My last 5 days included 5,000 miles of flying and more than 300 miles of driving. I went from a photography awards ceremony and reception at the National Geographic Society in DC, followed by a gallery opening and a meeting with the Senior Photo Editor at National Geographic the next day, to a red-eye flight back to the west coast to shoot a 50th Wedding Anniversary party in Seal Beach and then to Santa Barbara to attend one of my good friends wedding receptions. At least I'm keeping busy...

I wanted to send out a quick update to let everyone know that I received the Award of Distinction (aka 2nd place) in the Travel Category at FotoweekDC! My winning photo (above) will be on display all week at the Fotoweek Central 1 Gallery in Georgetown if anyone is in the area.

Washington DC was a whirlwind of a two-day trip. I did a little of the touristy sightseeing including the Mall and all of it's monuments and the National Cathedral. But, the second day led to the most valuable part of the whole trip. I realized that one of the judges - the Senior Photo Editor at National Geographic - was also a friend of my photojournalism mentor Rick Meyer. I couldn't find an email address for her so I ended up sending her a message through Facebook. She wrote back right away and agreed to give me ten minutes of time at 1pm.

It was by no means an earth shattering event that would lead to my life as a National Geographic photographer, but I did get some good advice from an amazing photographer and editor. Mainly: 1) do your homework before starting a story. You need to know what the story is before going and shooting aimlessly. The narrative is more important than the single photo. 2) Find a niche market in photography and do it better than anyone else. For me, she got very excited when I told her that my background is in archaeology. Apparently, there are only a few photographers in the world that they can call on for that specialized field.

Hope and Reflection Revisited

I also just wanted to let everyone know that I will be giving a follow-up lecture at the Badé Museum in Berkeley on December 3rd at 5:30PM. This talk will focus on my experiences this previous summer photographing Kurdish refugee camps in Iraq. There will be a one-hour lecture and slideshow with a reception to follow. Hope to see some of you there!

A Brief History of the Syrian Kurds

The Syrian Kurds living at the Moqoble Refugee Camp are officially recognized by the UNHCR as stateless. They have no citizenship. No country. No home.

They are a group of Kurds that fled Syria in March of 2004, after riots broke out stemming from a football match resulting in the deaths of dozens of their friends and family. Prior to leaving, they were among the more than 200,000 Kurdish people officially recognized by the UNHCR as stateless living in Syria. The county had stripped the majority of Kurds of citizenship in 1962.

The Moqoble Refugee Camp was first established for arabs fleeing the Saddam regime, but in 2004 the camp was converted for Syrian Kurds. Since 2004, 44 families consisting of about 600 people call these winterized tents home.

Abdulaziz Muhammed Rasho

Abdullaziz is 53 years old and has been living at Moqoble since the second wave of refugees arrived in July of 2004. In the chaos and riots that ensued after the football match in Syria, Mr. Rasho and his wife were separated from their five children and forced to leave them behind. Here is his story of being forced out of Syria and life within the camp:

- View more photos from this trip -

Above: Akre District, Iraq - Grdasin IDP Camp - A view of the Grdasin IDP Camp. The camp was established in 2006 for Kurds forced to flee Mosul due to increased threats and violence.

I set out this summer to look at refugee camps in the Kurdistan Region of Iraq. Based on my experiences from last summer, I expected to spend at least a week just setting up meetings and securing the proper permissions etc. Then, if I was lucky, I thought that I would gain access to maybe a couple camps over the two weeks that I was in country.

As I described in my last entry however, my postmodern entrance into a premodern reality worked out incredibly in my favor. Over the last two weeks I have been lucky enough to visit five camps and could have gone to more. I have looked at Kurdish refugees and asylum seekers from Turkey, Syria, and Iran, and internally displaced Kurds from Mosul.

I have seen everything from a youth group practicing traditional dance to a six year old boy that has been addicted to smoking for two years.

I have been asked questions ranging from "Can you help get me a passport to meet my family in Germany?" to "Can you bring this paperwork stating that my husband is infertile to the United States to get medicine so that he will not leave me?"

