Fast times in Iran

Woke with the typical dry throat after sleeping in a hot climate.  Picked up my water bottle but realised I couldn’t drink a drop until 810pm – a very unpleasant realisation. This fast is a ridiculous idea - especially in the middle of an Iranian summer

I thought a refreshing shower might help out the situation but alas the Isfahan water shortage measures had kicked in which means rolling water outages around the city.  Iran, like much of the world, is short of water.  In New Zealand we lucky to have only the occassional sprinkler restriction in suburban Waikanae. 

After watching Dodd devour his breakfast we headed into town on the bus. One thing I have not talked about is the apartheid-like restrictions on woman in society.  This extends to the buses with woman sitting at the back – very awkward when a husband and wife travel together. 

An example of the divide is the separate praying rooms at all airports and bus stations. 

We obviously caught the wrong bus and ended up in an unfamiliar area of town.  We asked for directions and ended up meeting Ashkan – Iranian 3000m steeplechase champion! The conversation predictably turned to sport and he mentioned two interesting things.  Firstly that professional athletes do not have to fast for Ramadan which shows the Quaran can be interpreted to fit ones needs. Secondly that male athletes can wear shorts when competing despite having to wear pants day to day. Women on the other hand, compete in full robe with no skin showin apart from their face.  Very inconsistent.

Ashkanand I taking a stroll down Chahar Bagh street

On the way we passed florescent coloured ducklings.  The seller dyes the ducks to encourage kids to buys them but the colour washes off within two weeks...

As quickly as Hussain disappeared on his bike, another character turned up. Very memorable because his name is pronounced ‘woman’.   Hooman had some very interesting insights into Iranian life, especially the political situation. We first talked about the water-fight arrests in Tehran.  The arrests were because boys and girls were playing together rather than because it was a water fight. Children are separated at an early age and Hussain remarked that separating the sexes is the reason for low moral standards in Iran.

Next he talked about Ramadan.  Girls are considered ‘woman’ at just 9 years old.  Conversely boys become ‘men’ at 15. Another consistent facet of Iranian culture/law.  Thank goodness Helen Kelley (president of NZ Council of Trade Unions) does not live in Iran.  If she thinks a pay gap of 5% is something to worry about, she should check out this neck of the woods…

At one point in the conversation, Hooman’s face darkened and sadness gripped his face.  His brother was a protester during the 2008 election debacle. The government employed spies to march in the protests and gather details of those taking part.  Everyone who participated faced serious problems, not at the actual protest, but away from the cameras.  Hooman’s brother was sent packing back to Denmark (where he had joint-citizenship), his Iranian citizenship was revoked and Hooman has not seen his brother for 3 years.  It is near impossible for Iranian 's to travel so Hooman will likely never see his brother again…

 

Hooman and Dodd at a shoe mall:  A perfectly competitive market with 20 identical shops with identical product.

We left Hooman and proceeded into the shelter of the Bozorg Bazaar so Matt could look at some carpets.  It was about 2pm and I was feeling miiiiserable with no water.  I didn’t feel hungry the whole day but I constantly was aware that my mouth was drier than the Zayande River.

Si-O-Seh Bridge and Zayande River

Matt's lunch  - a gooey eggplant dish.  The consistency was that of playdough

Unfortunately we arrived at the bazaar in the middle of the 5 hour afternoon siesta . We saw a door ajar and heard some noise so poked our heads in. There were 6 men crowded around a carpet playing cards.  I sat down next ‘Ali’, whose daughter works in New Plymouth!  Little English was spoken but the political situation again took a forefront.  At one point ‘Ali’ rose off his seat, started dancing and chanting ‘no fun, no money, no dance, no sing, no drink, no sex OR’ – he did a NZ haka throat slitting action.   Hilarious but sobering.

Ali and the secret card players

Matt ended up buying a carpet from a nearby dealer after lets called it some ‘competitive’ bartering…

 

We were picked up by Mehdi, a friend of Eli.  We visited a spot with a great view of Isfahan.

