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My native vilage
 Automobiles were an extreme rarity when I was a youngster, as was any other vestige of modern life. I hadn't sen a car intil I had turned 7. In my village there was no school, not even paper or pencils. Illiteracy was virtually 100%. I began drawing at about the same time that I began to walk and only with the materials that my poor environment would allow (chalk, coal, etc...). At the age of six months an unhappy event in Hirit compelled my family, which feared for their lives, to leave the town, provoking an exile that lasted decades. This type of event, family feuding and vendetta, is not a rare event even today in a region where justice is left in the hands of the people.
My native house-Hirit
me (2 years)

 We were still in danger in Kelhok and were forced to move even further away. My parents made the wise decision to quit the Kurdish regions entirely.
   We went into exile on a snow-bound winter's night on horseback, accompanied by heavily armed uncles and cousins. The perilous voyage, over high mountains, ended in the small town of Tatvan.
   Despite our departure, there were deaths in the two families concerned in the dispute. This settling of accounts was only resolved twenty years later with a large cash payment to the plaintiff family.

me (3 years)