But most of all, I have seen and experienced a wide range of people, living situations, and attitudes towards life that have left me deeply vested in the future of the people in these camps.

First a little general info

There are four types of displaced people living in Iraq:

Refugees: Officially recognized and documented by the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) as "people who are outside their country of nationality or habitual residence, and have a well-founded fear of persecution because of their race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion."

Asylum Seekers: Are individuals seeking refugee status from the UNHCR, but have not been officially granted the designation. They generally have the same level of support and rights from the UNHCR as refugees until their application is officially accepted or denied.

Internally Displaced Person: An IDP is someone who has been forced to move from his or her home - in this case due to conflict or persecution - but remains within their country of origin.

Stateless Person: Simply put, "someone who is not considered as a national by ANY state."

In Iraq, there are currently around 2.8 million people displaced in one or more of the above categories. The vast majority, around 2.4 million are internally displaced. However, only about 11% of this number are living in camps or public buildings. The rest are living with families or rented accommodations.

Officially supported by the UNHCR in the Kurdistan region, there are more than 245,000 IDP's, 15,000 Turkish Kurd refugees, 10,000 Iranian Kurd refugees, and 150 Syrian Kurd refugees. More than 1,000 Syrian Kurds are recognized as asylum seekers, with an additional 625 Iranian Kurds.

Makhmoor Refugee Camp

The first camp that I visited, Makmoor, referred to by locals as the "PKK camp," is home to around 11,000 Turkish refugees. While not militant themselves, many openly have ties to the organization. The UNHCR has a policy against supporting anyone that is actively associated with a terrorist organization. However, if they have openly laid down their weapons and become a peaceful people, the organization will support them.

After a short drive through the dust filled town of Makhmoor, about 45 minutes from Erbil, my translator, Leo, and I came upon the large security barriers that formed a maze before coming to the first guard. I promptly got yelled at for taking a photo of the UNHCR flag at the gate, which led to a traditional Kurdish yelling match in which I can never quite tell who is winning. Until, invariably, whoever I am with will turn to me and say "OK. Everything is OK."

Inside, we were greeted by a hesitant Director that said he had no idea how we were granted access to visit the camp. It was not until I found out that the Director's name was Ahmed Dizayee that his attitude changed. Once I told him that I am friends with the miracle Kurd and his family I was immediately treated as a welcomed guest. The Director proceeded to talk to me for an hour about the history of the camp and the people there.

After the talk, we were introduced to a representative of the people in the camp. He took us to the next building where we sat and had our third or forth glass of tea for the day - one that definitely would not be the last. I looked around the largely empty room that I was now in - a few couches, a hole in the wall for the air conditioner, and only two things on the wall: a UNHCR flag and a picture of the former PKK leader Abdullah Ocalan. When I told this to Charles Lynch, the Director of UNHCR operations in Northern Iraq, he was visibly surprised and ceased to go into any further details other than "I didn't know that was there. They definitely shouldn't being doing that."

Unfortunately, by the time we got through all the formalities and began walking around the camp it was noon. For those of you that haven't been to the Middle East, at noon... it's hot. During midday most people stay inside their homes, and at that time of day, walking around the camp was eerily like walking around a surprisingly well developed ghost town. The camp was actually nicer than most villages that I have visited in the region.

Since no one was outside, I asked if we could visit a family. We were quickly invited into the home of Siso Saleem, a 55 year old father of eight. Sensing my surprise about the number of kids, he instantly responded with, "We must have many children. Some to end up in Turkish prisons, some to join the PKK, some to be educated, and some to take care of the home."

When Mr. Saleem first came to Makhmoor in 1998, he worked as a laborer for $0.20 a day. Since then, through saving and with the help of the UNHCR and the Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG), he was able to build his family a home - something that took three phases to complete.

His wife and two daughters proceeded to lay out a large feast of rice and vegetables. Again in portions that surprised me as not the stereotypical image of a refugee camp.

The majority of the development of the camp has happened within the last several years through the help of the UNHCR and the KRG. The camp is still growing at a rate of 100-200 people a year, plus around 300 new births. Each new family is required to build their own home, but the community now supplies the tools and supports in the construction. The camp has five schools and it's own hospital.

