Friday morning; stillness.
On my lanai listening to the birds. Only birds. Birds and Chinese Fan Palms. Two ghost apartment buildings standing like skeletal monoliths standing guard. Pigeons, squatters, take refuge there. Twenty four floors I count in each. I wonder what their story is.
I spy street kitties. One is darting underneath parked cars, traversing its hunting grounds perhaps. I wonder what they hunt. Finally a meow! A woman that lives in the building walking her dog passes by said kitty.
I spy a car parallel parking. A five-minute endeavor. Fascinating. Going on month three here in KRD, I've made some observations. There are a lot of SUVs here. Gas must be cheap here... Certainly a hella lot cheaper than in Turkey. I didn't see a lot of SUVs there. The SUVs here aren't as massive as they are in the Gulf, but they do exist in abundance here. That is all, on pondering automobiles anyway.
I hear music off in the distance. If it's the cami, then the loudspeaker isn't working properly. This city, it's interesting. I wander the streets, almost feeling as if I'm cloaked, as I go about my business- whatever it might be. It feels normal, natural even.
Coffee. French roast with a hint of pecan wafts through the air. That first strong sip feels warm and supple against my lips. It's comforting. I'm not that person that needs it to function though. I am my father's daughter, in that I'm compelled to activate upon waking. Coffee helps to slow this process down. It gives me the time to simply chill for a while as I connect with my other characteristics that many times take a back seat because, well that's life. You gotta go to work, and in order to do that, you gotta plan your day, etc. Coffee serves as my 'just chill the fuck out for a few minutes and let your intuition sort out some things semi-consciously, so things will be pono (in balance)".
So, Suli here in the NW of the country lies in the foothills of the Zagros mountains. I'm currently re-reading The Epic of Gilgamish (I first read it when living in Bahrain), and Suli was the land of Zamua. The area dates back to The Flood and plays a prominent role, but in this (Sumerian) version Utnapishtim rids himself of all his possessions and builds The Preserver of Life, which lands atop Mount Nisir (thought today to be Pir Omar Gudrun here). After releasing all the animals, he and his wife are granted immortality.
As I understand it, The Lullutu lived in Zamua, predating Assyrian and Sassanian invasions (dating from 880 BC to the end of the 3rd century). Zaman became known as Sharizor. Under Ottoman control (17th century), it became Baban, named after its 'founding fathers'. There is some connection here to a family of Georgian Mameluks- but I haven't researched this, yet. This seems to be the starting point for Slemani's 'modern era'.
*why doesn't coffee stay warm forever*
There is some sort of walking tour of the historic houses of Slemani- which is next up on my list of sites to see.
The 'hood is starting to show signs of movement, it's now 9 am. I still hear music in the distance, along with the white noise of traffic. The birds do not accept taking back seat to the cacophony of sounds though.
Looking up, I spy the pigeons roosting onside their austere-grey skeletal alcoves spying down across the land just doing their thing. In this moment I feel the sun warming up the land of Zamua. Taking off my hoodie, I'm ready to soak up the stories that might offer up in whispers.