraq!

After drying off (Carole threatened to hold my towel for ransom), we went on a little walking tour of the farm. They keep geese, a couple of cows and a small herd of goats. There was also a sizeable vegetable patch, and they inisted on picking samples for us to take back to the hotel. Tomatoes, cucumbers, gourds, olives, pomegranates, etc.

As it was getting dark, we headed back to the farmhouse, where a little repast was waiting. First was some delicious "yogurt water", a treat I hadn't had before. I guess it is a byproduct of the yogurt-making process, but it is a tasty drink, cool and milky, with a very slightly sweet taste and a yeasty edge. Absolutely delicious. Roz's husband had picked up several kinds of melon in town and we gorged on the melon and nan with yogurt water. Not exactly a full meal but delicious. We talked about how the festival was going (and Roz's son talked about his favorite German soccer teams at a pace I couldn't really keep up with) and then Carole and I wandered out to check out the stars-- we were far enough from the city that the sky was really studded. The clear skies, the sound of the goats chatting with each other, and the kids playing around made for a kind of prototypical rural family evening that really took us completely out of Iraq for a bit.

Today was the last day of classes and rehearsals. The morning musicianship classes were fine, a big unit on the minor keys. There was applause after each class and a girl presented me with a gift. Touching, as always. Conducting was fine, I taught the last pattern (when there was griping that I hadn't taught 5-, 6-, and 7- beat patterns I shamed them about how useless they were). I finished up with exhortations to listen to as much music as possible and resources for getting full orchestral scores online (obviously not readily available in Iraq).

The winds have miraculously pulled themselves together, at least more than I had been expecting two days ago. The clarinets are doing TWO pieces-- the rousing version of Old Joe Clark and a Beethoven minuet which tends to alternate between whispering and honking, but sounds kind of nice in between. The turkish music specialist still gets frustrated every class, but he came up to me today to let me know that he loved me (all the strugglers seem to do that) and I told him that he was my favorite, that's why I was giving him such a hard time. Big grin.

The trumpets horrible just two days ago. When I told John this morning that I was putting them on the program, he made a face and said he wanted to hear them first before he would approve. So he dropped by trumpet class today and I think he was a little shocked at the improvement. I was very proud of my guys. I call us the "b-team"-- Baghdad, Basra, and Boston! Frand (the Baghdad kid) and I have had a lot of fun-- he speaks good English and love to tell and hear jokes. Poor Omar does his best-- Frand translates some and we do a lot of facial expressions and sign language.

The flutes struggle and struggle, but we can get through their arrangement of Dona Nobis Pacem now-- and the singing is really something. Not perfect, but hearty and with great feeling. Two of the translators, Omar and Ahmed, are in such ecstasy about it (and have attended so many classes) that they have begged to be part of the chorus even though they don't sing. The other teachers are turning up their nose at the hokiness of it but I think it's going to be very effective. We'll see how it comes off at the concert tomorrow.

This evening Carol and I went down to the center to check out the market and specifically some musical instrument shops. We actually found one that was selling french horns! There were some that were made in Korea. Not the greatest, but playable and a student could use them (single F). No supplies for fixing my broken string, but I'll play the Mozart tomorrow night on the faculty concert again and just stay on the B-flat side. Apologies to Mozart and every horn teacher in Boston.

Amazingly, my time here is almost done. The music concert is tomorrow, the dance theater the next day, and we all leave on Monday. What a trip this has been!