When I asked if they want to go back to Turkey, they say that they of course do, however they have a list of demands. These include: full amnesty for past activity, their POW's in Turkey released, villages reconstructed, and the rights to teach their schools in Kurdish. In other words, it looks like Makhmoor is not going away anytime soon.

Grdachal Refugee Camp

The Grdachal camp was the complete polar opposite to Makhmoor. Twenty-two families consiting of more than 120 people living in a old converted school house, Grdachal is a stark alternative to their former lives in Iran. The residents of this camp were forced to flee Iran around 1980 and lived for 20 years in mountainous border regions fighting the Iranian government. Now, they have no possibility of ever returning and a bleak future at Grdachal.

Unlike the people at Makhmoor, the refugees at Grdachal have lost hope. When asked what they wanted, they didn't even have a trace of ambition. They responded only with, "We don't know anymore. All we know is that we want a better life than here." They complained about the facilities (in one case, four families are forced to share the old schoolyard bathroom - a room that smelled so bad I almost had to immediately walk out) and they talked about how they do not even have the opportunity to work because they are located too far from any city.

Tara Saifulla, 17, sat quietly in the corner next to her mother as my translator interpreted what the men of the camp were saying. Finally, a soft "Please, may I speak?" came from Tara. She had learned english by reading a dictionary and watching TV. I was visibly surprised as she had been sitting there silent for at least 30 minutes. She proceeded to tell me of their plight in no uncertain terms and then told me of her mother and her need for a heart surgery that is not possible in Iraq. They openly asked for my help, and I have since spoken to several people about her mother's case. However, every humanitarian organization that I have spoken to which provides heart surgeries do not even want to look at her case because she is 33 years old - after 18 the success rate is too slim.

Moqoble Refugee Camp

After these two camps, I decided that it was time to return to Dohuk and to the camp that I initially visited during my trip last summer. Moqoble Refugee camp was established in 2004 for Syrian Kurds. I will get into their story in more detail in my next post, but Syrian Kurds by far are faced with the worst situation of all the Kurdish region. Currently, there are over 200,000 stateless Kurds living in Syria without citizenship or any rights.

The Moqoble Camp consists of more than 40 families that arrived after July of 2004. They live in winterized tents, or tents with cinderblock walls to make it livable during the winter season.

It was at this camp that I saw the six year old smoker and was asked the questions "Can you help get me a passport to meet my husband in Germany?" and "Can you bring this paperwork stating that my husband is infertile to the United States to get medicine so that he will not leave me?"

Again, the cause of the Syrian Kurds is something that I would like to talk about in much more detail, so I will hold off on this camp until the next post.

Azadi IDP / Refugee Camp

The Azadi camp is composed of many different people. Originally a training area for Saddam's army, the houses have since been converted to homes for Internally Displaced People (IDP's) from cities such as Mosul and Baghdad, as well as many outlying towns and villages. Toward the back of the Azadi Camp are 88 houses that were built for the original arrivals at the Moqoble Camp.

While not quite to the level of development of Makhmoor, this camp still was much closer to the feeling of a small village.

Grdasin IDP Camp

Grdasin was established in April of 2006 for Kurdish people forced to leave their homes in Mosul due to increased threats and violence. At it's height, the camp was home to over 200 families. Now hovering around 100 families consisting of over 800 people, the camp is little more than a temporary solution at best. It is comprised of a mashup of tents and simple cinderblock construction. Small gardens for fresh vegetables line the sides of these simple homes. Conditions within the camp lead to frequent illnesses, especially among the the children and elderly. And employment is again hard to come by as the camp is located far outside any major city.

My visit here was an interesting experience in itself. Sirwan Dizayee, Kamiran the Miracle Kurd's brother and General Manager of the Erbil Governorate, once again made a call on my behalf to the local mayor to secure access. When I arrived at the camp, the mayor was there waiting with four armed guards that quickly turned into an entourage of about 20 people. All following me throughout the streets of the camp and waiting as I walked in and out of people's single room homes. It was quite the spectacle.

