Two Christian pastors have returned to Martinsville after a year and a half of study in Iran, where they set out to learn and build trust and love between the people of both nations.

Husband and wife David Wolfe and Linda Kusse-Wolfe, both Quaker ministers, studied Islam and Iranian culture at the Imam Khomeini Education and Research Institute in Qom, Iran, from January 2007 to May 2008.

There, they found a “very hospitable, very gracious people” and made lasting friendships, Kusse-Wolfe said.

“It was a really privileged look at a society many Americans don’t get to see,” she said.

The trip was an exchange program through the Mennonite Central Committee designed to deepen religious and cultural understanding between the East and West.

“We’ve had deep interest in reconciliation work, so when this opportunity opened up, we leaped at the chance,” Kusse-Wolfe said.

Though they are Quakers, not Mennonites, the exchange program is “open to Christians active in their church and committed to pacifism,” she added.

Kusse-Wolfe said they embarked on the trip expecting to “make good friends, do a little traveling and know what it’s like to live in a Muslim republic.”

Wolfe said they also wanted to “get a feel for all the questions we as North Americans ask about Islam. How do people live out what they believe? What does the Quran really say about different things?”

Perhaps the ultimate question is, “How do you live in a world with each other when you have significantly different histories and tradition?” Wolfe said.

“You have to do it. You have to be sociable and respectful and figure out how to get along,” he added. “Even if some of our beliefs are different, we have to find ways to respect and love each other.”

During the exchange, the couple took classes in English about the Quran, Islamic mysticism, Iranian culture and the Farsi language. But the learning didn’t end in the classroom — both were struck by the warmth and hospitality of the Iranians they met.

Before the trip, “we had people ask us, ‘Aren’t you scared to go over there?’” Kusse-Wolfe said. “I’m convinced the (Iranian) people would’ve laid down their lives for us.”

“We never heard an unkind word,” Wolfe said.

The city of Qom has a “significant number” of English-speaking people, Kusse-Wolfe said, especially among university students.

“They would almost immediately invite us home to meet their parents and share a meal,” she said. “There’s a saying in Iran that guests are friends of God. They really understand that.”

Iran is “very diverse,” with communities of Christians, Jewish people and Zoroastrians, Wolfe said.

Every other week, the couple took a train to the city of Tehran for an Armenian Christian church service. The service was in Armenian, but “someone sitting behind us would make notes in English and pop them over back of the pew to us so we could know what was going on,” Kusse-Wolfe said. “It was very kind.”

On the train ride, she added, people often would get up and offer her a seat.

While in Iran, Kusse-Wolfe had to cover her hair and wear a long cloak. The traditional women’s garment is called a chador.

“There’s still a traditional culture where women are the boss of the home and men are the boss of the public domain,” Wolfe said.

The woman’s role in Iran is “very complex,” Kusse-Wolfe said, and they are proud to have much more freedom than their counterparts in Saudi Arabia.

“Under the chador, many women have master’s degrees and Ph.D.’s. We knew female professors and business people,” Kusse-Wolfe said.

Visas between the United States and Iran are “extremely difficult to get,” Wolfe said. “We read that only about 300 American visas were accepted last year in Iran. There’s kind of a tit for tat between the countries.”

The couple had to apply for entrance and exit visas. After their experiences, Kusse-Wolfe said, “We’re encouraged now and want to support really aggressive diplomacy.”

For those who cannot travel to Iran in person, the couple put together a PowerPoint presentation from the trip. They spent five weeks in Kansas and Arkansas sharing what they learned with churches and civic groups.

Now, they hope to make presentations locally and give people a better idea of what life in Iran is really like.

“We don’t have positive media images of everyday people in Iran, and most of them are just marvelous human beings,” Kusse-Wolfe said.

Just as many Americans have misperceptions about Iranian people, television has given rise to many stereotypes about Americans.

In Iran, “satellite dishes are illegal, but a lot of people have them,” Wolfe said, which gives them access to American shows. “Think what your perception of Americans would be if your only knowledge came from movies and sitcoms.”

Some people were surprised to find out that the couple — and other Americans — believe in God, Kusse-Wolfe said. But by living their faith, they proved the stereotypes wrong.

“As we practiced our faith and shared with them, that opened a lot of doors. It meant we had integrity,” she said.

Muslims consider Jesus an important prophet, and the people they encountered showed a great respect for the couple’s faith, she added.

Muslims consider Christians and Jews to be “people of the book,” Wolfe said. “They believe that we all worship the God of Abraham, and they are all protected and have a place in Iran.”

“Islam is a great monotheistic faith, very moral and ethical, with a deep sense of community and respect,” Kusse-Wolfe said. “What impressed me was their deep practice of their faith in God.”

Explaining Christian beliefs to their Muslim hosts was educational for the couple, as well.

“We’ve learned from having to explain what we believe,” Wolfe said.

Kusse-Wolfe added, “My personal faith is certainly deeper, more joyful, more trusting now.”

Before the trip, Wolfe was the chaplain at Memorial Hospital in Martinsville, and Kusse-Wolfe ministered at First United Methodist Church.

“We’re significantly different people from having done this,” Wolfe said. “So what does this mean for our ministry? We don’t know yet.”

