...and fruitstands

            The street that passes under the peeling white, wrought-iron gate that poses as the entrance to the bazaar of Sulaimaniyah comes to a point together with an once-seeming parallel street forming the letter Y. On what must be called a median, just before the actual intersection, sits a bright orange, three-sided fruit juice stand. The bright orange of the booth stands out against the constant barrage of the earth-toned color scheme that dominates the Kurdish-Iraqi urban landscape. 

Juice swirls around the plastic containers that look like cousins of the lemonade dispensers inside chik-fil-a. Blenders speckled with remnants of fresh kiwi, carrot, and oranges share the remaining counter space with stacked melons, whole carrots, and unpeeled oranges. Bazaar-goers come to these stands as an alternative to the universally loved cha (tea). This specific stand has a total of three staff members that never share a shift. The young, sort of shy Hama, who is working on a full fledged goat-tee that will fill if given just a bit more time. He may or may not have an older brother who helps run the stand. Masjdi knows just enough english to interpret hand signals asking for good food. He knows of a shady restaurant in a hidden nook within the Bazaar full of running cockroaches and the best rice, bean, soup, lamb combination discovered so far inside all of Iraq. 

          The last staff member of the soon to be famous Great Bazaar Fruitstand is only known in Kurdish as Mr. Mustache. The legend of the mustache alone secured my loyalty to this fruit stand, but it helps that these guys are the most friendly faces I have met in the tangled labyrinth, locally referred to as "the Bazaar."