The mountains of Kurdistan

I grew up in a wonderful community in Amarillo, Texas, home of the 72 ounce steak, cowboys in chaps and spurs, and plains as far as the eye can see. This idyllic backdrop provided the perfect stage for me to use my imagination by playing ‘pretend’ and dreaming of distant lands and peoples. From trekking the impenetrable jungles of Papua New Guinea while dodging headhunters, or climbing Mount Everest with the Sherpas, to kayaking the Amazon and befriending shamans, my mind led me on adventure after adventure. I would spin the globe, pick a spot, and imagine myself there.

Strangely though, the Middle East was never a place I thought much about then.  All I really knew of the entire region was what I had heard and seen on the news about the Gulf War. As a child, the newscasters and foreign correspondents didn’t make much sense to me, but the videos I saw made an impression. Images of violence, pain, suffering, inhospitable climates, and people who seemingly were nothing like me, resulted in a less than positive perception of Iraq.

Stopping for a picture with two local Kurdish men

At that time, I didn’t know about the rich culture of the people there and how their music, art, innovation, and cuisine have made an impact on the outside world. I didn’t recognize the historical importance of the region and that it was the “Cradle of Civilization” where events took place that changed the course of history. In fact, even the world’s first writing system was established in Iraq, enabling history, law, and information to be recorded. I didn’t understand the regime that was controlling the country and its people, and I certainly didn’t know any Iraqis or their stories. I had never stepped foot in their homes, their markets or mosques, or witnessed the things that caused them joy or worry.

As I got older, however, I developed a deep interest in international travel and actually experiencing cultures. I began reading more purposefully and listening to news more critically. Around that time, I also became a serious athlete. As time progressed and my involvement in sport grew, my attention shifted to sport for development. Using sport as a vehicle to impact people and change lives, not just as a game with an end unto itself, was incredibly appealing. In the summer of 2010 I was invited by Global Sports Partners to participate in a project in Iraq, both in Baghdad and further north in Kurdistan.

The trip was fruitful. It gave me first-hand experiences with people that I previously had only known through books, newspapers, articles, and ethnographies. After my time in Iraq was over, I wrote in my journal:

I’m on the plane going to trek in the Kackar Mountains right now, and they’re stuck behind living in a situation they can’t entirely control. If I leave this place and leave my experiences in this book, my trip will be in vain; their stories need to be told…

So here I stand many months later, with a serendipitous opportunity to work with an organization that is striving to make a positive difference in Iraq. The Iraq War has undoubtedly effected countless people at home and abroad, resulting in certain impressions about Iraq and its people, just as the Gulf War initially did for me. I hope throughout the course of this blog, however, that I can provide a more personal insight into the Iraqi people and their country. I want to share what I learned from them, how they impacted me, and how we as Americans have the opportunity to make a positive difference for them. I look forward to it.

Until next time,

Leah

Until next time...

Leah Rush is a humanitarian and development professional specializing in the role sports can play in building peace. She also played professional basketball in the WNBA. Leah currently sits on EPIC's Board of Advisors.