A day on the mountain always offers more than a story to tell.

Yesterday I went to visit the Bestoon Cave on the Bradost Mountain. The cave – that according to the legend is so long to be endless – was discovered in 1951 and it is one of the Modern Stone Age sites that are around Kurdistan. It was a nice feeling to know that I was in Neanderthal Man’s house… To keep company to the ancient stone stalagmites and stalactites there were younger ones made of ice: transience and permanence one next to the other: different in substance and yet so similar in shape…

It was very suggestive: mountains here are so old that they force you to rethink the sense of time.

After visiting the caves, we continued roaming up and down the mountains: the snow added an extra layer of tranquillity. Around lunch time, we stopped to have a bite on a quiet spot on the side of the road with a stunning view of three different chains of mountains at the far end of the valley in front of us. A few minutes after we set up our picnic, a car honks and slows down. Nothing surprising about it because people here are always very curious about foreigners. Their call, though, was not a gesture of kindness, it was rather one of warning. ”Careful, landmines!”, they tell us. Not five minutes have passed when another car does the same. We look around and we realise that we have parked the car by a landmine field – the red flags that signal it are slightly hidden by the trees. After a cold shiver, this situation becomes the main subject of several bad jokes, including the concern about where to pee after lunch considering that no one wants to be blown up… it is fascinating how dry humour becomes a powerful means to face fear. We get back in the car and continue our exploration. We listen to a pretty unusual selectionof songs, including a Hawaiian reggae tune that goes: you’ve got to live Hawaiian style… nothing could be more strident than this in relation to the environment that surrounds us. The song actually begins the very moment we drive past another landmine field – this one is very big and prepared to be cleared. Inside the fence that limits the area I see a black squirrel running around unconcerned. Just outside the fence there is a herd of wild horses. The soundtrack gives the scene a surreal twist, yet is seems to clearly reveal the sense ofdisplacement I am feeling. There are things that seem so distant and yet they have become part of my daily life.

This morning I went to look for some information to try and understand the situation a little better. All over Iraq there are still 25 million unexploded landmines. in Kurdistan, that has started since 2002 a serious and constant de-mining campaign, there are still 716 mined villages and 2241 landmine fields – these figures make my head spin. Italy, it seems, found a way to make herself useful: in the late 1980s, during the Iraq-Iran war, she was one of the main mine exporters in Iraq.

- you like kebabs at 6 in the morning even if you are not drunk

- you think it is a good idea to fix a laptop with a hairdryer

- you think that the answer to how are you is thank you

- you have a soft spot for sandstorms

- you think that flairs are the last fashion

- you can’t leave without a thick moustache

- you believe that picnics are the most amusing activity on earth

- you fancy women wearing sequined polyester clothes and heavy make up

- you like to drive like drunk blindfolded sheep on acid

- you use industrial strength air freshener as deodorant

- you think the only decent building material is concrete

- your word for food is bread and your word for drink is eat

- you think pointy shoes are the way to the future

- you think mountains are Kurd’s best friends

- you sign all professional correspondence with beast regards

Written for Andy in a morning exchange with Melinda and Sebastian.

Un anno passa, un anno vola, un anno cambia faccia…..

It has been a long time since my last bulletin. Time runs fast and I often find myself chasing it.

Love has come, has gone away and maybe one day will come back.

Occasional friends change. I have been disillusioned by people I trusted, but new encounters have surprised me.

There is always a chat and a glass of wine; and there are new ways of feeling the cycle of time and season.

The two students who walked up and down the university yard in a magnetic game of gazes are still doing it, their longing made sweeter by its impossibility, desire and the passing of time.

Two other students got officially engaged. They came to my office to break the news: they were smiling and carrying a tray of baklavas. They now walk around holding hands: openly and light-heartedly.

We had the elections of the new Student Union and there has been a major change: we now have two girls in the executive committee. Girls ran for the first time for offices that were not solely concerned with women’s affairs. It is an amazing step ahead that fills me with joy and pride.

Sandstorms are less frequent and less yellow. They come suddenly can cover everything with a sleepy layer of melancholy.