shiraz

after isvahan we flew to shiraz, the ex-wine capital of the country. isvahan was more small, a walking city, while shiraz required a car for almost every visit. we went to persepolis, a TON of the shah's gardens, and a bunch of mosques.


persepolis was realy impressive. i wish i could remember more of gilgamesh.





i liked the gardens beause they were so lively and full of people on a friday afternoon. families would get together and picnic on the lawns. people don't do that enough here. i was actually more interested in people watching than tourist stuff, and was a bit upset that shiraz wasn't that great for walking and wandering.



water



a gardener taking a break



a man warding off evil spirits with insence



kids playing

i was really overwhelmed by the architecture in some of these mosques. it's so intricate and colorful. the palaces were amazing too - one was completely covered with mirrors and decorations on the inside.

we weren't allowed in one of the really important mausoleums because we aren't muslims, but another welcomed us with open arms. we did have to wear chadors, though, and take off our shows, which was not the case in the other mosques we visited. the only problem was that it was so hot, the last thing we wanted was to add layers, but it was also SO hot that it hardly made a difference.






taxi drivers

taxi drivers are in my opinion the most reliable source of information when it comes to popular sentiment. yes, they are often the most disgruntled, but they also don't feel indebted to the government in any way, most likely not educated to the point of ignorance, and anonymous enough to speak their minds.

our driver in shiraz was a young, plump fellow who went by the name of omid. he tried ever so hard to give us a good tour of the city - he wasn't lazy at all, and talked animatedly almost the whole time we were in the car. he also had a habit of whistling out of tune to persian pop music, which got annoying for my front-seated, music snob self, but he was extremely adorable. he did not speak much about politics; he was born right when the revolution happened, and knew only what his father told him about the old shiraz. he had no basis of comparison to bitch about the current situation; he was only 27, with a wife and a baby girl.

one of the men who drove us into teheran's center was older - in his fifties, presumably. i was sitting in the front, and could not help but noticing a black skull with a hat and fiery red eyes that lit up every time he put the brakes on the car, sitting where most drivers have a religious figure on the dashboard. i asked my mother to enquire about what it was, and he answered, only half-jokingly "it's khomeini. he's watching us. see his eyes? and headgear?"
"shh, don't tell, or i'll be sent to jail for six months!" he added.

another asked my mother why i did not speak farsi. she answered that i grew up in switzerland, and that she raised me speaking russian. then he asked her why on earth she brought me to a country where i had to cover my head up in such a way.

a third driver stopped on the way to our house to fill up his water bottle from one of the many coolers on the street. he returned, and said "this is the only good thing the islamists have brought the country. clean, cold water at every step. otherwise, they disgust people from religion."


antisemitism/israel

so even switzerland has condemned israel. no comment...

a lot of people in the states are under the impression that iranians hate jews. this is bullshit. they hate israel, not jews. gosh, i've found that they look down on arabs more than jews! i spoke with a very intelligent friend of my mother's (her nickname is "information source") and she said that though people are incredibly anti-israel, there have been no attacks on any jews or jewish businesses in the city. also, she and my mother both say that the current iranian president is no more or less anti-israel than the others have been; the media simply made a big deal of it this time (they've all said similar things to his "wipe israel off the map" comment), in the context of iraq, etc.

tea

the most pleasant thing about iran is teatime. they serve tea with dates and thin sugar slices (not sure how to explain - kind of like wafers, but hard.) in the more liberal places, you can smoke chicha as well, and you usually sit on a big carpeted bench. it's very relaxing and the tea actually cools you down.




i am also in love with the spice and fruit markets.




(fetishising these things makes me feel like such ... a bloody orientalist.)

isvahan, ctd

reading

i am reading the moor's last sigh by salman rushdie (who went to school with my father!) though this is not his most controversial work, my mother advises me to cover up the novel when reading in public. her cousin ((who is, admittedly, a bit of a hysterical worrywart) flips out and makes me cover it with newspaper.


the quest for khomeini postcards

you'd think it would be as easy to find khomeini postcards in an islamic state as it is to find che guevara portraits in cuba; alas (or rather, luckily), it is not the case. every time we ask any shopkeeper or merchant whether they sell pictures of the islamic reformer, they laugh. one told us to go buy children's schoolbooks, because he is found on the first page of every single one; another told us, after getting over his initial surprise and giggles, to visit the ministry of propaganda, because no-one else would sell them. it isn't that they receive such questions with disgust (on the most part, at least) - it's more that they don't see why anyone would want one. (this is understandable, seeing as the man's face is painted on every other building, shown on every other poster and displayed in numerous windows and stores.) obviously, the islamic revolution isn't supported by all - in fact, it is difficult to conceive of how anyone who is not a strict muslim would want an islamic state - so the staunch reforms aren't universally popular here and khomeini's face isn't the most pleasant sight to a nonpracticing, or to someone who just wants to relax with a glass of wine after work, for example.




