"Good job!"
At 3am, H2 was awakened with an urgent message from a close friend.
"Bebaxshid! Sorry to disturb you, I'm sure you were sleeping, but I have something important to tell you:"
"Nuclear power is clearly our right!"
H2 laughs for half an hour.
*
Love is in the air. Iranians enjoy Valentine's Day. Couples read poetry to each other in Eram Garden. They share tea and hubble bubble at the chaikuneh near the Tomb of Hafez. Four couples sit next to us at restaurant on their special evening out. Finding out I'm American, they ask if they can have their picture taken with me.
Iranians call the restaurant "The Bathroom". Its a 350 year old hammam featuring some of the finest food in Shiraz. Its my first taste of dizi, a stew-like meal with its own consumption process - pour off the broth, mash up the chicken, beans and chick peas and eat with bread. Its delicious and leaden.
A woman on the street stops me and says "I love you! Are you single?"
Back at the Hafez chaikuneh, our server is quite the cutup, "Which part of London are you living in? The United States?" He tells us bad jokes and demands that I guess his salary.
Across from us, a young architect finds out I'm American and shows me the Metallica logo he keeps on his cell phone. I'm surprised to find out he's never heard of Judas Priest. He sticks his index finger and pinky in the air. "Nothing Else Matters!"
*
Burly Man steps into the small hotel elevator with us and looks at me.
"German?" - a common guess, along with French, since most Iranians don't expect to see visitors from my country.
>"Amrika."
His eyes light up and he shakes my hand. "Good job! Finally America comes to Iran."
"Bebaxshid! Sorry to disturb you, I'm sure you were sleeping, but I have something important to tell you:"
"Nuclear power is clearly our right!"
H2 laughs for half an hour.
*
Love is in the air. Iranians enjoy Valentine's Day. Couples read poetry to each other in Eram Garden. They share tea and hubble bubble at the chaikuneh near the Tomb of Hafez. Four couples sit next to us at restaurant on their special evening out. Finding out I'm American, they ask if they can have their picture taken with me.
Iranians call the restaurant "The Bathroom". Its a 350 year old hammam featuring some of the finest food in Shiraz. Its my first taste of dizi, a stew-like meal with its own consumption process - pour off the broth, mash up the chicken, beans and chick peas and eat with bread. Its delicious and leaden.
A woman on the street stops me and says "I love you! Are you single?"
Back at the Hafez chaikuneh, our server is quite the cutup, "Which part of London are you living in? The United States?" He tells us bad jokes and demands that I guess his salary.
Across from us, a young architect finds out I'm American and shows me the Metallica logo he keeps on his cell phone. I'm surprised to find out he's never heard of Judas Priest. He sticks his index finger and pinky in the air. "Nothing Else Matters!"
*
Burly Man steps into the small hotel elevator with us and looks at me.
"German?" - a common guess, along with French, since most Iranians don't expect to see visitors from my country.
>"Amrika."
His eyes light up and he shakes my hand. "Good job! Finally America comes to Iran."
posted by s. at 5:56 AM
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