From Stockholm to Hewler

[unitedkurdistan]

I remember the first time I set foot on Kurdish soil. It was boiling hot, we just had to pass the Turkish border control after several hours of waiting. The sun was high up in the clear blue sky and it was hard to breath. There was not a single drop of water to drink on the Turkish side of the border.

The year was 1996 and the Kurdish self-rule was fairly new.
I had never been in Kurdistan. I was born in Iran and when I was seven, we moved to Sweden. So this was the first time I would see my country. A country that I dreamed of, actually. Even though I had never set foot there before, I already had at 11 years written many poems about my desire to come home to Kurdistan. There are certainly a lot because I knew my grandfather, my father and all the men in the family were prepared to go into the death of the country I had never seen.

We had problems with the turkish passport police because I and three other siblings were born in Iran. They would not let us pass to the other side of the border because they felt that we were not Iraqis and because of that we had no purpose to go to Iraq. What kind of Karaj? Where is Karaj? Are you Iranian? Not only did my parents flee from southern Kurdistan to Iran because of Saddam Hussein, now, we were not even allowed to enter our country by the Turks. Ironically, the ground beneath our feet was Kurdistan and the turks didn't allow us to pass the border to southern Kurdistan. After alot of if and but we managed to get over to Southern Kurdistan. Each and one of us kissed the sign that read "Welcome to Iraqi Kurdistan," while Turkish soldiers were shaking their heads staring at us.

Today I sit on a plane in Stockholm and land in Hewler. The police do not even ask me why it says "Karaj" during birth in my passport. He knows very well. All these years we have been forced to open bag after bag meters after meters for every Turkish soldier who stood in the way. Road to Kurdistan have been difficult and anxious. Today, sixteen years after my first time in Kurdistan, it is so simple to me now. But now, there's no more reasons for me to stay in the Diaspora. Today I am a Kurdistani. I hope you will have as much use of my columns that I will have of this trip I do in my life.

Lailan Maronsi