Like many women in my community, I’ve never wanted to just work at home, help my family, and cook. I’ve always wanted to be financially independent, and I believe a woman can both create a warm, welcoming home and run her own business. But living in a small town like Marivan, this hasn’t been easy. ...
The prosthetic leg the hospital made for me was painful, so I eventually crafted my own from a willow tree, earning me the nickname Hussein Dartash (Carpenter). I have a deep love for the nature and mountains of Kurdistan. One day, while searching for spring plants along the border between Southern and Eastern Kurdistan, I stepped on a landmine left from the Iran-Iraq war, which led to the loss of my leg. Later, as I moved to Marivan and trained as a carpenter, I found hope in crafting a wooden leg for myself. In the past twenty years, I've created many prosthetic legs for others who needed help rising above life’s challenges. I’ve always expressed my heartache by playing the Shimshal I carved from tree branches in the mountains of Kurdistan. ...
This Newroz, I will turn sixty and retire from my craft forever. I am probably the last Kurd in Kurdistan who still practices the art of toolmaking, which involves creating items like keys, locks, baskets, knives, and chains. The past twenty years have been the most significant of my artistic life. It all began when I filled my room with my creations, especially those made from canvas and cardboard. Visitors would come to our home and say, "Let's go to Behzad's room." My first workshop was in Sanandaj, and I dedicated my life to this craft for many years. My work is such a deeply rooted art that I could continue it for the rest of my life. However, I feel sorrow, knowing that one day, I may have to abandon my room and art for life's demands. ...
When I returned to Hawraman from Tehran, I pursued change in handicrafts art. At first, they stood against me and my first artworks, which I put on display in an exhibition in the village. They said I’m worshiping statues and propagating worshiping them with the woodwork I’m doing. Back then, they were building a dam and wrecking all the land, so I started collecting the trees with their roots and working on them. Gradually, my work became more acceptable among the people, and they became keen on it. Nowadays, when they see a tree, they send it to me and say use it for your artwork. ...
“They call me Osman Keminaiy or Osman Hawrami; I was born in 1936 in Kemina village. My whole family, tribe, and clan have a pleasant voice and sing. I’m from the Lihon faction of Hawraman, but I’m known for my singing style and Hawrami songs along with Hawrami Siachaman. I’ve always been interested in singing, but I got into fame when in 1964, my song was aired on Kermanshah Radio. In 1956, recording became available in our area, and they were recording songs. I can’t tell how many songs I have recorded because no one collected them for me, and I’m illiterate. If I was singing seven hours a day, imagine how many songs that would be. However, in 1992 I was poisoned, which sadly silenced my voice forever.” ...
“Ten years ago, my husband married a second wife and left me. My son and I both soon developed cancer, but my son did not make it. In order not to beg others, I’ve been making Mekhak poked apples for the last seven years and selling them in Sanandaj’s Niqbal market. A lot of people in Sanandaj know me and buy my handmade stuff and take it to Europe. I struggle a lot during winter colds and summers because of the heat, but I’m happy to see many other women who, like me, have started working and selling goods.” ...
“I’m 65 years old and from Dewaznawi village in the Sawlaw subdistrict. I’ve been doing this mending work. Since we live near Sirwan Lake, there are many Judas trees here. For most of us, this work is better than any other profession. All the residents of Dewaznaw are occupied with this work, women, children, we all know it, our village is famous for this. All the handicrafts things you see in Hawraman are from our village. They come here in big trucks and collect what we have made village. Previously, our ancestors used to take these things and exchange them in other towns for wheat and other things. Once, my father spoke about how strange it was for the people of Hamedan to learn that we are making these things out of wood. They said, “These artifacts are as enigmatic as aircraft.” ...
“I have been playing Daf for 14 years now. As soon as I started attending the university in Yazd city, I felt Daf was in my blood. So, while there, I went to a teacher, they knew I was Kurdish, and so they respected me very well. Additionally, I met a group of musicians, and we used to go to the hills and the mountains and play music there during the night, and some among us used to sing to our playing. I also joined a theater group and helped them for a couple of days while we had a play showing in the city. During my time playing Daf, I played along with many other instruments at different mosques, Khanaqa (Islamic abbeys), and cities of East, South, and North Kurdistan, as well as Iranian cities. I have worked for Kurdish, Persian, and Turkish singers and have participated in many Pir Shalyar ceremonies. I believe music is appropriate for every anytime, anywhere, whether you are sad, happy, or reminding yourself of God. Music is a road leading to another world.” ...
“My name is Frishta Husseini from Meyvan village in Paveh city. It is nearing 20 years that I have been working in making Kalash. Kalash shoes are white in color in all of Hawraman; thus, we didn’t have that many customers, so I started mixing colors into it. Our village receives many tourists; I started with one colorful Kalash; the tourists loved it! Back then, Kalash used to be worn only by men, but with this new design, women now wear it even more. At first, only 35 people made Kalash in the village, but now women and girls in every household are occupied with the craft. The village is dubbed Kalash Village in Iran.” ...
“My name is Habiba, and I’m from Palani village in the Kamyaran area. I’m 53 years old and got married at 12. My husband had four sisters and one brother, all of whom were disabled. I lived with them and took care of them one by one. I was really young when my father died in the village flood; they never found his body. My mother taught me how to make bread; it was so important for her that she always said, “Let your breadbasket always be full of bread; when you have guests over, bread is more important than the food.” So, this is why I have taught all my daughters and the girls in my in-law family how to make bread.” ...
“My name is Sharbat Ramzaniy, and I’m from Palangan village in Kamyaran. My mother has been a strong and artistic woman; she has taught me many crafts and arts since 15. Today, only my mother and I can knit chenille blankets. Anyone who wants to learn how to do it must come to my mother to teach them. Thank goodness, I make a living on it, it makes me busy, and I also feel proud to know an old style of Kurdish art that is about to be forgotten. I know so many art crafts that if there’s one new to me, I just observe it, and then I’ll start doing it and learn right away. This has made me known as a strong and artistic woman.” ...
“Twelve years ago, I became disabled because of an accident. It makes me proud that through my will and the support of my family and friends, the disability could not hold me from working and living. Even though the situation is dreadful now, but life is all about struggling. Since my teenage years, I became interested in my mother tongue, and later I became more invested in language through the writings of Hazhar and Hemn. Through reading their literature, I mastered writing and speaking in the Kurdish language fluently. Furthermore, I bought Kurdish language books and eventually became an instructor for the Kurdish language. For now, I am a volunteer lecturer in our village. I teach Kurdish language to the children who are the hope of our future. They come to me after the end of their school day, they come to my home, and I teach them their mother tongue.” ...