Dating In A War Zone

For many expat charity workers and journalists posted to cover the war against ISIS, there’s only one way to switch off from the horrors of their day jobs. Corrine Redfern spends a night on the town in Iraq

- Corrine Redfern

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It’s a Thursday night in Erbil, and I’m being taken on a bar crawl. Or, at least, I was supposed to be, but there’s a Kurdish soldier in the way. “Your name’s not on the list,” he says. I open my mouth to protest – talking my way into things is a CV-listed strength. Then I spot the guy’s gun. The bouncers at home don’t have guns.

A friend takes over. He’d put my name down three days ago, he says. As they switch between languages – English, Arabic and Kurdish merging to form one convincing argument for why I don’t pose a danger – I spot the photographer I’m working with being frisked intimately. “Any bombs on you?” we’re asked, without irony. Twenty minutes of animated phone calls later, we’re through to the next round of a rigorous four-step security check that will eventually see us arrive, retying our shoelaces and slightly dishevelled, at Erbil’s United Nations bar. The first thing I see walking through the door is someone passed out, head down on the pool table. It’s only 8pm.