Update on the Dizayee Tribe

Under unfortunate circumstances - a member of the tribe recently passed away - I finally met the chief of the miracle kurd's branch of the Dizayee tribe. It was an amazing experience. I walked into the grassy yard of the chief's home - a large rectangular space lined on all four sides with plastic lawn chairs - each filled with a member of the tribe. Immediately everyone stood up as I walked around the rectangle shaking each one's hand. I was then escorted to the position of honor - the seat next to the chief of the tribe.

It was fascinating to see the intricacies of the respect system that has been established centuries ago within their family. While the chief of the family has been a farmer all of his life, he was surrounded by doctors, lawyers, and even the Kurdistan Minister of Justice. Yet, all the reverence within the community still fell upon the chief. There was a clear hierarchy however, or at least clear levels of respect.

Anytime a new member of the tribe entered, they were either greeted with a simple wave from the rectangle, or if a certain age or social position, everyone would immediately stand. For the Kurdistan Minister of Justice, they immediately stood. And, when he tried to make a quick exit, about 10 Dizayees scurried after him. No doubt to pay some sign of respect or arrange some kind of inner tribe business deal. I have a distinct feeling that a lot of business is conducted, and stays, within the family...

Above: Erbil Province, Iraq - Grdachal Refugee Camp - Tara Saifulla, 17, stands next to what was once a classroom's chalkboard. She jokes that it is her computer. Tara learned english by herself by reading a dictionary and watching television.

The real prize from the Microsoft Contest

Most of you probably remember the Microsoft contest that I was involved with a while back. Well, as I said when the results were announced, the most important thing that would come from the contest would actually be the connections and publicity that the project received. This has definitely proven true.

Kamiran Dizayee, aka the miracle Kurd, came through with flying colors - while never leaving his home in London. He connected me with his brothers Chatto and Sirwan. Chatto is a General Contractor in Erbil and Sirwan is the General Manager at the Erbil Governate. Both of whom are very well known within the community. Sirwan especially, was incredibly helpful with gaining access to the camps. One call from him was pretty much all I needed to get local mayors and village muktars (leaders) to jump to my aid.

At the Governorate in Erbil, the general public has to enter from the side gate and pass through two security points. On my last day in Erbi however, I was walking past the main gate and entrance reserved for the government big shots. As I was passing it, I heard a "Hello! Mr. Jon!" The taxi driver that took me to the camp the day before was now a Traffic Police Officer in front of the Governorate. He immediately walked me straight into the front door and into the office of Sirwan. This kind of access is insane and something I would never have imagined.

Later, when I told Sirwan over dinner at the night club (In Erbil, the night club is basically an outdoor park restaurant with lawn furniture and beer. Men only.) that I wanted to go visit some camps near Dohuk, he immediately called his old school yard buddy, now the General Manager for the Governorate of Dohuk. He told him that I was a "very important person" and to take care of anything that I needed. Kordu Harki, complied and I was greeted with the full support of the government in Dohuk. They even gave me a car and driver.

The Power of Facebook

Also through facebook, I met another member of the Dizayee tribe. Hussein Dizayee is a 24 year old HR Director for an American NGO in Erbil. He reached out to me on Facebook after seeing my project and told me that he would be happy to help me with anything that I needed while in Erbil. While I was admittedly hesitant, I figured why not and gave him a call. He became a great friend. His friends and I ended up hanging out almost every night.

One night, we were hanging out at the Speed Center, a bar that is as American as any back home (complete with US Army hanging out in full uniform), when we met a Kurd with Canadian Citizenship who had been living in Florida. Shaun joined our group and we hung out with him as well for the next couple days. That night was actually pretty weird. Shaun was friends with an American girl named Sara (my sister's name), who was there with a coworker named Tory (my girlfriend's name), and then we found out that Hussein and I share the same birthday!

Another random Facebook connection was a girl named Tracy Fuad. She sent me a message on Facebook the other day telling me that she is going to be coming out to the Kurdistan Region for the first time and was looking for advice. She turned out to be a journalism student at Medill and is now going to be helping teach for Tiziano while in the region!

