Travel to Yazd

When I first was planning this trip I was a little wary on whether I was going to include Iran in my itinerary or not. I had always been curious about this rogue nation of sorts. After giving it a lot of thought I decided that I was going to be so close in Ashgabat that I would have to go and see it for myself. I had missed an opportunity to go there in February during my Middle East tour and was not going to miss it twice. After jumping through major hoops to get my visa to go there (it takes upwards of 2-3 months and in America you have to go through the Pakistan Embassy because there are no diplomatic relations between our countries), I was off on my adventure.

Of course, the first day of my trip when I arrived in Bali, Iran was caught testing missiles for all the world to see and there were strong words from both the US and Israel about what may happen. So I had nearly three weeks to nervously keep up on the situation and hope that war did not break out or that Israel didn’t make a preventative strike against Iran. As the day I was to cross into Iran arrived, all seemed well after the Geneva nuclear talks last week so I decided that I would see what happens.

I left Ashgabat very early and drove the 30km or so through the beautiful mountains to a very high elevation border station, where after saying goodbye to my Turkmen guide I had to walk across to the Iran border. Lets just say the soldiers who kept asking to see my passport were shocked that I was American and that I had all of the proper paperwork. When I finally did get through this minefield of soldiers I met my guide Sia inside as soon as I opened the door which was a major relief for me. I was a little worried that he may be late or not show as I am not used to having other people set up my tours as you must if you travel to Iran as a westerner.

Sia immediately made me feel comfortable and had been having a dialogue with the border guard who was very nice to me and apologized in Farsi to me about what I had to do next. They made me do a full fingerprinting with both hands, like I had been arrested. I was obviously wary of this and had never seen this before. However, Sia assured me they do this to everyone and that it was in response to what the US does to people who apply to visas to enter the US. I understand the reciprocity angle so I decided it was probably OK. I only wish the guidebook or my travel agency had mentioned that in my itinerary ahead of time-so I would be prepared.

After clearing customs, we were off through the gorgeous mountains on a three hour journey to Iran’s second largest and holiest city, Mashad. We stopped in a place called Toos along the way to see a very impressive Mausoleum and then made it in time for lunch in Mashad. Mashad is a beautiful city that is very green and has many parks. It was a very pleasant place to spend a few hours and our lunch was certainly an experience. As usual in the region, lunch was kebabs or sorts but the Iranian people do not use knives to cut their meat. Both Sia and the driver were using only spoons and forks to eat and cut. This baffled me and I was confused. I did try and felt retarded trying to cut meat with a spoon so I did ask for a knife which the waiter was confused about but Sia made sure he got me one and all was right again in the world-I was able to eat with proper utensils!

After lunch, Sia brought me to the biggest park in Mashad and we walked around and chatted about everything about Iran-its history, cities, marriages and finally we got to politics. When I finally got around to asking about Iranian politics and the current events of the day-he really clammed up and wouldn’t give me an answer. This was surprising to me but interesting at the same time. When I asked about his feelings about the current Iranian President, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, who most of the world sees as a crazy tyrant, he replied, “I just try to do my job to provide for my family”. He continued on to say that he hopes our two governments can work out the current dispute and he seemed thoroughly optimistic that our nations were about to enter into a new phase of improved relations. I understood his reluctance to speak about this subject and decided to not push him and accepted his answer and his deflection of the topic.

After the Iran Air flight to Tehran, I checked into my hotel, the Ferdossi Grand, which was a decent three star place in the heart of Tehran. I arrived at midnight on a Thursday, which is like Saturday night anywhere else in the world as their weekends are different than ours. I asked what there was to do on the biggest night of the week and there was nothing to do. Alcohol is illegal in Iran, there are no bars, no places to socialize and I looked around the lobby and it was all Muslim men sitting around drinking water and coke-this did not look like much fun so I decided to go to sleep before my big tour of Tehran in the morning.

As I laid in bed trying to fall asleep, I flicked on the TV and there was nothing in English until I finally came to an English station. It was something called Press TV and it was an Iranian news channel, based in Tehran, in English. So I was fascinated and watched for an hour or so. All the stories were told from an Iranian perspective and generally were negative toward the US and Israel. The way the stories were told were very interesting and they usually ending up in some way blaming the US or Israel for something or another. However, they did seem to love Obama and his European tour.

