To the Caspian

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From the bus station we went by taxi to Ali and Mahshid's home in eastern Tehran where I passed out on the couch. Around 4pm Ali returned from work and we loaded the car and off we went straight into a 3 hour traffic jam, its the aniversary of Khomeini's death and everyone has a five day holiday. I still thing the traffic is insane but it doesnt bother me so much now, we stopped in a restaurant on the side of the road and were joined by nine other people, apparently this was the meeting spot, I didnt eat though, I am eating much more than I am used to as it.

Ali, Mahshid and Mozghan are members of a hiking group as were the others, except for the Doctor who got roped into coming somehow. He is a retired Academic from the University of Michigan and soon became my main translator. Iranian's dont rush and it took me a few days to become accustomed to the constant stops and diversions.

There were a number of other stops along the way before reaching Rasht about 11pm it took roughly 7 hours to travel 300km or so. The group stayed in the home of some students, one of which, Hadi is a group member, I really liked him and we hit it off straight away. The apartment was in a walled court yard and had two small bedrooms, as a guest I got one of them. The majority of the others slept on the room sized carpet in the lounge dining area, I was so tired I went straight to sleep, the others were up partying till about 4am it seems.

I still rise pretty early, it was amusing to see so many people sprawled all over the room. Eventually everyone woke and a large plastic sheet (with little santa's all over it) was laid out on the floor and everyone sat around it, eating bread, cheese, jam and eggs which seems to be standard Iranian breakfast fare. The group contributes to a kitty daily which pays for food requirements, I was never asked to contribute although I would have willingly.

It was around 1.30pm by the time everyone had showered and were ready to head to Bandar Anzali and the Caspian Coast. The first beach we visited was in a special economic zone which was dominate by a partly built trade complex, when we walked in a businessman thinking me a potential investor (foreigner LOL) dragged me all over the place on a grand tour, my new friends in tow to make sure I didnt get in trouble, the rapid English shooting back and forth had them very confused it seems, as I had to explain what was going on later.

The beach was a bit dirty and I think they saw my reaction because they asked me if they should go elsewhere, the second beach was much better. Ali and Hadi went off to get some food for lunch while everyone else went for a dip, it was interesting to see the ladies bath in jeans and headscarves.

The Caspian sea is more like a large lake and the water was brown and reasonably shallow but still great on a hot day. I bumped into a lad I met in Shushtar 700km to the south, he invited me for lunch and to play volleyball with his friends, I had to decline however.

The guys in the group are very close and it was fantastic to wallow in a culture so radically different and outwardly conservative. I remember how shocked I was when the women took off the headscarves in private and I realised thay had hair. After lunch it was volleyball on the beach and smoking the Sheesha (Nagerlah, Hookah), then a round of photos, then back to Rasht. I was supposed to return to Tehran later in the evening to hook up with the flight to Kuwait.

On arrival at the apartment it was time to gather on the floor to eat a huge and great meal, Persian cooking is simply fantastic and very healthy. By this time I did not want to leave, when would I get the opportunity to mix with such warm people so different to myself, yet in many ways so similar, so on a whim I chose to miss the flight.

For a time everyone was most confused and concerned, but the Doctor smoothed it all over and Mohsen the comedian of the group was soon having good natured digs at me again to everybodies great amusement. The Doctor ofcourse would translate and then laugh as he translated my smart arse comments it was nice to see the funny one blush every now and again.

It was a fun night and they soon stopped worrying about my travel plans.

That night the women took over my room and I got stuck with the snorers so I didnt sleep well, on waking the Doctor and I took a stroll around Rasht. He lived here for a time and so knows the city well it was still reasonably cool and the city quite attractive on the way back we picked up the bread for breakfast hot from the oven, tastes like heaven.

Today we head for the mountains, the Iranian's love nature yet many do not pick up their rubbish when they leave a place, it is extremely common to see groups of people cooking up big meals over an open fire where ever you go. In the late afternoon we arrived at a pretty gorge dotted with concrete platforms and rotundas where Iranian family groups were relaxing enjoying dinner and each others company. Cows with rather long horns wandered about scaring the children, after 10 minutes or so we found an appropriate spot overlooking a stream.

The rock oven was soon set up and a huge watermellon placed in the stream. I was feeling a little off, having had constipation for days but after going to the toilet I was feeling some what better, this changed when I saw the horrified faces of the women and girls in the toilet block when I emerged from my cubicle. Some smart ass at sent me into the wrong toilets.

Most of the shyness had disappeared and I was now interacting better with the group members, playing cards and joking around, conversation improved as they practiced their English on me and I was learning a few words here and there though I struggle to pronounce things properly.

