Hawija - A Drummer's Unexpected Oasis
i never thought i'd end up in hawija, but here i am, sitting in a dusty roadside cafe, my sticks tucked in my back pocket like a security blanket. the numbers 124620 and 1364152430 keep flashing in my head - maybe they're coordinates, maybe they're just random digits that followed me here. who knows.
anyway, the weather's doing its own thing today. i just checked and it's 16.95°c there right now, feels like 16.22°c. kinda perfect for wandering around with no plan, which is exactly what i'm doing.
you gotta see the old market before the sun gets too high
- that's what the old guy at my hotel said this morning. he had coffee stains on his shirt and looked like he'd been up all night. his advice was probably the best thing i've heard all week.
people keep asking if i'm lost. maybe i am. but that's the thing about being a touring drummer - you get used to showing up in places where nobody speaks your language and somehow making it work. the locals here have this way of communicating that doesn't need words. a nod, a gesture, a shared cigarette - that's all it takes.
i heard that the best food in town is at some hole-in-the-wall place near the river. someone told me that if you go after 8pm, there's this old woman who makes kebabs that'll make you question every other kebab you've ever had. i'm planning to check it out tonight, if i can find it.
if you get bored, kirkuk and tikrit are just a short drive away. but honestly, i'm not bored at all. there's something about hawija that's got me hooked. maybe it's the way the light hits the buildings at sunset, or maybe it's just that i'm finally learning to slow down.
*the river walk* is where everyone seems to end up in the evenings. i've been there twice already, watching people stroll by, kids playing soccer on the banks, old men arguing about politics. it's got this energy that's hard to describe - not touristy, not local, just... alive.
i keep thinking about the numbers again. 124620. 1364152430. they're like a weird soundtrack playing in the background of this whole trip. maybe they mean something, maybe they don't. but they're part of the story now.
don't trust the guy selling maps outside the mosque
- another piece of advice i got. apparently he's been known to send people on wild goose chases. but then again, maybe that's not such a bad thing?
for what it's worth, i'm staying at this place called [hotel name redacted] - nothing fancy, but the beds are clean and the guy at the front desk has a wicked sense of humor. if you're planning to come through, tell him the drummer with the weird numbers sent you.
this whole experience has been nothing like i expected. but then again, when you're carrying your life in a drum case and your only plan is to keep moving, you learn to expect the unexpected. hawija's got its own rhythm, and i'm just trying to keep up.
if you're reading this and thinking about coming here, just do it. don't overthink it. bring comfortable shoes, an open mind, and maybe a notebook to write down all the random numbers that seem to follow you around. trust me, they might mean something someday.
You might also be interested in:
- https://votoris.com/post/is-khartoum-north-petfriendly-best-parks-and-vet-services
- https://votoris.com/post/job-market-analysis-most-indemand-careers-in-san-francisco-according-to-my-hungover-spreadsheet
- https://votoris.com/post/is-domaaahenkro-familyfriendly-parks-schools-and-safety
- https://votoris.com/post/a-sweaty-afternoon-in-the-philippines-and-the-numbers-that-followed-me
- https://votoris.com/post/al-ain-dusthaze-chronicles-an-indie-film-scouts-sleepdeprived-day