April 20, 2005

Reflections of Iran

Iranian mosque's are striking due to their intricate Persian tile design. Yadz, Iran

It is 2:15 pm local time. The sun is beating down mercilessly. Must be close to 30 degrees C. The light is so bright, almost blinding. I took refuge in the shade of an Internet cafe to the side of the main Mosque. I will explore the Old City in the coolness of late afternoon...

After eight days being here in Iran, I am beginning to think back and reflect upon the many facets of Iranian life. It is a fascinating place. I am constantly challenged here. It is one of the rare countries where I have already decided that I would like to return... to explore in more depth, the next time off the beaten track.

There is no doubt that all aspects of everyday life are dictated by religion here. Most Iranians are Shiite Muslims. They pray three times

a day, do a "hadj" (pilgrimage) to Mecca at least once in their lives, give to the poor and strive toward having "clean" speech and a "clean" heart.
Hossein in Tehran was explaining to me that many of the precepts in vigor here do not come from the Koran but from the writings of the Ayatollah.
Ayatollah Khomeini founded the first modern Islamic republic.

His analysis is that the Shah tried too much to westernize Iran forgetting that Persians are very close to their traditional roots. Also the Shah and his family lived in such a lavish way that it angered the desperately poor masses. After the Revolution, the pendulum swang to the other extreme and the Islamic state was established with a great many limitations, especially for women.

There have been some minor victories, though, since the election of president Khatami. The legal age for a girl to marry is no longer 9 but 13, women can now study abroad and people do not live in fear of the Islamic police.

Shah Reza Pahlavi ruled Iran until 1979. The Shah used his oil wealth to modernize his nation.

Many women wear the chador; some younger ones however are more daring in their attire with tight fitted longish tunics, discreet make up and a scarf that shows much of their hairline. They can go shopping or to the park alone while before they had to be accompanied by a brother or other male relative. You see groups of youngsters, boys and girls, at street corners chatting animatedly. I can't help feeling sorry for them because they really have nowhere to go, apart from tea houses. They can't go dancing, they can't sing, they can't flirt openly or receive people of the opposite sex in their homes. Neighbours would talk and that could cause trouble.

Girl showing her hair to the astonishment of onlookers.

Women often ask me how I feel about having to be dressed the Islamic way. I usually answer that it is somewhat uncomfortable as I am not used to the heat. When I ask them the same question, their answer is that a piece of cloth is not going to alienate their freedom! Iranian women strike me as being strong willed. They frequently give the impression that they "wear the pants" in the home.

There is apparently a big drug problem among the younger population. The drugs, mainly hashish comes from Afganistan. There are increasing cases of run-away teenagers, especially girls. The rate of unemployment is high despite the fact that Iran is rich in oil and minerals. Eshan, the Esfahan student who invited me to his home told me that the government deliberately does not try to contain the drug problem to control people better. He is himself complaining of the fact that nothing is done to open research and study in the universities and that at the PhD level. The professors are "ignorant". He even said that some Iranians secretly wish for an American invasion like in Iraq to change the regime... I do not know if his views are representative of those of the general population but in no way, does he strike me as a militant activist.

I have heard many complaints about the economic situation and that the government does not do enough especially for the young people. After all one third of the population here is under 15. I try to steer clear of discussing politics and religion but Iranians often insist on tackling the subject. I usually listen, ask questions and offer no judgements. They also often ask me my religion. I simply say Christian. Being atheist, agnostic or even worse Jewish would not be well viewed. There is an intense anti-zionist feeling here as was attested by comics I saw on TV. Ariel Sharon was portrayed like an obese dummy the Palestinians were making fun of and George Bush was an arrogant cowboy, just as dumb, that the Israeli were calling on the telephone to the rescue.

It is also said that here despite the taboos, it is possible to buy liquor and that the renting of wives for a limited time period is nothing but a form of prostitution sanctified by the Mollahs.

April 22, 2005

My visit to Yadz and some desert villages

I have been in Yadz, a city on the fringe of the desert for 4 days now. Can't help lingering here. I feel so much at home despite the heat. There is a sense of oriental magic here. Everything enchants me: the old city, the wind towers, the bazaars, the mud bricks houses, the fountains and pools. The people are particularly delightful from the taxi driver who treats me to an ice cream in appreciation for the small tip I just gave him to the fruit vendor who greets me in the streets and inquires about my well being because he remembers that I bought some oranges from him a couple of days ago.

A view over the city of Yazd. The word Yazd means, feast and worship.

I spent most of my first day wandering through the maze of the old city. A real labyrinth. You go past mud bricks dwellings with tiny windows and old wooden doors. The doors has two knockers, one for the men and one for the women. Each makes a different sound so that you can be forewarned of the gender of your visitor!

The old city is so silent and so deserted that it is hard to imagine that people live behind those thick, sand coloured walls. It is like going back in time, to the time of vizirs, flying carpets and magic lamps. You walk past arches, narrow passages; sometimes you come across a small shop with the merchant dozing off in the doorway or a tiny courtyard shaded by citrus trees or by the silvery foliage of an olive grove.

Homes in Yazd have door knockers which are unique in the world.
Male callers use the intentionally phallic-looking one on the left, and women use the one on the right.

I would have got lost several times had children not kindly pointed the right way, shouting "Madame Tourist, Madame Tourist!" before returning to their games. In my wanderings, I was unable to find several points of interest but no matter I enjoyed my walk immensely.

I felt deeply rewarded when I reached the "Hosseinnieh". From the top of the promontary, a wonderful sight was waiting for me. It was sunset; the sun- dried mud city, the badgirs (wind towers) all the yellows, browns and beiges turning a deep gold and then a soft pink. The delicate outline of the minarets of the blue Jameh Mosque taking a luminous purple colour, the perfect disk of the moon rising in the sky with the call to evening prayer so full of melancoly beauty.

