Bazaar Erbil

Today was our first full day in Erbil, the capital of Kurdistan in Iraq. It's been a relatively easy day. We were supposed to check out teaching facilities this morning, but a misplaced key meant that we couldn't get into our offices so the trip was off. We took advantage of the mishap to take a day off and do a little sightseeing (otherwise, in case you haven't noticed, this job has NO days off).

I thought Suleimany was pretty hot and pretty dusty. However, Erbil outdoes it on both fronts. Temperatures easily top 115 every day and the air is perpetually hazy and the dust coats everything.

Erbil is substantially larger than Suleimany and feels more like a city, both in terms of its density and also the pace that people seem to move at. We all immediately noticed how much less friendly and open the people seem here than in Sule; definitely more of a big city vibe. I'm sure we'll discover their charms as well.

The whole city, as I noticed from the airplane landing here, is laid out in concentric circles around the ancient citadel. The citadel is a massive edifice; something like a cross between a moutain, fortress, and apartment building. I only walked around the market at its base, so I wasn't able to go up to the top, but it appears there's a whole small town up there, although all I could see were the walls and balconies of some of the outer apartments.

The hotel we are staying in is just a 15 minute walk from the center of town (assuming you'd want to walk in the heat). Marc, James and I decided to hit the bazaar and see what was going on there. When we left the hotel, we told one of the friendly bellboys where we were going and he became genuinely worried: "be careful there! You are foreigners!" Be careful of what? "Everything!" We proceeded with caution, but after about twenty minutes there he actually tracked us down and made himself our guide. It was a touching gesture, especially since it was clear that he didn't expect us to pay him-- he just wanted to keep an eye on us.

The market was as you might expect: a warren of narrow allies covered by corrugated tin. A lot of dreck but some really spectacular jewelry here and there and nice carpets and cloth work. I'm thinking of picking up some smaller throw rugs and maybe some of the Kurdish "rosaries"-- beaded necklaces which seem to be used for prayer just like their Catholic equivalents. In one antique shop, while Marc and James were haggling over some piece of jewelry, I spied, deep in a dusty and disorganized case, a miniature Jewish menorah. It looked kind of beat up and I thought I might be able to get it for a low price as an interesting memento. But when I pointed it out to the shopkeeper he stopped haggling, got serious, and said, "not for sale". When I pressed him, he said asking price was US$700. The thing was probably two inches high; I'd love to know the story of how it got there and why he was unwilling to sell it.

Being Jewish is an interesting issue here. John actually asked me not to tell the Kurds that I was Jewish, advice that eventually became difficult to follow. One of the translators for the organization is one-quarter Jewish and he begged me to keep it quiet. On the other hand, my translator told me that Suleimany had a Jewish quarter-- I was sorry that I didn't have time to visit!

Somewhat bad news on the medical front: the sulfur treatment appears not to have been terribly effective. The itching is back as bad as ever and is now accompanied by a new rash on my upper body and face (which was unaffected before and was not part of the treatment). So I may be back to square one. Did the scabies not respond to the treatment? Was it scabies in the first place? Am I having an allergic reaction to the myriad creams and chemicals I've been putting on myself, outside of the original itch? I've decided not to go back to a doctor unless I can get to an American one, simply so I can discuss the situation in detail and not deal with the language barrier.

As things are, I'm finding myself seriously considering cutting the trip short. The discomfort is such that I find it difficult to focus for very long, and in this session in Erbil, I will be doing things which will require a lot of planning and thought. Teaching a general musicianship class and a conducting class with no materials would be a challenge for me under the best of circumstances (I am much more comfortable in rehearsal and private lesson settings) and right now between the itching itself and the lack of sleep I am worried about being effective at all. It would be a terrible shame to go home early for something as minor as an itch but I am miserable enough to consider it. I'll be consulting with John tomorrow. It will be the first day of classes but largely administrative so I have a buffer before making a final decision. Cross your fingers for me-- I'd rather stay!