A few months ago I lay in a tent 10km from the Syrian border, feeling the ground quake as the coalition bombed ISIS throughout the night. From Mahser, the Kurdish village a mere 1km from Kobane, I saw smoke mushrooming out above the besieged city.
My account of the few days I spent at the edge of the war was recently published by In the Fray Magazine.
I also wrote a slightly different account on my other travel blog.
Of course, it’s never possible to include everything. I didn’t talk about Darlene’s birthday party, when her new friends surprised her with a birthday cake and a small band (see the video at the end of this post), and we stayed up dancing until the early hours. Unfortunately, the bottle of wine was confiscated, since it was considered bad taste for the locals to see us drinking.
I didn’t talk about the municipal worker we met in the distrubution centre while scooping lentils into bags, who was so desperate for an adventure that he semi-kidnapped H, another friend and I, and drove us to the city two hours away to buy us drinks in a restaurant with live music. He continuously messaged me on whatsapp in Turkish almost every day, until I finally blocked his number recently.
I didn’t mention, because I wasn’t able to describe, the complex mish-mash of emotions that I felt–and still feel–about being so close to a war; seeing the effects of it in such an immediate manner, and yet at the same time having fun, being welcomed, being able to go home–or in our case, move on towards a new home–when others around me have had their homes destroyed, their husband’s murdered, their wives and children taken away.
For now, I’ll leave you with some pictures.