As the sun began to set all the picnic paraphenalia was loaded up and packed in the cars (4 now) and it was back to Rasht, the Doctor had arranged a large empty appartment, with four bedrooms, two bathrooms and a large dining/lounge area although it was a bit decrepid.

It also had an ancient western toilet which although broken I managed to get going enough to be enjoyable although the seat disintigrated a little more each time I used it.

I got my own room, the guys however thought it would be funny to stick all their gear in there to stir me up.

It was at this appartment that I understood what the group is about, and yes they do go on hikes, but it is more than that, on the anniversity of Khomeini's death they blacked out the windows, checked to ensure the sound of the music wouldnt carry far enough to draw attention and pulled out the snacks and ordered takeway.

The lights were extinguished as Ali picked up his guitar, then gathering in circle (20 strong now) they sang. I found out later that the songs pre date the revolution, folk songs and traditional music based on tragedy and myth. That they celebrated their culture and their wish for freedom so passionately in contradiction of the most Islamic Holiday of the year, shows incredible bravery as it would be likely that they all would have been arrested if caught. I was swept up in the music and the singing as well, although I didnt know the meaning of the words, I dont believe that mattered in the least, the companionship and the message reminded me of the things I read about the 60's and 70's in the west. The word Bohemian comes to mind although I am not sure I understand its meaning.

I sipped on my sour cherry juice and just watched spellbound for hours as these people from radically different backgrounds sang and danced in protest of the system they are forced to live under and to celebrate what they hope it will one day be.

As the evening wore on Farid and his sister took centre stage he playing the guitar, she singing in a voice so clear and so haunting it soared over the others, bringing a tear to my eye, Persian can be such a beautiful language.

As the participants tired and fell asleep the others would tenderly cover them with a blanket, the affection these people share is facinating and yet so foreign to me. I wondered why this has disappeared in my country, are we so blessed in everything material that we forget how to look out for each other, is a big screen TV better than this?

Khosoro and I are fast becoming friends we have spent many hours discussing literature and art nuvea (forgive the spelling) film. His knowledge is much greater than mine, I can however hold up the conversation as I have read many hundreds of books, I struggle to remember the names of authors and book titles so it was frustrating at times.

The next morning there was much debate over the next days activities, I was in the shower at the time and had no initial input into the outcome of the vote, however when I emerged I was asked where I wanted to go and that was that, debate over.

It was of to Musaleh "The Bride of Iran" travelling through green rural ares dominated my awesome mountain scenery, today however duie to an accident up the moutain we would not reach the village, after being turned around we went to a very good restaurant for lunch. I tried a whole heap of new foods including pickled garlic and fish roe.

On a mountain road at one of our frequent stops the Doctor got a little to close to the edge of the road and dropped both his right wheels into a shear 4 foot ditch, while the rest of the vehicle was still on the road. One second the group members were failing to get the care out then suddnly there was at least 50 men trying to physically man handle the car back onto the road, this ofcorse wasnt going to work, so after a lot of excited yelling and screaming, a large vehicle was diverted in its passing and ropes materialised from everywhere. In a few moments the car was dragged back onto the road only a little worse for wear.

The next day after another night of singing and dancing it was time to return to Tehran and we set off at about 1.30pm this time the trip took about 12 hours, we stopped a number of times to buy olives and pickled garlic, to have a big kebab lunch on the shores of a lake and again later for icecream, at this stop the cars went there own way so I irt was time to say goodbye to some of my new friends.

The last stop was at a petrol station where there must have been at least 500 cars lined up waiting for fuel. Farid the young male model wasn in line behind us and was pushing our vehicle forward with little bumps, so Ali suggested we give him a little scare so at the count of three we both jumped out of the car and wernt after him, as soon as he saw us he ran like hell it was all very amusing and good fun.

At 1.30am we arrived back at Ali's house he cooked up some screambled eggs with tomato and peppers and we all crashed.

In 5 days with the group I rarely put a hand in my pocket and on the occassions I did I was told to take it out agin. Incredible hospitality and kindness.

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Photos

The Group
The Doctor

The Group
Marshid

The Group
On the beach at the Caspian Sea

The Group
On the beach at the Caspian Sea

The Group
On the beach at the Caspian Sea

In the mountains
Thats Ali with his eyes closed

In the mountains
Mania and Khosro

At the lake
Khosro and myself

At the lake
The dam

Comments

[Hugh, Montreal]

Stop lying
"The last stop was at a petrol station where there must have been at least 500 cars lined up waiting for fuel.” I think you lie about Iran. I was there in the worst situation and I have never seen a line like that.