The wonders of Kermanshah are truly endless. This time, we planned to spend the night with the Gilangharb nomads. In the blackness of their beautiful tents and their colorful expanses, which shows the generosity of their hearts, we started the winding mountain journey from Kurdistan to reach the village of Gwar and the village of Chikan.
In the distance, a tall and stout man with white hair and beard was standing in front of the tourist lodge and was waiting for us to enter. What an attractive man, what an attractive family. Sweetness filled my heart.
We parked the car, put our sleeping bags and backpacks on our shoulders and headed towards the nearby plain. They made a fire for us. Gradually, family members joined us – children, grandchildren, each one was busy with something. We brewed tea over the charcoal fire and it was the sweetest tea of my life.
The night had come and there was nowhere but around the fire. In the distance, a voice with a Kurdish accent was getting closer and closer, and I stood in the darkness of the night waiting for the source. His black eyes were distinct. What an eye-catching face!
The geometry of her face was in the most artistic way possible and the combination with her charming eyes mesmerized her and made you sit and watch for hours. With makeup, a scarf on her head, and eyelashes dancing on her forehead, and the light of the shadows shining on her face like a whip, her magical composition was more visible than ever and caught my attention.
We had dinner in their black tent and put our own tent next to the fire. When the sun rose in the morning, our frozen bodies melted and we came out of the tent. They set up a clay oven inside their tent and started making bread dough. The joy of making bread, especially in the most traditional way, is unforgettable.
We ate local breakfast and got ready for climbing. They wrapped a local scarf around my head and gave me a gun. The road was hard and long. We reached a cave at the top of the mountain where a spring with cool and clear water was waiting for us and it would take away our fatigue.
While talking with Mr. Valai , we drank charcoal tea from spring water. We admired the ancient area for hours from the top of the mountain and in the shadow of this cave. We had to slowly move towards Lorestan. We reluctantly returned to the black tent and put our things in the car to leave.
It was hard to separate from such a dear and close family, but we had a long way to go and we had no choice but to leave. Now that I am writing these memories for you, the Chekan eco resort is ready to host you. However, I recommend you experience the night in their black tents and don’t miss the opportunity to enjoy a different lifestyle.
Where Imagination Knows No Bounds, and Every Stroke Tells a Tale.
Chaoyang D, BaliZhuang,
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