Went to the border of Iraq and Turkey this morning. There is a sign or a small something. Maybe a town at the border called Habur. There was a line of petro trucks about 1 kilometer long waiting to enter. I am told they take Liquid Propane Gas and Benzene into the country and return with crude oil. This is not confirmed. Just and interpretation by Turkey man.
I got in a colectivo taxi. There was a vendor boy trying to help me. He said the price was 750,000 Lira or about 50 cents USA. But at the end the driver wanted 1 Million. As soon as I got out of the Taxi I was at the front of the line of trucks. There was a Turkey Military office in front of me, and the 1 kilometer line of petro trucks behind me. I turned around and took a very quick photo of the trucks before the guards would want to talk with me. I turned back around and they came runner over giving me order in the Turkish language.
I had my Camcorder and Sony Mavica camera inside my small backpack and was using my Creative Webcam camera. It was very cheap, and very small. Perfect for dodgy areas.
The young soldier grabbed my camera and took it.
Giving me order in Turkish language and by his hand to follow.
I smiled and followed back to the checkpoint office.
Suddenly about 5 soldiers were around me all talking in Turkish.
It may have been Kurdish language, but I can not tell the difference.
The called a higher ranking officer. None of them was older than age 30, and probably more like 20.
The commander spoke a few English hotels. I pointed at the truck. Pointed at the camera, then I held up 1 finger trying to say,
"I only took one photo."
The camera is a webcam and sort of silly looking. It is not a big Nikon with a zoom.
So the gave me the camera back.
Ask which hotel I was in, and my name.
I said, "Andy"
The then shook my hand started to smile and introduced all the soldier to me.
I tried to pronounce the names. The all relaxed.
I told them I was from America.
The do not understand the words "United States."
The pointed at a collectivo taxi... Like go back that way toward Silopi.
Meaning, I want permission to cross.
I have some friends at the hotel that could come and translate.
But I did not learn much and strangely. I did not see any sign of American soldiers.
There is supposed to be UN vehicles crossing. But I have not seen any.
It was fun. The people are much more nervous meeting me, then I am meeting them.
But than again. I meet new people every day, all the time. This is normal for me.
I hopped in a collectivo VAN and road back toward Silopi.
A boy collected 750,000 and I was happy.
I tapped the driver on the back to stop when I saw the sign that led to Habur and Zoho, Iraq.
I jumped out. Almost fell over a truck batter. Waved goodbye.
Walked over to a milelage sign.
I belived it said.
I have photos and will put one up to view soon.
The Zoho is in Iraq.
This is an oil border.
I am also going to have to oil the works by finding a taxi driver or local to help
me converse wth the border officials.
There are some seedy types hanging around that wish to help me.
I will find a nice person and get the owner of the Hotel to give him the OK.
Than go for another bounce off the border.
I will do this until they know me, and laugh.
The will probably make me drink Tea.
I cannot leave the hotel without people offering or inviting me in for Tea at least 2 times.