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Published: August 11th 2013
My palms are sweating as I nervously wait in line at immigration, thinking about the $500 I spent on the visa to come here, and the amount of hassle I had to go through. Will it all be a waste? How many difficulties am I going to have here too? Finally, it’s my time to step up. He takes my passport, looks at me and cocks his head. ‘Eeengland?’ he asks. ‘Yes’, I reply, smiling and trying to look as friendly as possible. He stares at me and I expect the worst. In heavily accented, broken English he questions, ‘Khwhat ees Eeengland but not Eeengland?. Is this a test? ‘Do you mean Ireland?’ I say, confused by the question. ‘Ahh, Eereland! OK,
mersi’. He grins at me and his colleague sitting next to him. And that’s it – I’m in. Probably the quickest and easiest immigration I’ve ever been through. I breathe a sigh of relief and smile back at the crowd of Iranians beaming and waving at me as I walk out of the terminal.
I'm sure many of you have preconceptions about Iran. I know I did. People wished me luck, and said things such as ‘don't get
kidnapped’ so often I began to wonder whether there might be some truth to it. But walking through that airport so easily when I had worried about it so much before, made me realise that maybe things wouldn’t be as difficult as I thought.
It’s funny how strongly we associate a name with a stereotype. I’m sure I could name the first three things that come into your head when I mention ‘Iran’. But how about ‘Persia’? What does that evocative name make you think of? I’ll bet you’re thinking of something totally different. Yet we are talking about the same place. Iran is a country with so much to offer, but unfortunately the name is often enough to put people off. I’d like to share my experiences of travelling in Iran – not only the sights and things I did, but also the attitudes and culture of the people that I met. I was lucky enough to spend a lot of time with local people – open-minded and fascinating people who weren’t afraid to talk about their views and what they thought about their lives, the government, and the world.
This was one of the most eye-opening
and amazing places that I have ever been, and it has completely changed the way that I think about the world and about people. I hope that maybe it will dispel a few myths about the country, and that maybe people will think again about visiting this beautiful place.
The Hospitality The Iranian proverb ‘
Guests are friends from God’ may have something to do with the overwhelming hospitality of the Iranian people. Speak to anyone that has ever been there, and the first thing they will mention is the hospitality. Yet, generally the stereotype of Iranian people in the West is of American-hating fundamentalists. Although I’m sure that this does exist in Iran (my first day in Shiraz I saw a huge ‘Down with America’ poster depicting the famous American missile hitting the Iranian passenger plane, not to mention all manner of graffiti over the American embassy in Tehran), this is definitely the exception rather than the rule. It is an image that the Iranian people are acutely aware of, something I was questioned about endlessly, and an image that they are desperate to change. Although before coming to Iran I had been told about how friendly the
people were, nothing could have prepared me for how kindly I was treated during my time there. There is no way I can mention every instance where someone showed me kindness, otherwise this blog would go on forever. Iranian hospitality is all about making sure the guest has everything they need, and feels at home. Being invited to join families for picnics, to their homes for tea or dinner, or just someone offering you a cup of tea while you’re sitting in a park. These are all things that happen daily in Iran. Whenever I was standing on my own or looking lost, someone would be with me within less than a minute to try and help. People would stop and get out of their cars, just to come over and welcome me to their country. Shopkeepers wanted to talk to me and say how happy they were that I was visiting Iran, without even considering trying to sell me something.
Iran is the kind of place where you can say yes to anything without worrying about getting ripped off. Instead, I found myself having the most interesting, crazy and weird experiences. Saying yes may just end up with
you stripping off and sitting in a hot spring in the middle of the desert with a bunch of bearded old men at 1am. Saying yes may end up with you going to a complete strangers’ house for some tea, when they don’t speak a word of English. Saying yes may end up with you at an underground party with some of the richest people in Tehran, trying to look like you’re not incredibly intimidated. By saying yes you will meet families, be given food and drink, a place to stay, have fascinating conversations, and definitely have some experiences that you will never forget.
