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Published: October 21st 2012
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I cannot even begin to count the number of times I was asked why in the world I wanted to go to Iran by my incredulous friends. Then too, nor can I count the number of times I was embraced by envious friends who dreamed of the same trip.
And that was just the beginning of a trip which continued to be filled with overpowering dichotomies!
As an American I had to be part of a booked and organized tour to visit Iran. And the tour company was basically in charge of shepherding me through the visa application process. When I received my notification that my application for a visa had been accepted, complete with notification number, I thought that meant I merely went to the Iranian Embassy thats two blocks from my Bucharest apartment to ‘pick it up’. But no, nothing was to be that simple! Several weeks later and lots of chasing paperwork around, I returned to the embassy . . . . . . . and was told that I needed now to leave my passport in their hands as they processed all the papers . . . . . . and
that would take several weeks. The prospect of leaving my passport in the Iranian embassy’s possession for a few weeks was, to say the least, frightening. And despite my questioning, I was not going to given any sort of receipt for my passport. But the smiling and helpful young man behind the counter exuded a desire to help. So I trusted. Thats the precursor to another theme of the trip, trust it will all work out . . . . and it does! I think he was just as happy for me as I was when I later returned and picked up my visa laden passport!
Now, thats still not to say that I was going to land in Tehran and be greeted with open arms. No, as an American I was escorted by armed guard down several long, dimly lit corridors into a distant back corner of the airport and photographed and fingerprinted. But I don’t have much room to complain. I mean depending on their nationality, many foreigners arriving in the US are also fingerprinted and photographed. They just don’t usually experience the long, dimly lit corridors leading to distant back corners of the airport!
Through the process I chanted my mantra . . . . trust it will all work out . . . . and it does.
During the trip, I was again and again struck by the warmth, generosity and openness of the Iranian people. Everywhere we went, people sought out the opportunity to talk with us. To be our guides for an evening of traditional Iranian sweets. To join them for their picnic of tea in the town square. And these conversations weren’t just ‘I need to practice my English’ conversations. The conversations were deep, dramatic and dealt with everything from religion to politics, the economy, the great poets of Persian tradition and so much more. This, in a country whose government is not known as warm, generous or open. The dichotomies were endless.
Returning theme in the conversations . . . . . . Iran is ancient Persia. Kings Darius and Xerxes and Cyrus. Persepolis. Zoroastrianism is their religion. The Arabic invasion that brought them Islam was far from universally welcomed by the people of Iran. Islam is far from universally embraced. Granted, we traveled primarily in the larger and more eclectic cities, we
met primarily the educated of the country and the young who did have English skills. Perhaps we did not get a balanced picture of the soul of Iran. But who can in a two week sojourn in a foreign land.
Memorable moment . . . . close to the end of the trip. We’re seated on the raised platform for lunch in a typical indoor courtyard/garden. We ask the waiter to take a photo of us together with our driver and guide. Later, when we look at the photo, the waiter has succeeded in completely blocking Leah, my traveling companion, from view. I mean you can tell there is someone behind that bush. But who is it. However, the three men at the meal are all clearly visible!
Memorable moment . . . . . . passing through the Imam Square in Esfahan - after joining in singing Happy Birthday with a table of young Iranian celebrants in a cool and trendy little pizza joint, followed by an extended conversation with one of the young co-owners of the pizza joint bemoaning the economic woes and social restrictions placed on the youth. As we passed
through the square, another insistent young Iranian lady asked us to join her family for a picnic of tea. Well, I’d had enough caffeine in shared teas that evening that sleep was already going to be a challenging venture - so lets say yes! We joined her and her elderly mother and her shy daughters and her precocious young son who chattered away excitedly in Farsi and perhaps never quite understood that we didn’t understand a word he was saying. Leah struck up a beautiful and gentle relationship with the women. And as our time together looked to be coming to a close, I pulled out some little woolen felt Romanian finger puppets to share. I had brought them along for moments just like this. But in typical Iranian fashion, one good turn deserves another! I found myself quickly festooned in a leather bracelet and a glass ring that the grandmother wanted to share. And saying ‘thank you, but please, no, there is no need, please’ was just not going to be an option that would be accepted. I still wear that bracelet and ring everyday!
Another memorable moment . . . . . while seated in
the Imam Mosque on the square in Esfahan I was approached by a young Muslim man in traditional garb. He had seen me working my Buddhist beads as I contemplated the grandeur of the universe in this absolutely exquisite mosque. He spoke about as much English as I did Farsi - which means we basically had no possibility of a spoken conversation. But in the 30 or so minutes that we sat together he was able to make clear to me that he respected me because it was clear that spiritual matters are important to me. I hope I made clear my same respect for him. Our shared pantomime centered on the hope that there is in the world when people come together. Governments and some organized religions seem eager to keep us apart. But when good people share their sense of conviction and hope, even with no spoken language in common, only good can result.
And thats the bottom line that I brought away from this trip. The world could use a few more good old common folk talking to each other, finding their way into each others hearts and understanding our shared dreams and our
shared humanity.
Peace!
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Iran - dichotomies and hope...
Astonishing, amazing and totally awesome. Such gorgeous photos. I loved the one that showed the surrounding land that was around all the beauty you were in. Thank you for sharing your special journey.