They do know, however, that encouraging peace and understanding begins at home.

“We could start by loving our Muslim brothers and sisters in our own towns. That would be a huge step forward for peace and friendship,” Kusse-Wolfe said. “Even if we disagree, we simply have to advocate for each other to live in peace.”

By KIM BARTO

Visit Eram Garden in Shiraz!

I take a walk just before daybreak, in the quiet before traffic has swelled to the point of making the streets almost impassable (you have to walk with faith, my friend, into oncoming cars, and hope they will have enough humanity to break for you.  Not always, I’m afraid…).  The Citadel of my ancestor and ruler of the Zand Dynasty, Karim Khan Zand, is as silent as Shiraz at night, after the street has emptied and storefronts closed down.  It is imposing and grand, with one leaning tower that even experts from Pisa could not straighten; a plaza just outside that leads to the bazaar, also build by Karim Khan, will soon be populated by merchants selling everything from paperback books to nomadic jewelry to freshly roasted pistachios.  It all exists just at the end of Zand boulevard.  So if you haven’t gotten the idea yet, this is Zand heaven.  Shiraz is to Zand as Graceland is to…okay, I’ll stop.

I wandered across to the Pars museum.  Have I mentioned this is the cultural phase of the trip?  We are now on to experience the relics of the past, see the old debris left by centuries of conquest, defeat, conquest, defeat.  Persepolis, baby.  Persepolis.  Xerxes. Cyrus.  Darius. This is the cradle of civilization.  Not to mention castle remains strewn across the countryside.  It is a rich history.

So, the Pars museum…ah, back to the Zands (mid to late 18th century–the Zand Dynasty was so short-lived it often doesn’t even warrant mentioning in books that cover this period of Persian history.  But Iranians are well aware of it, and the leadership of Karim Khan is still legendary here–a mighty but generous ruler who never took the title of shah, but instead kept regent, so as to better identify with the people.)  His remains are now across the street at the Pars Museum, along with his sword and a few other Zand artifacts.  A sign hung at the entrance, absolutely no photographs. Of course, they didn’t have postcards to purchase either. I met the director, Mohammad Reza, whose English isn’t much more than my Farsi, so we communicated in gestures and expressions, words from my dictionary chosen to represent whole ideas. (Leila, I wish you were there!) I pulled out my driver’s license to show I am a Zand. With that, he sat me down for tea. Mohammad Reza, it turns out, is something of a Zand expert, having studied them for some years now. Currently, he’s writing a book on the Zands (in Persian, of course) based on his research. He mentioned John Perry, a Zand scholar from the University of Chicago. By the time we were done, he agreed to let me take any photos I wanted.

I skipped Persepolis this trip, having visited before.  Instead, I was content to spend time just wandering.  I walked the nearby bazaar, built also by Karim Khan, and found a gabbeh rug for Ellen, made by one of the two nomadic tribes in this region. Part of the bazaar opens into a square, with shops all around. My brother Steve told me that one of the shop owners would be sure to recognize me, as he had Steve on his last visit. Sure enough, I heard someone call, “Mr. Zand, Mr. Zand!” Amazing memory, as it’s been over 3 1/2 years. I was accompanied by David and Dan, and we all ended up making purchases from his store, so no doubt he’ll remember me next time as well.

Shiraz has a much different feel than the urban squeeze of Tehran with its traffic and toxicity. At the airport I’m greeted by tall palms and warm desert air—I could be arriving in Tucson. An Iranian man tells me the women in Shiraz are the prettiest with their wine-colored lips and dark, almond eyes, and my Shiraz friends claim hipness over the competing Esfahaners. There is something about Shiraz that makes me feel like I’m breathing again walking boulvarde Zand, the air fragrant with roasted pistachios and kabobis. After all, it’s the city of wine and poetry, the resting places of Hafez and Sa’di, and their spirits move here as well, still revered by nightly visitors. At Hafez’s tomb, young people crowd beneath the canopy.  They recite from heart the sufi master’s work, many holding sparklers or candles, some draping themselves over the marble slab like bohemians at Jim Morrison’s grave. Poets are the rock stars of Shiraz. More so, because they are remembered all these hundreds of years later, continuing to inspire.  It seems about any Iranian can tell you, regardless of level of education or socio-economic background, about Hafez, Sa’di and Rumi, about  Ferdowsi’s classic epic Shahnameh, the book of kings.   Poetry is the perfume that scents this culture, permeating every level.  Maybe it’s helped that there’s never much on TV, and they’re not bombarded by commercial images.  The advertisements here, given the limitations of the female wardrobe, don’t use sex to sell things.  You don’t see billboards with “lifestyle” images.  At most, you might see a photo of a microwave incubating a half-roasted chicken.  It’s a nation devoid of saturation marketing, and perhaps that has helped preserve  these older  elements of society, as they are still relevant as common cultural references and a living part of a national dialog that crosses class lines.  And I can’t help but reflect on our own cultural conversation that is overwhelmed by celebrity gossip and ephemeral icons that inevitably fall victim to American caprice as they grow fat, or their hits fade bleakly from the top 40.  Our rock stars are sadly, only rock stars.

By Rick Zand