From the Albertina Collection, Vienna. May 2019
Lalish Yazidi Temple, Duhok Province June 2020
[from FB post: May 3, 2019]
Revan
At the glitsy, five-star Rixos Hotel Duhok, I met the infectiously cheerful Revan. He is a Yazidi from a village half-way between Duhok and Mosul. He and his family escaped to Duhok during the ISIS occupation. He had been studying English Literature at Mosul University. He got a job at the Rixos because he could speak English.
After Mosul was liberated, his family returned to his village. Mosul University was rebuilt. He just graduated. His village is slowly being rebuilt although it is in "Iraq" as opposed to Kurdistan. That means life is harder and getting back to normal is a whole lot slower.
Revan loved to sit and chat with me during his short breaks because he rarely had time to speak with any English speakers other than taking their orders. The young man is a fountain of joy and optimism.
Me: So what happened when ISIS came to your village?
Revan: Oh sir, by the grace of God, we were warned ahead of time and we all ran away to Duhok.
M: How much time did you have?
R: An hour.
M: Did everybody make it out?
R: Yes, except the very old and sick people. They couldn't leave.
M: What happened to them?
R: When we returned, they were gone. No more information. No one knows.
I think that was one of the most chilling short conversations in my life.
WMF told me about the day that ISIS came to his town of Tel Keyf, Iraq and it was similar. There was very little warning. All the people left, ISIS ravaged the town just because it was Christian. When they could return, and his father Midhat did, everyone had to start from zero. A lot of outside aid poured in for people to try to rebuild the town, but most of the residents just didn't want to return or had restarted life elsewhere. In only a few months a centuries old city had been dealt a death blow - I still cannot fully grasp that, but that is the sad, oft-repeated reality of human history.
As a person who makes it a habit to restart life dramatically, twice because of force majeure, I feel for the people who go through this. Starting from zero only accompanied by ghosts of the past is draining and can consume a person. Any time there is a war and people are forcibly removed from their homes, this happens. Any time there is a natural disaster, it is the same terrible result - people must restart from nearly zero. Everyone is resilient - until they break. Broken towns are mended over years, over decades. Broken people are rarely, if ever mended. [see: vacant stares]