Will tourism help Barzan flourish or destroy its natural beauty?
BEYDIAL, Kurdistan Region – On the top of a mountain in the Barzan region, Binjamin Nukha Okhana, 75, walks down a dirt track that passes a handful of houses, grazing cattle, and two churches before it tapers off in front of a large white cross that overlooks the valley.
He carries two plastic jugs to the village well where he goes twice a day to fetch drinking water.
Hunting and logging are strictly prohibited in this area, while fishing is tightly regulated and permitted only a few months of the year.
Accessing the area itself is quite a trek as all traffic in and out of Barzan is closely controlled in order to preserve the wildlife, streams, and fragile oak forests.
For any adventurer or tourist fortunate enough to make it into Barzan, the pristine nature makes it a dream place.
“It’s all free,” said Nzar Hussen, a resident of Barzan, sweeping his arm over the view.
He then pulls out his phone and shows an array of videos of wild animals he has filmed on these mountain sides – wolves, goats, deer, bears, boar – none hunted, except for the occasional boar when they pose a risk.
Respect for the environment is a value that runs deep in the Barzan tribe, said Rebwar Ramazan Barzani, director of Barzan’s Anfal and Martyr affairs. Uprooted from their homes, relocated, put into concentration camps, the Barzanis have always strived to protect and nurture the environment.
“A Barzani is armed with his nature, nothing else,” he said.
A hotbed of revolution and Kurdish nationalism, this area was for many years a frequent military target. The former Baath regime committed ecocide here, says Barzani. They blew up springs, cut down forests, and dumped oil into the ground to prevent regrowth.
“Our area has been bombarded and razed to the ground 16 times, but it has always been rebuilt,” he said.
This beautiful nature would inevitably invite tourism and with it many challenges.
On the edge of the village well, Okhana stops pumping the ice-cold water to take a call on his cell phone on a spot that until just a few years ago was only accessible on foot or on horseback. The new gravel road that switchbacks up the mountain was built by Nechirvan Barzani, current prime minister of the Kurdistan Region, whose imposing home stands on its own mountainside across the valley.
With the road came visitors, among them a recent visit by a group of Koreans who had come to pray in Mar Gorgis (St. George) church.
This church is estimated to be between 700 and 1600 years old. Its main door is only about a meter high – forcing people to enter the sanctuary in bowed respect. Pointing to an image of a knight slaying a dragon, Okhana said the tomb behind the altar was that of St. George, who is buried in modern-day Israel.
A much larger, newer church, also called Mar Gorgis, now dominates the landscape. While the new house of worship is locked when not in use, the old one receives villagers every day who come to light candles and say a prayer.
Beydial is the last Christian village in the Barzan area. Most Christians from here have moved to Shaqlawa or Ainkawa. In a centuries-old tradition they host their Muslim neighbours for a Christmas celebration.
There are plans to improve the road to Beydial and make it more accessible to villagers and tourists, though locals think there is no need for hotels and prefer to keep their traditional custom of welcoming visitors to stay in their homes.
That attitude will have to change, says Rebwar Barzani, and hotels and restaurants are being built. But there remains the challenge of keeping a balance between tourism and protecting the fragile environment.
With the sun setting far in the distance, Okhana walks home with his water cans, knowing it may be some time yet before hoards of travelers come and potentially upset his mountain sanctuary.
He carries two plastic jugs to the village well where he goes twice a day to fetch drinking water.
This peaceful environ is Beydial, a village in the heart of the Barzan area, a wildlife sanctuary that has been protected by tribal custom going back a century to the time of Sheikh Abdul Salam, the uncle of Masoud Barzani.
Hunting and logging are strictly prohibited in this area, while fishing is tightly regulated and permitted only a few months of the year.
Accessing the area itself is quite a trek as all traffic in and out of Barzan is closely controlled in order to preserve the wildlife, streams, and fragile oak forests.
For any adventurer or tourist fortunate enough to make it into Barzan, the pristine nature makes it a dream place.
“It’s all free,” said Nzar Hussen, a resident of Barzan, sweeping his arm over the view.
He then pulls out his phone and shows an array of videos of wild animals he has filmed on these mountain sides – wolves, goats, deer, bears, boar – none hunted, except for the occasional boar when they pose a risk.
Respect for the environment is a value that runs deep in the Barzan tribe, said Rebwar Ramazan Barzani, director of Barzan’s Anfal and Martyr affairs. Uprooted from their homes, relocated, put into concentration camps, the Barzanis have always strived to protect and nurture the environment.
“A Barzani is armed with his nature, nothing else,” he said.
A hotbed of revolution and Kurdish nationalism, this area was for many years a frequent military target. The former Baath regime committed ecocide here, says Barzani. They blew up springs, cut down forests, and dumped oil into the ground to prevent regrowth.
“Our area has been bombarded and razed to the ground 16 times, but it has always been rebuilt,” he said.
This beautiful nature would inevitably invite tourism and with it many challenges.
On the edge of the village well, Okhana stops pumping the ice-cold water to take a call on his cell phone on a spot that until just a few years ago was only accessible on foot or on horseback. The new gravel road that switchbacks up the mountain was built by Nechirvan Barzani, current prime minister of the Kurdistan Region, whose imposing home stands on its own mountainside across the valley.
With the road came visitors, among them a recent visit by a group of Koreans who had come to pray in Mar Gorgis (St. George) church.
This church is estimated to be between 700 and 1600 years old. Its main door is only about a meter high – forcing people to enter the sanctuary in bowed respect. Pointing to an image of a knight slaying a dragon, Okhana said the tomb behind the altar was that of St. George, who is buried in modern-day Israel.
A much larger, newer church, also called Mar Gorgis, now dominates the landscape. While the new house of worship is locked when not in use, the old one receives villagers every day who come to light candles and say a prayer.
Beydial is the last Christian village in the Barzan area. Most Christians from here have moved to Shaqlawa or Ainkawa. In a centuries-old tradition they host their Muslim neighbours for a Christmas celebration.
There are plans to improve the road to Beydial and make it more accessible to villagers and tourists, though locals think there is no need for hotels and prefer to keep their traditional custom of welcoming visitors to stay in their homes.
That attitude will have to change, says Rebwar Barzani, and hotels and restaurants are being built. But there remains the challenge of keeping a balance between tourism and protecting the fragile environment.
With the sun setting far in the distance, Okhana walks home with his water cans, knowing it may be some time yet before hoards of travelers come and potentially upset his mountain sanctuary.