Rooftop Bar, Dilshad Palace Hotel, Duhok. October 2019
Everyone needs to unwind
An enterprising young Lebanese Christian, RA, saw the potential of the unused rooftop rooms at the Dilshad Palace Hotel and created "the Rooftop Bar". Compared to the rest of the bars in town, it was pricey, but he was catering to a more upscale crowd. The views over Duhok and the mountains through two large walls of windows were excellent. The local bars could be a little overwhelming, rather claustrophobic, and were definitely a "no go" for single women. A lot of the Rooftop customers were expats like me - most of them foreign aid workers.
I visited the bar only once a week - it was expensive AND too much of a good thing makes anyone bored eventually. In the good weather, there was a small outside balcony that overlooked Mazi Dreamland - Duhok's small amusement park. "Dreamland" sat across from a maximum security prison built in Saddam's time. Those days it kept the most "dangerous" of all prisoners in the Kurdish region. I met a guy who did a short tour of being a guard there and he joked with me that the prisoners' rooms looked out on Mazi Dreamworld as part of the punishment, just to make them feel worse.
I loved to arrive at the Rooftop early - get my healthy bar snacks {See: bar snacks} and whiskey - and catch the sunset or early evening lights. I never stayed late and tried to leave before the place became too crowded. A favorite venue of some of my work colleagues, I rarely joined the crew because being with them all day at the university was enough together time for me. I was, in short, a grumpy old man and I often chuckled inside at the impression I gave. RA the owner was a great guy and became a friend. I knew all the waiters and they were kind to me always. The place was wonderful, except when it wasn't. Maybe it was not the expense or fear of getting tired of it that kept me away.
Rooftop was one of the hangouts for the foreign aid workers. Near Duhok some of the largest Syrian and Iraqi refugee camps had been set up. Refugee camps required a lot of "outside experts" from the UN and a host of other aid international organizations to function. These "helpers" patronized Rooftop and proudly spoke of what they had accomplished that day or how it compared to other past refugee camps ("those were REAL refugees"). They considered themselves consummate "do-gooders" and would not hesitate to let anyone know it.
I worked at the university, lived in modest "local" apartment, took a public taxi every day, walked all over town, ate at local restaurants -- in short, other than the fact I lived in Duhok, Iraq, my life was about as normal and vanilla as could be. Surprisingly, the aid workers lived in luxury housing, had cars and drivers, travelled everywhere with security escorts, and, even during the height of the coronavirus lockdowns, were free to walk and drive everywhere because of their special status. I was not envious - truly I was not - I was flabbergasted. So much money was spent on these "helpers" to keep them in luxury and "security" in a city where life was about as normal as it could be AND YET they were tasked to work with extremely poor people who desperately needed help. "Out of touch" does not even begin to describe the living situation of the "do-gooders".
AND, most of these people had "fallen into" their jobs. They did not hold any sort of special qualifications (I am not even sure what qualification would be relevant) to work with refugees or the internally displaced. Most had accidentally fallen into a system that was self-perpetuating through world conflict and where prior experience always guaranteed a future job. Young, Western adventurers in the right place at the right time become world saviors - woo hoo - many of their stories read just like that. Oh, they were paid more than I was, too - and my salary was not bad in Iraq. Clearly, I was in the wrong field. Until now, I am not sure what they even did at camps except show up and tell the residents what they should be doing (??). WMF, a dear local friend, himself a displaced person, had a very low opinion of these "helpers". At least, he said, they tipped well.
They came to the Rooftop to unwind, as we all did. Living in a luxury apartment with a car and driver and telling people what they should do all day took a terrible toll on them, apparently. I do not doubt they faced incredible human suffering on a daily basis, but what succor did they provide these poor souls who lost everything? Since the leader of the ruling clan in Kurdistan set up my university, we university folk were constantly berated by the "do-gooders" for working for such a corrupt organization with corrupt leadership and worse yet, for teaching students of corrupt business people. Ummm, yeah, right. Zooming around Duhok in black SUVs with drivers and security, living in very comfortable places - perhaps better than back home, receiving fat paychecks, and providing no real "aid" to anyone was not part of a much larger, darker corruption?
So that was the Rooftop Bar at Dilshad Palace Hotel (which, by the way, was owned by one of my student's family). I loved the view, the service, the drinks - it remains one of my best memories of Duhok. The customers, however, left a bad taste. The local drunk guys at Efes Beer Cafe might have been occasionally rude and boisterous, but they were real. I spent far more time there. Alas, the Rooftop is no more and RA has moved with his family to Erbil, Iraq to pursue another dream. Only Mazi Dreamland (also owned by one of my student's family) remains.
NB: one big exception to my observation of NGO/Aid workers was MSF (Doctors without Borders). They do fabulous work and gained a lot of my respect!!