Badgirs (Farsi) or barjeels (Arabic) are windcatchers that work as low-tech air conditioners.
The city of Yazd is probably best known for them.
Badgirs are built so that they can be opened to catch the wind from different directions, the air is then cooled as it travels down the tower, and in turn cools the rooms below.

Yadz is the city of badgirs and quanats. Imagine, the temperature can reach 45 degrees in the summer. So people since ancient times had to find way to cool off.

When you look at Yadz from up high you see a sea of sun baked roofs studded by turrets of the same pale brown colour. These towers are constructed in such a way that they provide natural air conditioning. The openings capture the wind and redirect it down below.

Quanats are also unique constructions of this part of the world. They have been constructed for at least two thousand years. There are underground channels used to supply drinking water and of course to irrigate fields.

Walking around this city late at night is one of my favourite pastimes. The air is then soft, fragrant and much cooler. All the shops are opened, brighly illuminated and colorful. Everybody is out enjoying the respite from the ruthless heat. Families enjoying an ice cream, groups of young girls window shopping, young men looking at the girls still feminine and pretty despite their chadors.

Nuts and pastries are being sold. Kebab and fresh vegetable roasted, bread baked.
I feel really safe here, safer than in many other countries. Filming street scenes is no problem; locals smile at me and ask, "What country?"
Kabab and bread

Part of the Water System...
The quanat system consists of underground channels that convey water from aquifers in highlands to the surface at lower levels by gravity.

Then after my response, they always add, "Welcome to Iran". I also feel very protected: never an ambiguous look, remark or an improper gesture from anybody. People rarely get angry at least in public (except when there is a car accident!). They always demonstrate much warmth and extreme politeness. As a foreign woman traveller, I seem to enjoy a privileged status. I can converse freely with Persian women and at the same time I can interact with local men. Sometimes I'll be admitted as an honorary male to places where local females do not go... for instance, traditional gymnastics demonstrations.

Otherwise, segregation is total: in mosques, schools, restaurants, buses, swimming pools, sports arenas or on the beach. Women can't ride bycicles, or be on the back of a motorbike unless their husband is the driver! Iran is a country where you get to meet many locals. They often want to invite you and it is always a rewarding experience that gives you a liitle more of an insight into their life style. Unfortunately, there are some invitations I had to pass because of schedule constraints. One in particular from a female school principal who wanted me to spend a day in her school and another from a tour guide who invited me to his grandfather's birthday in a rural community. There was to be a great gathering of the whole family.

I befriended two wonderful people in Yadz. Mitra, the Zoroastrian girl and Ali, the Muslim boy. They are friends from University. Mitra is 28, married to a man 10 years her senior. She works as an hotel receptionist and tour guide. Ali is still studying and also works in tourism. They make a great team and we all three got along beautifully.

One day they took me in Ali's battered car to visit the neighbouring desert villages. Ali's engine had to be regularly supplied with water as it could not bear the desert heat and we shared only one handle to wind up and down all four windows according to the current road condition: suffocating heat or clouds of dust! We drove along some badly potholed dirt tracks. Mitra had prepared a picnic and kept passing us sweets, sandwiches, pastries. We explored the marvelous village of Khoranagh, for me the highlight of the trip! We wandered through the mudbrick city, more than one thousand years old, saw the ancient mosque with its shaking minaret and a beautifully restored caravanserai.

The place was so magic that it was easy to visualize life during the silk trade, when the caravans stopped for water, food and shelter. You can still see where the camels and horses were being tied and where the merchants slept.

We also took a pleasant walk through the countryside. Went across peaceful fields with sheep tended by solitary shepherds, with the gentle babble of a brook in the background until we reached an ancient acquaduc. We sat there a long time savouring a panoramic view of the village.

In another place called Chak Chak (which is the name of the noise made by dripping water) we climbed up to a famous Zoroastrian temple perched on a cliff. I nearly died of heat and exhaustion while my companions looked fresh and rested! The caretaker opened the brassed door gorgeouly embossed with the portrait of the prophet Zoroaster. Inside It felt like heaven. The temple was a cave splendidly cool and humid, full of chaks chaks (drips, drips!). In the middle some metal as pots full of burning embers with aromatic fumes. Againt the cliff three oil lamps constantly burning. According to Zoroastrian beliefs, fire should never die out. Incidentally in Yadz there is a temple with a fire that has been burning since 470 AD.

Zoroatrianism is an interesting religion, the original religion of Iran before Islam and apparently the oldest monotheist religion. The four elements water, air, soil and fire are of utmost importance. It is crucial not to contaminate the natural environment in any shape or form. That is why bodies are neither buried nor cremated in order not to pollute the air or earth. People used to put corpses on top of towers so that the vultures would take care of them. Nowadays, dead Zoroastrians are buried in coffins of concrete to prevent contamination of the soil.

Zoroastrians believe in duality, namely in the existence of good and bad. Their emblem is a winged figure with three layers representing pure thought, pure action and pure speech. In Iran, they live side by side with the Muslims and women have of course to repect a strict dress code even if it is not part of their religion.

For lunch with Ali and Mitra, we stopped in a little restaurant, where the cook prepared delicious brochettes of camel meat served with broiled onions and tomatoes (all organic of course). We were also served this unbelievingly tasty bread (the one large as an elephant ear!) freshly baked from a roaring oven. A treat.

We ended this memorable day visiting the Towers of Silence where the Zoroastrians left their corpses to the vultures in the old days. There are two of them, one for men and one for women. Tall, solitary and a little awe inspiring even in the setting sun.

It's time to leave this wonderful place and push on. Tomorrow am heading to Shiraz and Ancient Persepolis before going north again... Click to continue the journey...