FROM my hotel balcony I can see this city of nearly 700,000 in all its modernity and all its madness. I can see the desiccated mountains of Iraqi Kurdistan encircling us — hills that on my last visit, during the rainy season, were covered in poppies. I can see the Ferris wheel that was built as a symbol of freedom on the ruins of one of Saddam Hussein’s prisons. And I can see 20 armed soldiers watching me from below, making me feel anything but free.
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