The main topic up for discussion was about the current issue of Iran’s uranium enrichment and nuclear proliferation program and how the International community doesn’t want them to continue it but they insist they are doing it for peaceful reasons only. I don’t think that Iran should have access to nuclear weapons either but it was interesting to see how the stories were told from a pro-Iran angle. And you know what, perhaps some of their points were correct as well that the US should open talks directly with them and not demand conditions beforehand-it kind of makes sense in the spirit fairness and diplomacy.

Additionally, the lead in for the show (like most shows, they have a little video montage introduction before the newscast is shown) was interesting. The images they show in the twenty second intro were pictures of the World Trade Center burning and collapsing at least on four different occasions; Bush being shown with the word terrorist at least twice; US and Israel flags burning; and Israel at war with Hezbollah several times as well. I thought that was very strange but fascinating at the same time to see the propaganda machine at work in Iran.

Seeing Tehran the next day was interesting, the city of 17 million people was much nicer than I had imagined it to be. It was also much more modern and very clean. It reminded me of Baku, Azerbaijan which makes sense as Baku used to be a part of the Persian empire when Persia was once one of the largest countries on the world before the split. Tehran was also a very green city with many nice parks, great mountain backdrops and one of the best National Museums I have seen with many artifacts from ancient Persepolis. This made be feel better about not actually going there as all significant discoveries in Persepolis were on display in the museum.

However, as Tehran is a very nice city with wonderfully polite people, who were very nice to me: the main site I will take with me about Tehran is that all over the city are billboards and signs that say “Down with Israel” or “Down with USA”. These signs were in front of their Ministry of Foreign Affairs and in their main squares. Most notably, the old US Embassy which has been closed since the 1980 hostage crisis is still standing in a prominent area of the city and has signs all over it saying the US government is the most hated in the world, and we should all go to hell basically.

I found this fascinating-obviously grotesque as well, but fascinating nonetheless that they actually allowed this to go on in their capital city. Don’t the Iranians think this just makes them look awful to the International community when they have all this negative stuff in plain view all around the city-written in English and in Farsi. I found it shocking. When I asked Sia about the signs, he was very tepid and said something deflective like “they are just slogans-you know” and then he quickly changed the subject.

Anyway, I found Tehran and Iran in general to be a great case study in current events and in different points of view or at least skewed points of view. The images I take with me will be of the signs around town and the great kindness shown to me by everyone I met. The Iranian people are a very nice, polite and courteous group who will do anything for you. It is obvious to me that many of them do not agree with the direction the current regime is taking the country but there is optimism that relations with the world may soon improve. I really hope it does, Iran has a long and proud history and a real place in the world. The people are proud of their heritage and are very nationalistic.

By Lee Abbamonte

Meet Sufis and Dervishes!