the armenian quarter (julfa)

the churches in the armenian quarter of esvahan are fascinating. the architecture is very similar to that of a traditional mosque, but a good portion of the paintings inside the orthodox churches are completely biblical, and there are crosses everywhere. it's an interesting mix - the first few meters (from the ground) of the walls are persian patterns and designs, as is the structure of the building itself, but the images painted on are almost boschian scenes of heaven, hell, the last supper, the crucifixion, etc. this is an awful (illegal) picture.




we visited a total of three churches. in the last one, we were let in by a small child (it was in a private courtyard of some sort, where people lived.) after walking around for about five minutes, we heard some very angry screaming, and saw that an old lady was telling off the little girl for letting us in.


"church closed. no time." she scowled at us.



my aunt then started to speak with her in armenian...



and her demeanor changed instantly. they chatted away happily. they were the same height and both wore a similar headscarf in different colors, so they made a nice picture.




the rest of the armenian quarter lives up to its name - it's chock full of armenians, most of whom run coffee shops or grocery stores. they are mostly incredibly friendly, and even more so once they find out you speak their language. we visited a museum of the armenian culture in iran, which was quite nice as well - there was a dedicated medal from charles aznavour (an armenian), various relics and lots of scriptures and bibles. the traditional dresses were interesting as well, especially since my great great grandparents probably wore them (they lived in the area back in the day and were, according to my mother, kind of a big deal in the world of trade)

the airport, pt 2

at the airport, once my bags were scanned and i was frisked throughly (oohlala) by a very nice lady, i was asked to take a drink from the water bottle i was carrying. i presume this was to make sure i was not taking alcohol or flammable liquids on the plane with me. i'm very surprised that the americans haven't thought of checking water bottles yet; maybe they should start.

we did not, however, have to take our shoes off - luckily for my aunt, who hid her little penknife that she used to cut fruit with in her sneaker. i can't begin to imagine what a scene this would have caused had she been caught with it back in yankee land. it's funny, though, because her knife was taken away before our last flight, but returned to her once we landed. in america and switzerland, if you're caught with anything sharp - even as inoffensive as tweezers - they're gone for good. figures, though - the terrorists must understand each other's needs for dangerous weapons.

4th of july

it's the 4th of july and i didn't even notice. perhaps i was half expecting anti america riots in the streets. people really aren't that anti american; we prefer to speak french or russian amongst ourselves and protest strongly when asked if we are from 'amrika' but even if we did speak english loudly and profess our love for the US, i don't think it would make a big difference. have i mentioned the utter lack of tourists in iran so far? it's wonderful. i don't feel like i'm getting a tourist experience at all (need i mention the toilets again?). anyway, here is today's tally:

0 taxi rides
1 market
1 very cute tourist walking barefoot in a mosque
1 nap in the gardens of a gorgeous mosque
1 clean toilet
2 palaces
3 mosques
5 strangers asking where we were from
6ish hours of sleep
10 bottles of water
what feels like hundreds kilometers by foot

zoroaster vs. khomeini: round 1

i've been looking for pictures of khomeini to bring back for my friends (you can stone me for buying into this kitschy irony stuff, but the portraits are just something else!), so while browsing around for gifts, i asked my mother and great aunt to enquire about them in a shop. my aunt strode over (she's a very fiesty seventy something) and asked a young shopkeeper if he had khomeini paraphernalia; he shook his head sternly and according to my great aunt, even 'bared his teeth' at her. we bought some scarves in his shop anyway, and as we were leaving, he came outside and told us to wait. he reached into his pocket, and handed us pictures of zoroaster. it was then that we realized the pendant around his neck was a zoroastrian symbol, and that he had good reason to dislike the ayatollah.

we also saw numerous manifestations of polygamy, which i have to say i am strongly against, just because i wouldn't be able to deal with it and don-t understand how anyone would in this day and age. the women were very much covered; it got messy when they tried to eat ice cream by passing it under their chadors so as not to show their mouths. i wish fellini had made a movie with a scene like that, it seems appropriate, somehow.

tomorrow we are going to the armenian quarters, another mosque outside the city, and azoroastrian temple. very excited. i still need to buy iranian pop music cd's, and some traditional music too because it's really gorgeous.

