ERBIL/DAHUK, Iraqi Kurdistan — Amid the haze of shisha smoke, young women with pouty lips and scanty clothes cast languid glances at Erbil's Cafe Hamdil where Iranian prostitutes exclusively ply their trade. A 10-year-old girl with an impish grin hawks roses to aspiring Romeos. A youth with thickly gelled hair and a T-shirt that says “Thanks Insomnia” takes the bait.

It's Thursday night, and the Lebanese Village in Erbil is heaving with men willing to pay $200 for an hour of pleasure. They typically spend it at the Masaya Hotel that is strategically located near a strip of clubs in this notionally gated community. The anodyne block is said to be owned by the Hariris, Lebanon’s storied family that produced two prime ministers and multiple entrepreneurs. It could only ever serve as a brothel with the consent of local authorities as documented by Al Jazeera in a chilling investigation on trafficking in Iraq.

The scene would have until recently been unimaginable in tradition-bound Kurdistan. For centuries, entertainment involved picnicking in the mountains and splashing around in icy streams for the rich and poor alike. The climax: Girls and boys doing the circle dance under their elders’ watchful eyes.

Justifiably or not, many blame an influx of Arabs for these and a host of other changes they say are tearing at the fabric of Kurdish identity. The resentment is nothing new. For decades, Iraqi Arab-led regimes in Baghdad oppressed the Kurds, subjecting them to forced Arabization and genocides. Mutual hostilities — and scorn — ran deep.