Working my new Dervish connections ; ) I was able to attend a male Sufi-Dervish ceremony while in Kurdistan. The Sufis are a mystical side of Islam, which, in a nutshell, focus on Love and God as One. Several great poets were Sufis/Dervishes, and in general, there is more interest in this in the west as it is seemingly mystical and Love-based; something many of us find attractive and useful. Persia is the birthplace of Sufism though most people now associate it with the touristy whirling Dervishes seen at big shows in Turkey. The form of Sufiism in Iran is, I would say, distinct from this and much more “pure” not being at all touristy and in fact, pretty closed to outsiders. I was told that I should dress as man-like as possible since women are not normally allowed at these ceremonies as it can inhibit men from being able to reach ecstasy. When I first heard this I wondered: can they not reach ecstasy because us “lowly” women are around?, or can they not reach ecstasy because as women we are so tantalizing that no man could possibly focus on God in our presence? I realized the second reason is why (since in fact that is why we cover here- men cannot be responsible to focus or behave around our womanliness; ) so I and my female translator friend tried to look as boyish for the ceremony. Before we arrived, I imagined us huddled in the corner, heads lowered, prayer beads in hand- sort of looking like weary old men. When we arrived they welcomed us, told us they were waiting for us, and then we were quickly shown to the kitchen where we were offered a seat on the floor. All the men entered a different door to the ceremony hall after washing their feet, hands and faces. The door between the ceremony hall and the kitchen was propped open half way for us by our friend, the master of the ceremony, who was the star singer and daft (a sort of big drum) player of the evening. We would not be allowed to enter the room. First the men said prayers which were a lot of “Allah Allah Allah”’s of various speeds and variations; my favorite being one meaning “God is One.” While seated, men rocked back and forth rhythmically, which I assume lets them reach a trance-like state. Once in a while a random man would scream out in ecstasy (but sometimes sounding like they were in pain), sometimes standing up while screaming (in terror?), moving around the room. Our master of the ceremony friend asked if I was scared, but I let him know I had seen some stuff in India and evangelical churches in America so nothing shocks me anymore. In the kitchen a man was preparing huge vats of tea for all the men in the hall (about 100?) so it was pretty hot. It forced us to come to terms with the fact that that us dressing like boys was unnecessary, but worse: HOT. A few men could see us through the propped open door. Most looked curiously and then got over it. Maybe one or two gave us dirty looks; they were the minority. After the prayer the real action happened: About 20 daft drums were brought out and men limed the parameter of the hall. Our friend being the star drummer, who we then learned had an evil co-leader, who looked more like a computer programmer than any Allah-loving long haired Dervish man. He was young, short-haired, light skinned, western geeky looking. His facial expressions showed that he was obviously disgusted by our presence. He slammed shut the door which was propped open. Within 30 seconds it became that much hotter in the kitchen. What was worse was that then the most amazing sound of drums and chanting came from the hallway but we could no longer see it : ( Our friend came back to open the door- in the minute that the door was open I could see the evil computer programmer boy whirling around, beads of sweat on his forehead, head thrust up to the heavens, eyes shut; as if he had truly reached ecstasy. His eyes cracked open a hair as he turned; his eyes turned red as he caught a glimpse of th eopen door. He then stormed towards the kitchen, slamming the door shut while screaming what I can only imagine was “effing bitches” (j/k!). Our friend then came in asking me for my video camera- he then gave it to a little boy to film the ceremony for us, which was not normally allowed but I think it was their consolation prize to us. This bit of the ceremony went on for about 45 minutes. Even though we could not see it sounded and felt incredible! Towards the end our friend again burst the door open, like he was freeing us from prison- cooling down the kitchen (relatively speaking) and letting us to have a glimpse into one of the coolest things I have ever seen. Across form the daft players was about 15 men who had their hair down, some of their hair reaching their bum, others simply shoulder length. Rythmicaly, while chanting, they bent their head and torso forwards and then back up right like a 80s head-banger would. Another man ran around the room hopping and flailing his head every which way. We still could not see much, but later on the video that was taken for us, we saw everything which was extremely fascinating. I will do my best to download what I can here, because you just have to see it to understand it. Once they were done with that bit of the ceremony we were ushered out and back onto the street- I insisted on saying goodbye to our singer friend. He came out but now would not shake my hand. I assume he was too close to God at that point to color it by some handshake with a woman. So, just a simple Khodahafez (good-bye) & we were off… My translator friend & I both agreed it was one of the most fascinating experiences we have ever had.

By Michelle May

travel to Kurdistan

After spending a small amount of time in Kurdistan, I’m left with a few impressions of the region. Although I am by no means any sort of expert, I found the negative stereotypes I heard about Kurds while in Tehran to be anything but true. Iranians are extremely hospitable, and even by those standards Kurds managed to outperform. I could not believe that was even possible. Literally everywhere I went in Kurdistan I was invited into homes, offered meals, fresh water, taxi fares, and gifts, even when no English or Farsi was spoken. Even though I am the camera-toting tourist, I found that several times I was the one being filmed and photographed by the Kurds. They certainly were curious bout how I live and what the customs and laws in my country are. Funny that now that I am back in Tehran, my friends wonder how I escaped Kurdistan not being raped or killed. Instead I tell them that I spent about the equivalent of 20US$ for a week there due to all the generosity and care the Kurds offered me. Ontop of that it has been my favorite region in this country, which certainly says something. How can I ever reciprocate? I kept asking but they kept insisting that they derive great pleasure from taking care of others and “serving” -something I am not very used to or comfortable with, but I did my best in offering friendship and cultural exchange.