days 1-3

i am in ishvahan now, at a fancy hotel with real toilets and air conditioning. spent the last few days in teheran at my great aunt's - all the places in teheran that ive been to, the toilets were holes in the ground (but still better than any french highway stop!) it's funny how much toilets start to matter when you travel. we went to the neighborhood my mother grew up in, and had coffee (bad, bad coffee!) at their equivalent of the hungarian pastry shop. we walked around a ton in teheran, visited the shah's palace and the museum of the crown jewels, which were both impressive. backto teheran in a few days - first, 2 in ishvahan and 2 in shiraz with a short stop at persepolis.

ishvahan is gorgeous. the kind of place you want to go on for your honeymoon, it's very romantic and clean (the mayor taxes heavily, but in exchange he built nice parks and the city is cleaned every 12 hours!) tomorrow we are visiting ancient mosques and a zoroastrian temple, as well as the bazaar.

i am having a great time. it's so interesting and beautiful, and let me say straight off that everything - yes, absolutely everything that american news channels and politicians say about iran - is total and utter bullshit. ignore them ALL. teheran has more in common with a big cosmopolitan city than a terrirost camp. the people are incredibly sweet, there is no sentiment of terror (nothing like int he US - i feel safer here than in geneva!) and the atmposphere is funloving, busy, but relaxed. i feel like an estranged cousin at a family gathering - not completely clueless but kind of out of the loop. which is also a bit how i feel in the states, come to think of it, just less stressed out and incredulous.

aerial view

the spirits of great cities rise at night. you can tell more about the city from above in the dark than on the pavement at midday. paris glows a voluptuous balmn, ready to take you in, wine you, dine you and leave you grinning. new york glares up, glancing at her wristwatch. geneva shines, but is static. and teheran glitters - a glistening gold.

landing

two young women who were on my flight from paris fretted about their appearance upon their arrival.
"is my hair showing?" they asked each other in perfect French, thinking that they would be arrested on the spot for flashing a lock of fringe or a patch of skin.
they left the building nervously and found themselves emvbraced by several family members who exposed half theur heads and even a few stray necks and ankles. as they chatted animatedly in persian, they saw that it was nothing like it is on TV.

compassion

compassion is a quality that new yorkers seldom express; the closest we get is pity, or worse, liberal guilt. i won't speak for the rest of the usa (it speaks for itself.)
in teheran, compassion is promoted similarly to the way in which sex is sold in the US. it is put forward by koranic verses and speeches by martyrs on poseters accompanied by serene images - an equivalent to pop slogans and nude celebrities in times square. and it works - people are quick to express their feelings and empathize with one another, even if they are complete strangers. it seems like everyone is a friend, even if i don't understand what they are saying.

the arabs

i have noticed that iranians are horribly racist towards arabs. they hate to be likened to the race of "nomads without a culture". my great aunt gets very angry when she sees posters in arabic (mostly quoting the koran)because she is afraid of their inluence. she complains almost five times a day.

"i was going to reserve rooms at a very famous hotel in isvahan, bur it was completely full!" exclaimed my great aunt on the day of our arrival in teheran.
"you know why?" she continued. "the bloody arabs have arrived! they look like crows, their women - ridiculous! i saw them walking around today with their little eye holes and their huge robes, just like crows!"
we laughed, picturing a flock of crows teetering around confused and half blinded. there was no doubt about the tragic, comic truth behind her observation.
"good thing we're more civilized, here!" she added, not without contempt but certainly not ungrateful either.

the teheran bazaar

the bazaar is a curious place. everybody is running around doing something, and not in that busier than thou way ubiquitous in manhattan. barteringis near compulsory, and you can buy everything under the sun. you can even purchase lingerie (yes, out in the open! the iranians aren't puritans, after all!) - not just granny pants or white cotton, but everything from sports bras to racy ensembles. but be sure to watch out for the portrait of ayatollah khomeini winking in the corner of the underwear display bin, wedged between lacy red bras and frilly white panties.

veiling

What's all the fuss about? veiling is such a minor detail in everyday life here. it's not uncomfortable or oppressive; in fact, it keeps your hair clean, which is definitely convenient in a huge city like teheran. i don't know why feminists are often so adamantly against veiling. i would consider myself a very secular, very liberal feminist, and i see no problem with it. onthe contrary, the culture here does not breed ridiculous standards of beauty because hey! you're not allowed to show off your airbrushed legs to the world! "does my butt look big in this" is a non-issue, for obvious reasons. so much for the Symbol of Patriarchy - what's worse? covering up and being left alone, or feeling pressure to dress like a porno star and be insecure about it? i would certainly recommend a week of veiling to carrie bradshaw, in any case.