While in Iran I really wanted to experience the culture, find out how people lived and discover what they thought about life in Iran and the rest of the world. There seemed to be no better way to do this than to stay with the locals rather than in hotels. So everywhere I went, I tried to organise staying at someone’s house – only once did I stay at a hotel in the whole 3 weeks I was there. Although technically illegal in Iran, I was assured that if they were caught then they would
only get a slap on the wrist. Still, it often involved sneaking in and out of houses – just in case the neighbours thought that they were up to something suspicious, and reported them to the police.
Whoever I stayed with, I was always introduced to their friends and shown around all their favourite places in the city. In Shiraz, we met up with 6 or 7 other Iranians, and drove around the city in their van, hopping from sight to sight, their favourite ice cream shops to their favourite restaurants. Not only did I always get to see the best places and restaurants with expert guides, but I was always treated to such intelligent and interesting conversation along the way, allowing me to get a glimpse into their lives in Iran.
The Sights: Art and Architecture The cities I visited in Iran are a mixture of old and new, with the modern parts of each city spreading out from the ancient centres. And the cities are really looked after well – the amenities are brilliant, there are plenty of parks and the buildings (for the most part) are well restored and lit up beautifully at night.
I started my trip in Shiraz, before heading to Yazd and then into the Dasht-e-Kavir desert to stay in a couple of small villages. From there I went to the beautiful city of Esfahan, and then onto Kashan, the capital Tehran, and finally Tabriz in the north-west.
Iranians have an obsession for intricate detail and symmetry. The largest walls are covered in the most detailed artwork. The buildings and the murals that cover them are completely symmetrical. Sometimes it felt like being inside a painting. The whole country is a work of art, and you become part of it as you wander through the lanes surrounded by crumbling brick walls, frantic bazaars, or the colourful mosaic clad mosques. Sitting amongst it and just absorbing it is a perfect way to unwind. It is a country with no need for art galleries, and a photographer’s paradise.
Just as the date trees spread around an oasis in the middle of a desert or how plants grow around the date trees, life starts in the middle and spreads outward. This Iranian philosophy is reflected in their architecture, with traditional Iranian buildings consisting of an open courtyard full of trees and water,
surrounded by a building with rooms opening out onto the courtyard. It is a beautiful layout, bringing life to an otherwise dry and dusty climate. The traditional houses owned by the carpet merchants, such as
Khan-e Tabatabei in Kashan, are a great example of this. Sitting inside and listening to the water trickling from a fountain and admiring the incredible architecture is a very calming experience!
No Iranian city is complete without a bazaar, and they are often set in incredibly old buildings. The hustle and bustle of buyers and sellers, aromas of tea and saffron, and the darkness lit up here and there by bursts of sunlight through the roof, all combine to create an exciting atmosphere where you don’t mind getting lost for a while. Seeing the Persian carpet shops with all their patterns and designs is also fascinating, not to mention the paintings that are made from carpet – they are so good I didn’t even realise they were carpet at first!
Night time is when Iranian cities really come to life. For example in Shiraz, people flock to the Qur’an gate – the old gate to the city, where everyone goes to picnic (Iranians
are world champion picnickers – even beating Koreans I think…). The walls are all set into the mountain, and beautifully lit up. Similarly the tomb of the famous Persian poet Hafez is another good evening spot. They go to read poetry, study, or have their fortunes told by one of Hafez’s descendants – he chooses a page of Hafez’s poetry at random and it predicts your future, apparently with surprising accuracy. Poetry is an integral part of an Iranian’s life – the two books you can find in any Iranian home are the Koran and the poetry of Hafez…and apparently it’s the poetry that gets read more!
