theneverendingasia

Many small coincidences have taken me to Choman in northern Iraq. Yesterday me and my new travel buddy, Matt, met an Iraqi family. After talking they invited us to their house. We couldn't say no, plus, this was not part of my plans making it even more attractive.

We had just finished dinner, home made dolma. I didn’t ask for it, but they must have read my mind. My favourite ottoman food.

Avin asked us if we would like to talk with the rest of the women. They want to know more. As we mumble the words "of course", an army of colourfully dressed women came into the room of handmade carpet. Matt and I are facing fifteen women from teenagers to grandmas. Their eyes focused on us!

Their questions reveal their eagerness to learn of the outside world. How we live our lives, see our futures, families and friends. They listen to us trying to figure out what we are saying. Avil translates as they continue building in their minds our lives.

They fight to ask, they laugh, they debate, probably what's proper to ask, while we listen and enjoy, probably looking with the same faces when we were talking. We try to decipher their expressions, analyzing the tone of voice, to know what they want to ask before they do.

They ask about religion, having never met anyone with other beliefs. The other big topic is women. How are their clothes, if they work or how old when they marry. Some laughs, red faces and complicit smiles of the older ones. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

They find it difficult to understand what we are doing there. It’s a dead end for foreigners, Iran's border is near but not possible to cross. We explain that we were curious and we show them the name of their town in a guide book, generating wide opened surprised eyes and laughs.

I feel happy to be here. They ask, they tell, they reveal themselves in total sincerity.

They decide they have asked too much, thank us for sharing our lives. We thank them knowing they don’t realized how interesting it’s been for us.