(sometimes, when i'm waiting for my family to hurry the fuck up and walk faster, or when i'm peeing in a hole, or gagging at the coffee or getting frustrated because i don't understand farsi, i do miss new york something rotten. but i am so happy to be here.)

my iran guidebook

I bought a guidebook for Iran and have been poring over it ceaselessly. I am getting very excited about the trip, and the book is kind of hilarious. I love how in the "Where to have a drink" all they say is "Are you kidding?"; in the "Where to go out dancing" part, they simply write, "In your dreams." When discussing alcohol, the guidebook (it's a Lonely Planet book) encourages travelers to "detox their bodies" in Iran, as the illegal booze is sketchy and the rest not so great. They say that there may be Armenians that sell beer and wine, though and that there's an Armenian restaurant in Teheran that's a recognized Christian establishment - which means women don't need to wear veils (!!!), and Muslims aren't legally allowed in. This looks like a good place to go when I feel as though I am being oppressed by the patriarchy.

Speaking of the patriarchy, I took a class last semester that was all about women and gender politics in the Muslim world. It was a typical liberal arts anthro course, starting off with "basic" facts and information about Islam and women and descending into a vicious cycle of defensive apologies and cultural relativism. No, it really wasn't that bad - just a bit frustrating - but the most important that the course highlighted was the way in which Western feminists often feel the need to "save" their Muslim sisters from oppression (i.e. veiling). The truth (or should I say, "truth") is that the veiling part of it is often voluntary and women want to cover themselves out of piety, etc. I agree that presuming they are oppressed and using the veil as a symbol of oppression is a terrible thing, even if I feel oppressed wearing a veil. Also, veils are the last thing one should worry about, considering how hard it is for women to get a divorce, for example. I am curious to see whether my views will change when I'm there. 2 more days - so excited!

the iranian embassy

On Monday, I had to go to the Iranian embassy in Bern to take care of some very important business. I had to change my place of residence on my Iranian passport to Switzerland (it was in my best interest not to "be" from America, even though I'm not really a Swiss resident anymore!) and most importantly, to get an exit stamp in order to actually leave Iran after my trip. It was a rather interesting experience...

I arrived by car half an hour after the Iranian Consulate closed. Obviously, this was unintentional - the Internet told me I could go to the Embassy that closed at 5, but after talking to a security guard, it turned out that only the Consulate could help me and that I should come back the next day before noon. I did not want to go to Bern again, because Bern sucks, driving is boring and even Mohammed would have a hard time getting up that early with jetlag, so I used my high school theater skills to get my way. With lots of apologetic eyelash batting, I managed to convince them that I was leaving on Wednesday, and that it was absolutely imperative for them to give me the stamp because I was visiting an ageing relative and it may be the last time I could see her. I was also starting a new job in Geneva right after my trip, and had to get back in time. It worked, and they led me into a room full of Korans and portraits of Ayatollahs. I was really scared, but decided to take photos anyway, even though it's probably illegal.





I had my veil handy, and asked whether they would prefer me to wear it - I'd hate to offend them - but they just shrugged and did not appear to care. Shame - they were really missing out on some serious sexiness (not really.)



When the guy (presumably the ambassador) returned, the inquisition started.
"Do you speak Farsi?"
"No, I grew up in Switzerland, so I speak French."
"Hmm. You can't read the documents."
"I'm sorry."
"Hmm. Where are you living?"
"I was a student in the States, but I have finished and now live in Geneva."
"Have you ever lived anywhere else?"
"No, I have always lived in Geneva."
"Are you married or engaged to an American?"
"No."
"Do you have American nationality?"
"No."
"When are you going to Iran?"
"Next... Uh, on Wednesday."
"Why?"
"I have family there, and I'd like to know my country better. I'm really looking forward to it."
"Have you ever been to Iran?"
"When I was very small - two or three..."
"Hmm. So you need?"
"An exit stamp, and a change of residence to Switzerland, please."
"That will be 22... no, 24 francs."
"Alright."

And I waited in the room for about 15 minutes until he came back with everything. He made me sign a document in Farsi ("Just sign here." "But what does it say?") and fill in my address and phone number. I gave my old details, because I'm not actually a Swiss resident anymore - I was really scared he'd phone my ex-house and am still rather paranoid that the Iranian secret police will find out and blacklist me as an American spy or something equally awful.

Finally, I was free to enter and leave Iran without any problems, though I did have a hard time manipulating the triple-locked door on the way out.

political statements

I have a pink "No War on Iran" pin on my bag. Or rather, I did until it fell off. I got it at a panel I went to about the political situation there and how uncannily similar it is to the mess America made in Iraq. My uncle talked, he's a smart guy.

Lots of people asked me about the pin, and why I thought that; I just answered that bombing a country isn't a very nice thing to do, no matter what the reason is. You can't really argue with that, right?

I realized I'd be in Iran during the World Cup Football Final. This sort of upsets me; I kind of wanted to drink a lot during that match.