Do you want to hear a story?
H2 greets me in the morning. "CNN has said this morning," pausing just long enough for me to consider any number of scenarios involving offensive cartoons or uranium enrichment, "that there will be good weather throughout the entire country."
Of course, there is serious news today: Iranian broadcasts have said that Persepolis FC will be fined $2000 for the unruly behavior of its fans that I witnessed the other day. Additionally, the partisans will not be allowed to attend the next two matches, meaning the team will play their following home games in an empty stadium.
*
Its true. What they say. About the people.
H2 and I board a common city bus to take us to our first destination. Two women in full hejab sit across from us, exchanging glances and whispers. COST: No charge. As H2 tries to pay, he finds that the driver will only accept tickets. H2 negotiates with a rider who possesses them, who smiles and nods but will not accept our money.
We visit the archealogical site of Sialk, dating anywhere from 6-8000 years ago. Its basically a large mound with some skeletons, also bits of ancient pottery lying on the ground; they don't mind if you pick them up and examine them, as long as you don't take them home. COST: No charge. Its the low season and the old men who have worked there for 30 years don't feel like dealing with tickets.
We head back to the main road to find a ride. We pass by a young man with a pickup who offers to take us to our next stop - another of the traditional Qajari houses. He asks H2 about my nationality. After H2 answers, the driver says "best wishes to him and all Americans." He asks H2 to ask me if I've ever been so squeezed into a vehicle in the States. "Yes, on the farm", I reply and he has a good laugh. He asks if we want to hear a story. (That's why I'm here!) He knew of an old woman who had an old cow. This cow would not give milk to anyone but the woman. When the woman died, the cow never gave milk again. He drops us off at Abbassian House. COST: No charge. Just another nice guy in Iran.
We enter the Abbassian House. H2 goes to buy the tickets (actually ticket, since H2, as a licensed guide, doesn't have to pay to enter any site in Iran). COST: No charge. He asks H2 if I'm a foreigner, H2 replies in the affirmative, and the man says, "Be my guest."
There are about 4 or 5 of these houses, similar to the one we saw last night - at no charge after hours with a guided tour. They're similar in style: symmetrical, fountains, stained glass, mirrors, gardens, age-old indoor plumbing, supreme engineering. We visit two others and along the way run into an Italian who is making his second trip to Iran.
Kashan is a city of about 200,000. There are few tall buildings. Under the portection of the mountain range, the city sprawls out as it would after 8000 years, built along a fault line. There's a mosque in Kashan coupled with a madreseh (school). Its known for training basijis - a religiously conservative group which claims the new Iranian president as a member. I mention to H2 that they really hate Americans. He laughs and says, "Yeah, they really do."
A man with his four year old son sitting in front of him are riding their motorcycle down the street. That wouldn't be so surprising, except that they're doing it straight into oncoming traffic. No one blinks an eye. I'd venture that better than 5% of Iranians drive at night without headlights. I'm not kidding.
We're having some trouble getting a ride back to the hotel. At last an older gentleman picks us up and takes a short way. COST: No charge. He tells H2 he's not even a cabbie, he just likes Americans. He says he refuses to watch Iranian news, only CNN.
*
H2 has had the same girlfriend for over a year. He keeps a picture of her in his cellphone, she's quite beautiful. He describes her as perfect in every way - except one. "I am the horse and she is the rider." He loves her a great deal but cannot bear her controlling ways. She hates his job.
*
I've been debating as to whether I should post about the next stop in our itinerary, a town supported by UNESCO that I've wanted to go out of the way to see for a long time. I'll go ahead and tell you that its a small village in the mountains called Abyeneh. That's not really a big deal, but any intelligence operative with half a brain knows that means we passed Natanz along the way. Google "Natanz", famous for one thing in particular. For the record, I didn't see anything but very pretty mountains.
We've negotiated only an hour-long visit with our driver. Many of the homes are built on top of one another against the side of the mountain. We meet an old woman who takes us into her home and shows us pictures of her grandchildren, all of whom live far away. With tears in her eyes, she tells us she really misses her husband who passed away some time ago. She's all alone now.
Like so many small towns around the world, Abyeneh cannot hold its young people when they reach adulthood. Its population is small and elderly. Some of the old folks fear that when they die, the town will be deserted.
*
We get back on the main road to tonight's destination.
H2 says to me in the car, "I can tell you're excited."
>"Yes, I am. You know, 99% of Americans have never heard of Esfahan."
With furrowed brow H2 exclaims, "You're kidding."