As far as socio-economics, I saw several beggars in Kurdistan, which was surprising since I had not many in other parts of Iran- Tehran, Tabriz, Shiraz, Esfahan, and Yazd. I was lead to believe that many of the beggars (many who are clad in black including the face covering below the eyes) are from Iraq. I often gave them money; I felt it was the least I could do seeing what a mess my country has made of theirs. As you know, like many I am against the war in Iraq, and would like to see the occupation end soon, however being in Kurdish country, I was exposed to the Kurdish take on ths situation. The Kurds I met highly appreciate and respect the Americans and their vision of autonomy for the Kurds. Again, they have been treated horribly throughout history but I am still trying to figure out why—not that there is ever any valid reason for such treatment. According to friends who are Iraqi, or have close ties there, Kurdish Iraq has now been likened to “heaven” by more than one Kurd I met here. Apparently, the occupiers have built hospitals, schools, etc- for the Kurds there and they are living in freedom that they never had before. In addition there is supposedly little military presence in that part of Iraq. When I was traveling to the Oruman valley on the border I wanted to go to the actual border- however it became apparent that this was too dangerous an affair. Close by there were dirt roads full of dilapidated cars with hundreds of jugs of gasoline waiting to be smuggled into Iraq. I guess gasoline in Iran is much cheaper here in Iran than there in Iraq. Many men risk their life in the heat walking through the mountains over the border with jugs upon jug on their heads, back, etc just to try to make a living because there is little other way to make much money in the region (from what I heard the government has not invested much any factories or industries in the Kurdish part of Iran). Men usually put blocks of ice ontop of their heads and in their shoes before making the journey with all of this illegal gasoline since it is so hot- when it was there it was well over 100 degrees! One of my friends said it best: “they will pay their life just to have the chance to try to make a living for their families.” True. A different friend told a story of crossing the border when another car was going over the border with illegal gasoline smuggled in the car. Reportedly, police shot at this car and of course, it exploded; all lives in the car were lost. Again, I am getting this information from various random people I met, so do not quote me on any of this.

Before coming to this region I raved about Iranian roads. They are still pretty good here, but it was interesting to see that there are no paved roads in many parts of Kurdistan, including the road to the Oruman valley, which has large potential to draw tourism and therefore money to the region. Iran’s largest fresh water lake is also in this border region, but few tourists go there compared to other parts of Iran. Also, this region suffered greatly during the Iran-Iraq; just as I saw in Vietnam (on a smaller scale here though) there were a few people walking around with deformities from the chemical warfare that took place. Many buildings lay in ruins, with no apparent reconstruction plans in sight, and reportedly there are still many many landmines in this area which are still active.  I was told some of the gasoline smuggler have lost life and limb this way as well.

Although I loved Kurdistan I did notice that it was more “traditional” than other parts I have been to in Iran. By traditional I mean there are fewer women around during the day- meaning that they are at home cooking, cleaning and caring for their children. I do not want to impose my western values on this but for me, it seems pretty limiting that so may live that way. I am sure some really do love doting on others, but how can all? At times it made me uncomfortable how women would be incessantly attending to my, their children’s, and husband’s needs but never sit down at eat with us because they were too busy cleaning. Sad. This exists in many parts of the world, but I guess it stood out because it was more dominant in Kurdistan than other places I have been here- although it definitely still exists, big-time. One woman I spoke to expressed that she too sees this in her culture, and she cannot wait to move to Tehran. She said she will resist getting married because she does not want the sort of house mom life, which she sees as unavoidable if she gets married. We both separately likened it to a sort of prison. The good side of the traditional bent, is that I saw fewer black chadors in Kurdistan, and instead more traditional color and relaxed hejab fashion (and not in a tacky Northern Tehran sort of a way- just a more natural sort of way).

By Michelle May