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Published: August 5th 2007
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Hafez's tombstone
Below this, perhaps a new friend lies... When I visited the tomb of the famous Persian poet Hafez, he was a complete stranger to me. Although I'd read some of his poetry, I could not comprehend the all-time rock star status he seemed to hold amongst Iranians. This garden complex in Shiraz was where I saw XXX-rated scandals: young couples holding hands, kissing cheeks and laughing in unsegregated groups holding their anthologies of Hafez's poetry. What was this place?
What was the power this 13th century poet held even in this present modern world? It was far beyond imaginable thinking of current college friends sitting together reading poetry with such enthusiasm. The Iranian vision I witnessed looked like a replay of the Beatnik era decades ago.
I asked my guide (and later friend) Seyyed. Why are people so emotional here, not giving a bloody hell.... even when forbidden PDA is happening everywhere?
After all, I had found Iranians to be so hospitable to me as a guest to their country, but they were constantly on their guard in public. A kind woman who fixed my chador for me at Masjeds, a villager who tucked my stray strands of hair into my scarf.
Hafez's tomb
If only I knew the true value of this place before I visited... What was this garden of Hafez?
"Hafez is a way of life," Seyyed said, "More copies of his poetry is sold here than those of the Qu'ran. It is complex. We play games with his words, we seek advice from his words. We flip to random pages of Hafez to ask for his help, and his verses guide us." He saw my blank expression and smiled warmly. "you will understand in the future. fortune telling is not strictly forbidden even under the Islamic regime. If it is Hafez".
I returned to New York. I personally think I look just like all the other Japanese girls studying in the US. We're Asians, we all look the same, right???;-) Wrong. Apparently I now look like a terrorist to US immigration. The officer was going to let me through, until he saw my Iranian visas.
"Miss Yucky Jennifer Crummy-"
"Kurumi," I corrected him, "YOOki Jennifer Ku-ROO-mi."
"Whatever. could you state your purpose to your recent visits to Ai-RAN?"
I personally could have gone on a soliloquy about the beauty i'd seen there, the treasures of a nation and culture misunderstood. But no, he would not understand. he looks
Harim Khan citadel, Shiraz
A romantic city, with beautiful architecture. Nostalgia is a key theme here... more like a Yankees baseball fan than a theater-geek.
"I'm an Art History major with a concentration in Middle Eastern Architecture." I said, but that wasn't a good enough reason. Soon I was escorted to a back room to be questioned. During my wait I made friends with other young potential terrorists called Rahim, Daryoosh and Ali. They were only visiting their Iranian-American relatives.
Despite the 2-hour interrogation, I was freed.
"I'm japanese! I like taking pik-chaaaa! " seems to have worked with my camera-clicking gesture. I was confident because of my Japanese passport, we have it easy around the world. but what of my friends', as they awaited for their maroon-colored passports to be returned to them. For hours. For days.
I've been studying Iranian history at a rapid pace, reading both Iranian and non-Iranians authors to broaden my knowledge. But they all speak of grief, no matter how breathtaking and inspiring their writings are. They don't convince readers to travel there. The few travel journals of westerners sound so condescending, exaggerated and foolish. Really, I'm not a famous scholar of Iran, but I personally feel i should tell the world of what i saw,
Eram Gardens, Shiraz
Viewing unique architecture, lovely gardens and the young blooms of sweet roses a stupid college student.
After hours of working as a bartender and office-bitch to save up for journeys, i pondered if another trip to Iran would make me a more knowledgeable writer, if I am doing the any good by writing about what I truly saw in Iran. Any Impact? For the first time, I flipped to a page of Hafez.
PLEASE
We are at the Nile's end,
where the sands and debris pile upon our shores...
Dear one, come.
Please come, my dear one.
Please.
I'm going back before school starts. Other than new sites, i'm revisiting places that will mean more to me than my first visits thanks to my studies. I don't know if I have interpreted Hafez correctly, but I'll find out next week. Even if it means another interrogation at the airport, it's worth it. By far. To visit Hafez's tomb and pay my respects at Shiraz, he won't be stranger to me.
i'm confident I'll receive a generous answer.
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Patt
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Love it !
Keep blogging, Little One. I love to read your adventures! I'm having so much fun in the Yucatan and take clothes off (beach) - not having to put 'em on like you! Patt aka pattusa