Shiraz is also the gateway to the ancient city of Persepolis, where you can see the remains of this 2500 year old city. The towering columns, bas-reliefs and arches are quite spectacular set against the sparse and rocky surroundings. But as with all popular tourist destinations, it has been way too sanitised for my taste. You walk around nice pathways, everything is very clean and well restored, you can buy ice cream, and queue up to take photos with the hundreds of other visitors. I always feel so far removed from places
like this, they never spark my imagination. But then I guess it’s important to restore and look after important historical sites. In stark contrast, all over the Dasht-e-Kavir, you can find ancient 3000 year old caravanserais that have been left to the elements, and remain untouched. The best one I came across was in Kharanaq, not too far from Yazd. These caravanserais were towns that have been walled in to protect traders making their way along the Silk Road from bandits and animals. They are mazes of alleyways and rooms, crumbling walls, roofs, and staircases. Walking inside lets your imagination run wild. There is no one else there, just you. You can imagine the noise of the traders selling their wares, and the smells wafting along the tiny winding alleyways. You’re not a tourist going to visit an attraction here – you become part of it. It’s this authenticity that makes it so much more special. Of course it’s a shame that they are being left to crumble and fall apart (trying not to fall through the roofs was quite scary), but there are not many places in the world you can see and feel such untouched history.
There
are lots of interesting places to visit from Yazd. This ultra-conservative town is in itself quite incredible –wandering around the old town makes you feel like you’ve gone back about 500 years. Nearby are the Towers of Silence – two mountains with towers built at the top where until 50 years ago (when it was banned by the government) the Zorostrians used to leave their dead to be picked apart by the vultures. The bones were then thrown in a hole in the middle and covered with sulphuric acid. This was to stop the earth from being ‘polluted’ by the corpse which would pollute the ground with
druj, falsehood and disorder. Meybod is another old town near Yazd with some cool places to visit, showcasing some of the genius feats of Iranian engineering.
Badgirs, or wind-catchers, are the traditional Iranian air-conditioning system, and can be seen towering from the corners of many buildings in Iran. They ‘catch’ the wind from whichever direction it might be blowing, and channel that wind either to ventilate a house, or to keep water at very cold temperatures. The water itself is delivered by
qanats, ingenious gravity driven underground canals that transport water long distances
across the desert to the towns and villages. The wind-catchers then keep the water cold and fresh. Pretty clever stuff.
Esfahan is another beautiful city, with incredibly friendly people. It sits along the Zayandeh river, and has many stunning bridges, mosques, minarets, parks and palaces. I particularly loved spending time down by the river at night-time. The famous Iranian proverb
‘Esfahan is half the world’ is not far off – there’s plenty of history and culture there!
Between Esfahan and Kashan you drive right past the underground nuclear facility, which is very well guarded by plenty of anti-aircraft guns – I felt like I would get into trouble at any minute just for looking at them for too long! Kashan is another conservative, very old town, famous for its’ traditional houses. On many of the houses there are two door knockers that make different sounds – one for men and one for women, so the owner knew whether a man or woman should answer the door. I’ll leave you to try and work out the shapes of each one…
As you travel further north, the yellows and browns of the desert slowly become infused with patches of
Persian carpet shop
Those paintings are made from carpet!green, and the weather gets cooler. The weather in Tabriz was perfect, a nice reprieve from the scorching weather of the south and the desert, where it was close to 50 degrees! I would have loved to spend more time in the north of the country, where apparently there are forests, mountains and nice seaside towns along the Caspian Sea. I also heard rumours of there being surf down on Qish island in the south – a bit hard to believe but gives me an excuse to come back another day!
The Desert Having never been to a desert before, I wanted to get right into the midst of it and experience what it was like. So I headed into a tiny oasis village in the middle of the Dasht-e-Kavir to try and find out. I arrived in Khor (the nearest town) approaching sunset, and the following taxi journey to Garmeh was a pretty incredible introduction to the desert. The sun was setting behind the mountains, scattering light and shadows across the vast plains. Sunsets anywhere are nice, but in the desert they are a whole new level. As the sun goes down, the sky erupts
into vivid purples, reds, oranges and blues – changing the colour of the sand and the mountains. Along with the deafening silence and the isolation from anything or anyone else, it is quite a magical experience.
Garmeh is a quiet village, surrounding a luscious oasis full of date trees, flowers and wildlife. A 3000 year old fortress guards this sanctuary, yet another untouched ancient city that you can clamber round. Old men and women while away their days, sitting in the shadows of the collapsing mud walls that line the winding roads of the village. Being in the hottest place in the world gives it a lethargic feel, a place where you can unwind and relax. Not in the mood for relaxing, I decided to climb the mountain that sits behind the oasis to try and get a better view. The view from the top was just breath-taking. The green oasis lies at the bottom of the mountain, with nothing but desert stretching for miles beyond. On the other side is nothing. A vast plain, occasionally interspersed with some jagged rocks, or some mountains in the distance. The isolation is complete, the silence only interrupted by the wind whistling
round your ears, and the hiss of the sand as it sweeps across the rocks.