The Personal Touch

This is very much a culture of who you know. In Erbil, Hussein setup a meeting for me with his boss to discuss possible collaboration with the Tiziano Project. Hal, an American from New York who has been in and out of the Middle East for five years, in turn recommended me to Mohammed at IREX. IREX is much more up the alley of Tiziano in regards to teaching media and technology. Mohammed agreed to let Tiziano use IREX's computer lab to teach after school programs if we can make it back to Erbil.

Beyond that though, Mohammed is from Dohuk and goes back there every weekend. I told him that I was going there to look at more camps and asked if he could recommend anyone to help translate. He referred me to Halez, a Kurdish woman that speaks perfect english. He neglected to tell me however, that she happens to work for a local NGO that helps refugee camps! She knew a ton about the region and was a great help. Her boss even let her have the day off because of what I was doing and also because he too is a friend of Mohammed.

The following day, Halez was not able to spend the day with me. So my friend Mike, who I am staying with here in Dohuk, referred me to his friend Serdar. Serdar turned out to be a high school principal with a big heart. In the end he really wants to work with the Tiziano Project and is hoping to help us in the camps as well as possibly brining the program to his own high school.

The polarity of a postmodern vs. premodern world

This whole post has been about the miscellaneous connections that I have been lucky enough to have made during this trip. However, Hal the New Yorker from Hussein's company, pointed out an interesting polarity between the way they developed. Without Facebook, I would never have met anyone from the Dizayee family. However, it was the Dizayee family's real life connections with school yard friends and the personal calls that people have made to others on my behalf that has made the bulk of this trip a reality. Even Tracy, who contacted me on Facebook, later met with Tory in person in Chicago (they both go to Medill), to get the low down on Tiziano.

It's bizarre the way the world is becoming more connected when a photographer from Los Angeles can virtually meet a Kurd living in London, who then calls his brother in the government in Erbil, who then calls the Mayor of a local province, who then calls a local Muktar, who then takes me personally to visit twenty-two families living in a converted schoolhouse in the village of Grdachal. Los Angeles to Grdachal. From eight million people to twenty-two families in a school house in Grdachal. Using a postmodern technology to gain access to a premodern world.

Sidenote on the Dizayee Tribe

The Dizayee Tribe is one of the biggest families in the Erbil Province. The way I like to describe them is this: Imagine everyone with the last name Smith knowing exactly how they are related to each other and being willing to help anyone that is a friend of the family.

I'm still not clear on the exact history, and any Dizayee that is reading this, please feel free to correct this or add to it via comments, but the Dizayee tribe originally came from a town in Iran by the same name. The tribe is divided into four branches. Each roots back to one of four brothers that originally left the town and headed to the Erbil region. Each branch of the tribe has a chief, who members of the branch regularly go to to pay their respects.

Now, the Dizayee tribe is the largest and most well known family in Erbil. I was in the market the other day, looking at carpets. The guy pointed at one and said Dizayee. He didn't speak much english, but when I said Chatto and Sirwan and made a gesture of friendship, the price of the carpets immediately dropped 20%.

Above: "Welcome to the Iraqi Kurdistan Region" sand a Kurdish flag await you at the border crossing into Iraq from Turkey.

For anyone looking to vacation in Kurdistan, here is drill:

1) Bus it from Diyarbakir to Cizre or Silopi

If you are entering from Southeast Turkey, from Diyarbakir catch a bus to either Cizre or Silopi. Silopi is about 40km closer, but the bus doesn't go there until noon. I suggest catching the 8:30am bus to Cizre and trying to share a taxi to the border with other people from the bus. Most people will be going there. The bus to Cizre was 18 Lira (about $15).

2) Take a taxi from Cizre or Silopi to the border

The taxi driver will take care of everything, so be sure to find one that you trust your passport with. The fare from Cizre to the border was 15 Lira (about $12).

3) Crossing the border

First you have to cross the Turkish check point and get your exit visa. Second, you will come to the Kurdistan Visa Office where your passport will be thrown onto a pile with 30 others. If you are American, they are currently making you visit a doctor due to the swine flu. This consisted of a doctor taking my temperature from my cheek and asking, "Are you sick?"

