Salam

So, as if the idea of going to Iran (on Ramazan) wasn't crazy enough on its own, we decided to kick off with the difficult bit: we went to Howraman valley, heart of Kurdish territory, close to Iraqi border. Mortar shell-range close. We were not kidnapped, shot or stabbed. We were however invited home for a night and later for a tea, twice.

People here speak different language than 20kms away and women wear colorful and complicated dresses somewhat resembling gypsy clothing. It's their only land that wasn't constantly sacked, plundered or burned by whoever was just passing by. The reason for that isolation is simple: remote location cut off by surrounding mountains - even modern(-ish) 4x4s struggle to negotiate unpaved roads consisting mostly of hairpins. Evidence is readily available: a pile of what used to be a 40-year-old Land Cruiser blocked the road having rolled some hundred meters downhill from a bend directly above just an hour before we passed. There was no blood inside and the victims had already been taken to the hospital - amazingly both of them survived. I helped to get some rice bags (together with cheaper-than-water petrol - the only kind of goods hauled around here) off the road.