One evening I visited some nearby sand dunes, and hired a driver to take me there. When we arrived, he pointed in the direction of the dunes and told me to go that way. So off I went, climbing up and down the dunes for a couple of hours. Again, the isolation is just staggering. There is just no sound, no people, no buildings, nothing. Walking round those dunes while the sun set I truly felt like I was the last man on earth.
After Garmeh, I headed to Toudeshk Cho – another tiny village on the edge of the Dasht-e-Kavir, to stay at a homestay set up by a young Iranian guy who used to fish cyclists off the road and get them to stay with his family for a few dollars a night. He is yet another open-minded and interesting Iranian guy to hang out with, an entrepreneur and risk-taker – spending all his savings on a new house to open as another homestay, and willing to sell his kidney to provide the rest of the money to restore it! It
was a great place to relax and spend time with his family, and we headed out to the moving sand dunes one evening to ride camels and watch the sun set once again over the desert. I also attempted to climb another mountain but got hopelessly lost along the way and had to give up!
The Driving Crossing the road in Iran is even worse than crossing the road in Saigon. Instead of thousands of motorbikes, there are cars (mostly the famous Paykans) – but unlike Vietnam, they don’t try and avoid you! Instead they will drive full speed towards you, brake at the last minute, then scream a hail of abuse in Farsi out the window! You really have to time it right, and be willing to run full pelt as soon as you get chance, ignoring the screams of drivers as they drive past.
Actually, one thing I really enjoyed was listening to the tirades the drivers would unleash upon anyone that annoyed them. Although Farsi is a nice language to listen to when spoken gently, it really lends itself to screaming abuse due to the sounds that are made from the back of the
throat, making the words sound like they are really spat out in disgust. The best example I saw was an old women blocking the whole main road for 3 or 4 minutes – when she finally got out the way, the first car accelerated so hard that the car almost did a wheelie, whilst the driver screamed a huge torrent of abuse out the window at the poor woman! This was quite a contrast from Sri Lanka, where upon crashing into the back of another car, both men got out and started having a good old laugh about it!
It seemed strange that such kind, hospitable people could be so angry and abusive on the road. A sentiment I heard repeated more than once was that Iranian people tend to vent their frustrations with life in Iran from behind the wheel. I saw road accidents daily in Iran, and not surprisingly it has the highest per-capita number of road deaths per year! I had a couple of exhilarating taxi rides while I was there, most notably in Tabriz where I felt like I was in a car chase on Grand Theft Auto. My problem is that half of me
is scared out my mind, but the other half is screaming ‘come on, go faster!’.
I also saw plenty of strange means of transportation, particularly in the more remote areas. I once saw three men and a goat struggling to drive on one motorbike!
The Women Another image commonly conjured up in the West is of Iranian women – covered head to toe in black, with only their eyes on show. This is another misconception, and once again, it does exist, but it is the exception rather than the rule. The two main pieces of dress are the
hejab, a headscarf, and the
chador, which is the long black robe that covers the rest of the body. Iranian women over the years have gone through many changes in dress code, as different regimes have had different policies towards women. Reza Shah in the 1930’s controversially banned the
hejab, a move that many Iranian women felt quite uncomfortable with. After the Revolution in 1979, the
hejab was made compulsory once again. For a while the
komiteh (the religious police) were extremely strict, but they are no longer around, and the dress is becoming much less conservative. Of course,
it depends where you are, and on how traditional the family is. Yazd is a conservative city, and most women there are dressed with the
hejab properly in place with no hair showing, and the
chador. Shiraz, Esfahan and Tehran are much less conservative, with a lot of women wearing their
hejab right back on their heads showing plenty of hair. The
chador is much less commonly seen here too, with women wearing fashionable long coats, jeans and heels. Although they are made to dress modestly, the women here really make the best of it – they are beautiful and have great fashion sense, dressing with vibrant colours and patterns, not the pure black they are often associated with. After a while, you begin to see through the headscarf, as if it isn’t even there.
