Six Countries.
Countless Cities.
One Life.

Raised in Iranian Kurdistan — between mountains, languages and cultures. But Iran was never just one region for me. It was an entire universe I crossed.

Kermanshah and Bisotun — where history is carved in stone and the air smells of millennia. Shiraz with its Eram Garden — a beauty that leaves one speechless. Yazd — everywhere yellow, everywhere dignity, everywhere people with a quiet intelligence in their eyes. Isfahan — half the world, as the Persians say. Rasht and Anzali — rain, green, life at a different pace. Balochistan — the most hospitable people I have ever met. Chabahar and Kish — islands so beautiful you have to look twice.

This sentence would not end if I named all the places that shaped me.

And Kurdistan — the mountains, the people, the silence between two sentences that says more than a thousand words.

Iran shaped me before I knew I was being shaped.

Kurdistan in Iraq is not just a place — it is a feeling you do not explain, but carry. In Erbil, Dohuk and Sulaymaniyah I worked, breathed and understood where I come from.

Baghdad was different. There the sun was no ornament in the sky — it was a force to be respected. Over 50 degrees. Work under open skies. No shade, no excuse. Only reality.

As an interpreter for the UN in Ankara, I stood between languages and fates — translating words, but also hopes. People who had lost everything sought a way out in my words.

I did not travel through Turkey — I lived it. From south to west, from city to city, not because I had planned it, but because fate determined the route. Each city a new lesson. Each road a new chapter.

Izmir was beauty by the sea — loud, lively, in love with itself. Van was silence. A silence that speaks. Trabzon and Giresun — the air was different there. Heavier, greener, more honest. As if someone had forgotten to speed up time.

And Aydın — Aydın was like a piece of the foreign in the middle of Turkey. A city that did not quite belong. As if it did not know where it belonged — and had made peace with simply being itself.

Greece changed me — quietly, without announcement. Worked at Solidarity Now, helped people who had lost everything.

The beaches were so surreally beautiful, as if someone had drawn them. And the people lived differently — as if the second counted, not the hour. No stress. No hurry. Time in slow motion.

An experience one does not forget. That writes itself into the skin.

A brief stay — but an important moment. The point at which Europe stopped being an idea and began to be a home.

Germany became the base — not because the journey ended, but because a new chapter began here. Training, studies, projects, companies. A city that challenged and shaped me.

Here MedScoutX, Kardokh Publishing and The Silent Rupture take shape. Here I study, research and build. And here I keep writing — on my story and on the future.