The Mullah Incident and the Blue Towel Story

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I am not suppose to touch it but I’ve come all this way and I don’t know how I am getting out of here? Touching the smooth marble and a Persian beard of the last remaining ruins. It makes you appreciate the intricate details. More so than when you’re at a well-preserved site like Persepolis. So touching the ruined site is the only way to make a special trip to Shush worthwhile.

I had just finished a 2 hour sleep on a 13-hour overnight bus ride from Esfahan. I decided to walk to the hotel from the highway (drop off point) my feet had swelled up from being on the window seat. It was interesting walking around at 8am watching the locals exercise especially one of the ladies in full gown sprinting on one of those cycle park exercises.

At the hotel there would be no English and a 54-year-old Melbourne guy who arrived 4 hours earlier. He had the same plan as me so after a shower we joined up in a taxi to the main site of the area.
Choqa Zambil is the best surviving example of Elamite architecture. In semi-desert its pyramid style was an interesting site just a shame the only way to see it is from the outside. The brickwork is quite amazing. Lost for more than 2500 years the bricks look like they were put up yesterday. Most bricks are engraved in cuneiform the world’s first alphabet. Apart from that it’s a dried out landscape good enough for about 30 minutes.

We got back to Shush where we had lunch and I decided to have a sleep for an hour before Shush’s site. Moments after lying down - a lady knocks on the door and says, “Change!” and dangles a key. I say “Noooo.” She tells David the Melbourne guy (before he headed off) who tells me so I move my things up to the other room. I just knew something was going to go wrong.

After a brief sleep I went out to the Shush archaeological site. This is where the Winter Palace was and administration of the Darius raine. The Palace of Darius was where Alexander The Great married Darius III’s daughter. Nowadays it’s a flattened out piece of land with a few specks of marble.

Towering over it is a Castle built by the French during the excavations. It was built to protect the site from Arabs and local tribesman from robbing and disturbing the excavations. So after seeing these two sites and knowing that I had to return for 13 hours of back and neck pain. I had to question myself “Hmmm was it really worthwhile coming here?” I am still leaving that question unanswered.

Enter Daniel tomb - I entered the small square and took a few photos. There was a sign saying, “The manifestation of Iran’s power are the Martyrs.” Now this sign is regarding the pre 1979 people, which helped the revolution so this is similar theme to what I saw and took in Cuba. Soon after a guy with a yellow armband points to the shrine area but more to an office. I act like a dumb tourist and move more towards the site. Than he says “Na, Na.” He takes me to the head Mullah. Now a Mullah is the main religious guy that is highly respected. He speaks pretty good English and starts giving me the interrogation questions. Where you work? You work for media? What’s your job? I say no I work for the bank. “You aren’t from the media. Where you from? What is your name? I stop answering the questions and asked my own.

Am I allowed to take pictures? “Yes, yes.” Am I allowed inside they are preying? “Yes yes you don’t have video?” “No.” “Come, Come” By this stage as I start taking my shoes off I have 4-5 people around me. He then said “But when you finish you have to come back and give me all your details. Your name, country, job.” I said “Look I don’t want to cause any trouble for myself. I have already gone through this with the government for my Visa. Why do I need to do this? I haven’t done that at any other site in Iran? I don’t need to see this site if that is the case.” He said “No everyone who visits does it.” I reply “I take 2 photos and then I get this man tell me to come to you than you ask me all these questions and now I have 4(5?) people surrounding me. I don’t need this. I think I am going to go.” And I left.

Maybe it was an over-reaction on my part? But in that brief moment you go with instinct and my instinct told me I had an opportunity to get out and I took it. I just wasn’t in the mood to get the third degree. I was concerned that I was staying at the only hotel in town. Plus I have a blog and most of my Iran stories typed up on my laptop.

After dinner David and I walked around and spoke to the real Iran not this paranoid Iran. This man came out of his car and asked if we could speak to his sons (10 and 12 years.) The 12 year old brings out his exercise book to practice. This is what Iran is about. It is quite hard not to make a bigger thing about the ridiculous paranoia I received in that brief minute. It wouldn’t be right to drag on because Iran and its genuine people deserve better so lets leave it at 3 paragraphs.

We got back to the hotel and I realised my towel had been left in the other room so trying to communicate that was a torturous affair. On the back of the mullah incident and 2 hours sleep in the past 24 hours. I ask “(Slowly) I have left my towel in room 22. Do you have the key so I can get it?” No good. I try again repeating but this time with hand movements. “I have left my tooooooowwwwwwweeeeeelllllll…….” Producing the peace sign twice over. He than takes me to the cleaners room to give me a fresh towel. “No no no no. My own” indicating procession. He than gets someone with a little English. Slight progress and we get the key… Towels gone in 22.

We are now almost back to where we started. A lady was there she understood slightly. A guy decides to calls his mate, I hate when this happens. Iranians think that their friend knows better English than them (or its a chance to show off that they are in the presence of a tourist.) So they come on the line, a shitty line. “Elo (they love to cut the ‘h)” I can’t understand him. This has happened three times now in Iran. This time round though the guy on the other line was drunk.

After that a shit kicker who can’t speak a word of English thinks I am talking about the toilet that doesn’t flush. Even though that is true I am not even bothering with that. But we go upstairs anyway so he can realise that that’s not what I am talking about and would go away. I get down and they ask me again what am I looking for? I was like Basil Faulty in Faulty Towers to Manuel about the horse dragonfly “Your horse nitwit” I say “A BLLLUUUEEE (pointing at the blue trim on the walls) TOOOOOOOOWWWWWEEEEELLLLLL (I had forgotten the Farsi word and the dictionary was upstairs.)

See the reason why this was annoying also is that at the stopover on the bus ride I wanted to buy a pen. And the shopkeeper is standing there as I indicate writing with my hand. He’s clueless. I get a notepad out and my highlighter. “Pen!” He looks to see what I wrote down. So I had to find someone to help me. Fuck! Iranians don’t know anything about non-verbal communication. This must be why they talk so much? I have just put the icing on the coffin. Or the hit nail on the cake. Either way it is a brilliant discovery of the people.

So back to the missing towel - a lady was called up. Now at this stage no one accept me knows a towel is missing. Her English was the best and she whoever she was, was a great help. I had to wait 20 minutes because finally someone could tell the manager that all we needed to do was call the cleaner who probably has the towel. And finally I was reunited with my blue towel that has become like a lot of my duel Journey appendages - a part of me.

I left the next morning and was treated with the sight of dramatic mountain scenery of the Zardkouh Mountains. Green farm fields in desert snow capped mountains. Sheep herders on the highway and police checkpoints, horrific car and truck debris off the road. Shush although it has created a couple of nice little stories really created more hassles than it’s worth.

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Photos

Shush site
One of the few remaining pieces

Apadana Palace
Where alexander got married.
Worth the trip!!

Choqa Zambil
at the museum ion tehran was at the entrance at Choqa

At the museum in Tehran
Darius held up by the group of nations made in Egypt has hyroglyphics