As Iranian women aren’t supposed to show their hair, many try to make up for it by concentrating on making their faces as pretty as possible. This means plenty of make-up, and surprisingly high numbers of nose-jobs. One of my Iranian friends said that she would estimate 90%!o(MISSING)f her friends have nose-jobs. It’s so fashionable to have nose-jobs here now, some girls are
even putting the tell-tale plaster on their nose just to make it look like they’ve had it done! As a side note, I was told on a few occasions that I had a small nose – a compliment I will never forget and will always bring out every time someone makes fun of my massive conk…!
For all the symmetry in their art and architecture, the asymmetrical nature of Islam with regard to men’s and women’s rights causes problems. Islamic law dictates that a woman’s life is worth half that of a man. So, for example in court, a women’s testimony would only be worth half that of a man’s. But although there is blatant discrimination against women, they have more rights than you might think. I think the Western view is often that Iranian women are usually stuck at home, and not allowed to do much at all. This couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, there are more women in university than men. Women can sit in parliament, drive, vote, buy property and work. Even so, women still face discrimination, with only about 20% of these graduates finding work after university. An unfortunate result of this
is that Iran is one of the biggest ‘brain drains’ in the world. As Shirin Ebadi puts it in her book ‘Iran Awakening’, ‘those of us who stayed have watched our young people fan out across the world, animating the societies and economies of nations other than our own’. My friend agreed with this, saying it was such a shame - Iran is losing a lot of good women who are well educated because there is no place for them in Islam. She is in the process of moving abroad herself.
The Culture Differences You would not be wrong to assume that there are quite a few culture differences between life in Iran and life at home. Perhaps the most interesting culture difference is
ta’arof, a concept incredibly confusing at first if you don’t know about it, as it was in my case. My first experience was being summoned to the front of a local bus on a long journey to sit up with the driver and his mates. I was offered some tea, which I politely turned down, only to be offered again. I politely turned it down once more, and was offered it again. Again, I
said
na mersi, only for him to pour me a glass anyway. Well what could I do, I drank it anyway. He offered to give me a refill, which I declined. He was also looking as confused as I was, and after a few more attempts he filled it up anyway. I was unknowingly performing
ta’arof, the process of declining an offer between at least 3 and at most about a thousand times, before reluctantly accepting. (I was also asked if I wanted to drive the bus a bit later…). Even if you actually do want it, you should do a bit of
ta’arof first before accepting. When paying for a bill at a restaurant, a taxi, or in a shop, you might be told
kho balli nadale, roughly translated as ‘you can have it for free’. Of course, they don’t mean it. It’s
ta’arof rearing its’ head again, and the look on their face as you walk off thinking how nice they are will soon make you learn your lesson! Watching Iranians trying to go through a door is always funny too, with numerous offers to let the other person go first, before eventually one of them accepts! I
always like to embrace new cultures, and found it really amusing to take part in it - I would always be in stitches saying
befarmite (after you) about 5 times before going through a doorway!
Another culture difference I experienced whilst I was there was Ramazan. I’ve travelled in Muslim countries during Ramadan before and although it is sometimes difficult, you can usually get food fairly easily. Iran however is a different story. The penalty for eating or drinking in public between sunrise and sunset is being arrested. Although I’m sure it doesn’t apply to foreigners, in a place like Iran and out of respect, I tried my best not to do it. Not that there was ever any food available during the day anyway! A couple of times I had to beg restaurants to give me some food, and if they were kind enough they would hide me away in a corner to eat. Most Iranian people I met didn’t fast though, and they really hated the fact that they were being told when they could eat or drink. Particularly as it is so hot in Iran, not being able to drink water is really tough. As one
of my friends told me, ‘We don’t fast, we just eat fast!’ Because of Ramazan, a lot of people stay up really late at night so that they can eat. One night in Tehran, some friends and I headed out to a
kalapch restaurant at 4am, to eat some sheep brain, tongue and eyes…how about that for a midnight snack!