They might ask you a quick question about why you are going to Kurdistan, but this time they just let me in. I think it was because I already had my stamp from last year.

After this, the taxi driver needs to file some paperwork and then have the car inspected.

Once across the border, the taxi will drop you off at the taxi garage. There is a cafeteria here, but I would probably stick to the rice and beans. From there, you can catch a taxi to anywhere you are looking to go. Remember though that shared taxis are cheaper and a very common method of transportation. Basically the car is one price to go from one city to another whether it is you alone or split three or four ways.

4) And finally, the Residency Visa...

The bane of my existence in Kurdistan. if you are planning to stay in the region for more than ten days, you need to obtain a residency visa. This process took two full days last year in Sulaimaniyah with the help of a Kurdish person. However, I recommend that you go on your own to the Residency Office in Erbil. The fact that I had an American Passport and didn't speak any Kurdish got me in and out of the office in two hours!

No matter what though, it will be a crazy maze of office visits, stamps, and signatures. Here is what I went through this trip to give you an idea:

Entrance desk - Looked at my passport and documents. Told me to go get photocopies of specific pages.

Photocopy desk - Made three photocopies

Back to Entrance Desk - The guy filled out paperwork on me and sent me to Room 21

Room 21 - Got a folder to which the initial paperwork was stapled. Sent to Room 14

Room 14 - Got a stamp and a signature on the new folder. Sent to Cpt. Haller in Room 11

Room 11 - Got a stamp and a signature on the initial paperwork. Sent to Room 21

Room 21 - Simply labeled "Interrogation." Was asked "Why you are here?" Then told to wait outside. Twenty minutes later, a soldier wearing fatigues with a Harley Davidson patch on the shoulder where you would normally find military insignia, gave me back my folder and sent me to Room 6

Room 6 - Had more of a formal interview asking questions regarding my education, job, and marital status. Sent to Room 3

Room 3 - Finally got a stamp in my Passport, but was then given a piece of paper and sent to Room 8

Room 8 - Paid a few dollars for the stamp. Sent back to Room 3

Room 3 - Given my Passport back. Sent to Room 19

Room 19 - A soldier takes my folder and Passport and enters a room. Ten minutes later he returns, hands me my passport, and says "Tammam" (OK).

There has to be a more efficient way.

Above: Bootlegged DVD's for sale in Erbil, Iraq. DVDs are sold for between $0.80 and $1.50 and new releases are usually available within days.

Time is already flying by, but so far I am on schedule. I only spent a night in Istanbul and a day in Diyarbakir on the way out here, because I new that getting all the permissions in the Kurdistan Region of Iraq (KRG) would take some time, but I already have my work permit, residency visa, and a meeting with a local mayor for tomorrow!

"Almost everyone that you talk to [in Kurdistan] has been displaced at some point in their lives."

Yesterday, I met with Mr. Abdulsalam Abdulla, the Public Relations Officer for the Kurdistan Democratic Party (not to be confused with Mr. Salam Abdullah in Sulaimaniyah). He was incredibly helpful, as always, and set me up with a work permit that authorizes me to work as a journalist within the KRG.

We had a two hour long conversation (much to my cab driver's chagrin) that was very informative and eye opening. Mr Abdulla pointed out that almost everyone I meet in Kurdistan has been displaced at some point during there lives. His eyes started to tear up a little when he confessed that he himself has had to pick up and move five or six times in his life - leaving everything he owned and knew behind.

Hearing this from him really hit me, because it made the situation much more real. Mr. Abdulla is a very well educated man, now with an important position within his party, and yet, even he has been displaced several times throughout his life at the hands of others. I had no idea that it was such a widespread issue that has effected so many people over the decades.

We talked a lot about the current situation for Kurds throughout Turkey, Iraq, Syria, and Iran and what he hopes to see as a future for the Kurdish people. Relations still remain tense between many of the governments involved, however, it does seem like progress and headway is slowly being made - in some regions more clearly than others.