Back in Erbil

Day one: I’m greeted by a dark, watery cold office. No electricity. The first day of this week is a holiday (the birthday of the prophet) so no one is working except for us. The streets are empty under a grey sky and I realize that here too January is the most depressing month. This time of the year - of every year since I started working abroad – I feel like quitting and moving back home. It will be cold, grey and depressing there too, but at least I will have my family and friends around, whose company I so much enjoy during the December holidays.

Day two: When I see the young Syrian girl running at me I only have time to give my hot coffee cup (more for warming my hands then for drinking) to my colleague before she crushes me into a hug that almost makes us both fall over. How can such a small, skinny child have such strength? She rattles excitingly in Arabic that I came back and introduces me to her friend – equally small and skinny and grinning shyly at me. We talk and laugh and when my little friends walk away I take up my coffee cup again and I notice she isn’t even wearing a coat.

Day three: snow came. In Erbil this means some gentle white flakes that become water as soon as they touch the ground. In the mountains outside Erbil, however, this means an icy layer of tick white snow covering everything in its path: the roads, the houses, the cars, the fruit stands, and the tents of the refugees. On the highest point of the road over the mountain the snowstorm is almost blocking our view. Families park by the side of the road to go out and take pictures of themselves smiling in the freezing wind, before quickly getting back into their warm cars. In the camp I ask my colleagues how the refugees are doing. Are there a lot of issues? Are people complaining about anything specific? Ones again I am surprised when they tell me: the refugees complain a little, the snow is uncomfortable, but most of them say: Alhamdulillah (thank God) we don’t have it as bad as in Lebanon.

Day four: an Italian trainer comes for a special project with some children from Kobane. Her training requires the children to use tablets. I am slightly sceptical…. These children can barely write and read; how can they use technology? As it turns out: they are better than I am! Quickly and effortlessly do they pick up everything. Despite the cold they are enjoying themselves and proudly present the results at the end of the training.

Day five: In the evening, during a dinner with the trainer, she asks me and my colleagues: ‘so, what do you do in the weekends around here?’ We glance at each other. ‘Not much…’
‘You go out?’
‘Neuh there isn’t much.’
‘You make dinners at your house?’
‘Nah we don’t like to cook.’
‘You take trips in the area?’
‘Not in this weather.’
‘So what do you do in the weekends?’
‘We work…. And we sleep…. A lot!’
‘What an exciting life you have….’