People tend to stay out late in Iran anyway, and it’s something I really like about the place. During the day, between about 1 and 6, all is quiet. Then everyone begins to come out, and the towns and cities come alive. The atmosphere at night time in any city is electric. The buildings and bridges are lit up beautifully, showing off their amazing architecture. Hoards of people gather in parks, or any green space they can find, to have picnics with their families. As the sun sets they eat, drink tea and smoke
qalyan (or shisha/hookah as we call it), while talking about their day until the early hours of the morning. It’s so nice to see this family centred culture, where everyone still has a good time with no need for alcohol.
Another interesting difference is
the official year in Iran – 1392. You’ll see it on any official documents or bus tickets and so on, and it marks the beginning of Islam. It is pretty important in Iran – so much so that the government doesn’t really like to acknowledge any history before that date, hence why a lot of historical sites tend to be left to fall apart. The history of Persepolis has also apparently been removed from school textbooks for this reason.
Putting your thumbs up is also really rude, and I found myself on several occasions doing a thumbs up and then panicking and quickly trying to cover it up as if I’d never done it! And there’s no avoiding squatty potties and the intimidating bum gun. I’ve somehow always managed to avoid them over years of travelling, but I finally had to accept my fate…
The Politics Before coming to Iran I decided that I wouldn’t talk about politics or religion, as I didn’t want to get into any trouble. But it came up in almost every conversation I had, so it deserves a mention here, although I’ll try and avoid giving any opinions…
First off, the
Iranian people have a wonderful capability of being able to separate the individual from the government – something that we in England and the West in general are unable to do. We tend to lump them all together and tar them with the same brush. Conversely to what you might see in the media, they do not hate American and British people. The images that you see on TV are not the true Iranian people. When the British Embassy was attacked in Tehran, it was carried out by the
basijj. These are government controlled volunteers that are told to do certain things to achieve certain objectives. As one of my friends told me, ‘If you’d swung the TV camera around, you would’ve seen everyone else with their heads in their hands saying ‘What are you doing?’’. It’s worth bearing that in mind next time you see something similar on TV – things aren’t always as they seem. The
basijj are also the guys that go around policing what people wear and do on the streets, and are generally quite feared as they can cause a lot of trouble for people over fairly menial things.
As I mentioned, everyone wanted
to talk politics with me. Sometimes with friends, or sometimes a rather ominous ‘I would like to have a conversation with you’ from a stranger. While I was at Persepolis, two security guards summoned me over and started questioning me about my views on things such as whether I agreed with the dress code and Islamic law; what people in England think of Iranian people; what do I think of Iran; what do I think about sanctions, and so on. Although cautious at first, I realised that this wasn’t an interrogation about my views, it was purely curiosity about how foreigners view their country. Before I knew it, there was a small crowd gathered round me listening, and a long photo session after that! They told me that I should have a few words with our government to sort all the problems out!
OK, I’ll give in to one opinion. The sanctions are stupid. The only people sanctions are punishing are the people of Iran. Factories and shops are closing down, there are no jobs, prices are rising and salaries staying fixed, and the flow of information in science and technology has ultimately been blocked. University students and researchers
can’t get hold of the books they need, and can’t publish anything abroad. It is stifling a nation full of the brightest, most educated, and intellectual people I have ever met. I was often left feeling stupid when I couldn’t answer questions on England’s history or literature, and was filled in by someone much smarter than I could ever be. What a waste of talent! These are people that could be doing such good for this world, and yet they are being prevented. They blame their government for it, saying that it is their fault the sanctions are in place. While this is true to an extent, it is also the fault of a thoughtless and selfish punishment inflicted by Western governments. Surely there must be other ways to reach solutions? Further to this, there are now rumours that the Iranian government are setting up a local intranet in a bid to close down the global internet in Iran. A worrying rumour that I really hope doesn’t materialise!