>"No, I'm not. And the 1% that has are Persian."
"Ah! I have to tell this to the driver."
Of course, there is serious news today: Iranian broadcasts have said that Persepolis FC will be fined $2000 for the unruly behavior of its fans that I witnessed the other day. Additionally, the partisans will not be allowed to attend the next two matches, meaning the team will play their following home games in an empty stadium.
*
Its true. What they say. About the people.
H2 and I board a common city bus to take us to our first destination. Two women in full hejab sit across from us, exchanging glances and whispers. COST: No charge. As H2 tries to pay, he finds that the driver will only accept tickets. H2 negotiates with a rider who possesses them, who smiles and nods but will not accept our money.
We visit the archealogical site of Sialk, dating anywhere from 6-8000 years ago. Its basically a large mound with some skeletons, also bits of ancient pottery lying on the ground; they don't mind if you pick them up and examine them, as long as you don't take them home. COST: No charge. Its the low season and the old men who have worked there for 30 years don't feel like dealing with tickets.
We head back to the main road to find a ride. We pass by a young man with a pickup who offers to take us to our next stop - another of the traditional Qajari houses. He asks H2 about my nationality. After H2 answers, the driver says "best wishes to him and all Americans." He asks H2 to ask me if I've ever been so squeezed into a vehicle in the States. "Yes, on the farm", I reply and he has a good laugh. He asks if we want to hear a story. (That's why I'm here!) He knew of an old woman who had an old cow. This cow would not give milk to anyone but the woman. When the woman died, the cow never gave milk again. He drops us off at Abbassian House. COST: No charge. Just another nice guy in Iran.
We enter the Abbassian House. H2 goes to buy the tickets (actually ticket, since H2, as a licensed guide, doesn't have to pay to enter any site in Iran). COST: No charge. He asks H2 if I'm a foreigner, H2 replies in the affirmative, and the man says, "Be my guest."
There are about 4 or 5 of these houses, similar to the one we saw last night - at no charge after hours with a guided tour. They're similar in style: symmetrical, fountains, stained glass, mirrors, gardens, age-old indoor plumbing, supreme engineering. We visit two others and along the way run into an Italian who is making his second trip to Iran.
Kashan is a city of about 200,000. There are few tall buildings. Under the portection of the mountain range, the city sprawls out as it would after 8000 years, built along a fault line. There's a mosque in Kashan coupled with a madreseh (school). Its known for training basijis - a religiously conservative group which claims the new Iranian president as a member. I mention to H2 that they really hate Americans. He laughs and says, "Yeah, they really do."
A man with his four year old son sitting in front of him are riding their motorcycle down the street. That wouldn't be so surprising, except that they're doing it straight into oncoming traffic. No one blinks an eye. I'd venture that better than 5% of Iranians drive at night without headlights. I'm not kidding.
We're having some trouble getting a ride back to the hotel. At last an older gentleman picks us up and takes a short way. COST: No charge. He tells H2 he's not even a cabbie, he just likes Americans. He says he refuses to watch Iranian news, only CNN.
*
H2 has had the same girlfriend for over a year. He keeps a picture of her in his cellphone, she's quite beautiful. He describes her as perfect in every way - except one. "I am the horse and she is the rider." He loves her a great deal but cannot bear her controlling ways. She hates his job.
*
I've been debating as to whether I should post about the next stop in our itinerary, a town supported by UNESCO that I've wanted to go out of the way to see for a long time. I'll go ahead and tell you that its a small village in the mountains called Abyeneh. That's not really a big deal, but any intelligence operative with half a brain knows that means we passed Natanz along the way. Google "Natanz", famous for one thing in particular. For the record, I didn't see anything but very pretty mountains.
We've negotiated only an hour-long visit with our driver. Many of the homes are built on top of one another against the side of the mountain. We meet an old woman who takes us into her home and shows us pictures of her grandchildren, all of whom live far away. With tears in her eyes, she tells us she really misses her husband who passed away some time ago. She's all alone now.
Like so many small towns around the world, Abyeneh cannot hold its young people when they reach adulthood. Its population is small and elderly. Some of the old folks fear that when they die, the town will be deserted.
*
We get back on the main road to tonight's destination.
H2 says to me in the car, "I can tell you're excited."
>"Yes, I am. You know, 99% of Americans have never heard of Esfahan."
With furrowed brow H2 exclaims, "You're kidding."
>"No, I'm not. And the 1% that has are Persian."
"Ah! I have to tell this to the driver."
posted by s. at 9:55 AM
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