The Attitudes What I love most about Iran is the attitude of the people. They are living in a society with a strict set of rules, but it doesn’t stop
them from doing everything they can to get around them. Just walking through the streets of Tehran you’ll see what I mean. Bleached blonde girls in high heels wear their
hejab so far back on their head they may as well not even be wearing one. Lots of things are banned, but it doesn’t mean people can’t get hold of them. Behind closed doors, life is the same as any household in England. For this reason, I fell in love with Tehran. Although not the most exciting city historically, I love the people there. Every night we were up to something fun, and I met so many inspirational people. One girl I met in particular had the most positive attitude to life in Iran – she didn’t care about the rules, and claimed it was all about confidence. She would strut around with her
hejab right back, without a care in the world. As she said, it’s all about confidence. The police get their buzz from seeing fear in people - if they don’t see fear, then what do they get? Although her attitude is admirable, I’m amazed she hasn’t got into trouble so far!
On the other hand,
not everyone is able to be so positive all the time. One girl told me dejectedly ‘It’s depressing listening to you talk about all your experiences and what you have done. I’m the same age as you, and haven’t been able to do anything!’ I was lost for words – what can you say to that? It made me think of all the people in England that are stuck in jobs they hate and living a life they find boring, when they have the freedom to do something about it and change their life. We have all this freedom that others long for, yet we impose our own boundaries and restrictions that limit us from living the lives we want. Maybe sometimes we really take our freedom for granted.
The longer I was in Iran and the more people I spoke to, the more I saw how difficult life can be for them. The frustration is palpable. Although many remain upbeat, their eyes betray their feelings – more often than not you can see the despair and hopelessness when they talk about their future. Although the new President Rohjani is more reformist, most Iranians are cautious about being optimistic.
Too many times in the past have they raised their hopes only for them to be dashed. Many talk about leaving – although they are highly educated, there are no jobs for them when they graduate. They are told what they can and can’t do, wear, eat, or drink. The women are not even allowed to dance. But people are torn from leaving their friends and family, and a country that they are intensely proud of, for the freedoms of another country with better prospects.
But it is precisely this reason why I think Iran will change. It is at least one generation of people that are feeling the same way - the people I spoke to are by no means a minority. Iran cannot continue heading in the same direction without some kind of conflict – too many people are feeling the same way, and I think within the next generation or two there will be big changes.
Come to Iran! Iran is a country with a huge image problem, which is unfortunate because it is the wrong image. The pictures of chador-clad women, bearded American-hating fundamentalists, and a dangerous life of living in fear are
quite unfounded. The real image of Iran is epitomised in my mind on the river banks in Esfahan – the moon is setting behind a bridge lit up yellow and orange, casting shadows of teenagers relaxing in its’ arches. The loud chatter from the hundreds of picnicking families is only matched by the booming voices of men reciting poetry and singing, while crowds gather, clapping, cheering and joining in. As you watch, you are offered tea and asked to join families to talk and eat. Compare that to a weekend night in any city in England, and I’ll leave you to judge which one seems more sophisticated, and which one seems more dangerous. As a tourist, it’s an undiscovered gem. But unfortunately for the people of Iran, below this sparkling exterior lies a more rough and tarnished life that is stopping them from shining as much they deserve.
I don’t know whether the images we are shown on TV and the stories we hear in the media are designed to give us a bad image of Iran. I suspect it isn’t, or at least I hope not. I think it is the media’s unfortunate tendency to only report bad
news, all within a short time slot that doesn’t allow the full picture to be shown. But it’s got me thinking – what about all the other places we have misconceptions about – are they wrong too? This trip in Iran has been a journey for me, no longer am I willing to accept things on face value. Until I find out by myself through further research or travel, I will not prejudge a country or people based on a 2 minute news report, or a 2 page newspaper article.
I’ve had one of the best times of my life here – trying to write this blog has been tough, as I had no idea where to start. I’ve seen and learnt so much there is no way I can put it all in to words. I apologise if it’s dragged on a bit, but I felt I had to do the amazing people in this country some justice by writing something that hopefully truly reflects life in Iran.
Thanks to all my amazing Iranian friends that helped me along the way – see you next time!
Love Ross x
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Keep Smiling
Mike Fossey
Another one for my bucket list...
...one I'd not even considered before!