For the remaining 3 hours of my fast, every second lasted an hour.  Muhhamad warned me that I would not know thirst until I have done a fast in 38C+ in Iran.  This particular fast is the worst possible timing being mid-summer.  Every year it moves 10 days earlier.  It is hard to describe but I realised I had a new worst possible way to die.  Thirst.

8.09 – waiting and ready

After downing about 3 litres of water and some dinner it was time to pass the evening smoking shesha with new danish couch surfers

Late in the evening we headed up the Isfahan gondola.  All around were families enjoying the park, kids playing in the quad and couples enjoying the serenity.  According to Muhhamad all the ‘social police’ go to sleep at night so the parks become festive.

A couple more sights

 

Couch Surfing in Iran

We are couch surfing in Isfahan.  We found Muhammad on couchsurfing.com and he is a regular host of couch surfers. Muhammad is a 36 year old engineer who is willing to go the extra mile to make all his guests feel at home.  He has some very interesting views on the political situation but I will not publish these as the internet is monitored here.  Currently there are 4 of us staying at his house.  Hori: a Japanese exchange student learning the Persian language and Leo a 35 year old German. 

We woke early in the morning and were treated to a standard Iranian breakfast.

Muhammad and Dodd on bus

We visited Inman Square, the second largest square in the world.  It is about 200m by 600 and simply b-e-a-utiful.

At one end of the square is Shah Mosque - the biggest Mosque in Iran. The interesting thing about Mosques is that they face towards Mecca in Saudi Arabia. Shah mosque is orientated at exactly 36 degrees to the square so that people can pray in the correct direction.

 

We spent the remainder of the day wandering through Bazaar’s and had a snooze for about 2 hours under some trees in a park. Isfahan is cooler than Yazd with a high of only 38C.  When 38C feels cool it is clear you are a long way from New Zealand.

Tonight Yuki, the exchange student, invited 2 friends over to dinner.  Once again the most friendly and interested people I have met.  At one point Hamad said to me, " I admire you for traveling around the world and wish I could do the same."  I quickly pointed out that it is by luck of birth that I have all the opportunities before me.  His comment has stuck with me. As John Rawls says  "no one knows his place in society, his class position or social status; nor does he know his fortune in the distribution of natural assets and abilities, his intelligence and strength,  ones morality should thus be based on the interests of all people."

 The dinner table from left to right:

Muhhamad, Hamed, Jaril, Yuki, Leo and Dodd

Tomorrow I have decided to do the full Ramadan fast which involves no eating or drinking from 4am until 830pm in the 38C+. The only way to experience a culture completely is by doing as they do.  I am writing this on my blog so that I have to do it.  Failure will be a very public failure. Tomorrow’s blog will be all about everyday life in Iran: the people, the dress code, the social nuances and the faces behind a non-existence democracy.

Yazd: a true oasis

We arrived in Yazd on the bus at 5am.  Exhausted we hit the hay for a few more hours to make the most of the day ahead. Yazd is one of the oldest cities in the world which dates back 3500 years. It has long been referred to as "the Pearl of the Desert" and from a distance it appears to have arisen from the sands like a living part of the desert. 

When exploring Yazd I quickly realised it was the bemuda triangle of cities. It feels like a giant version of the Wanaka puzzleworld.  The city is a labyrinth of alleyways and passages with huge 5m walls. The walls make navigation impossible, your vision is limited to only the next turn with every corner looking like the last.

Yazd is Iran's most conservative cities which becomes clear when you realise the whole population live behind the walls that line to alleys. You can walk for 10 minutes without hearing a sound or seeing a soul. It is located in the middle of the Dash-e Kavir desert and it has been 40C+ every day.  By midday it is unbearable and we frequently retreat back to the shelter of the hotel. 

One of the classic photos of the trip.  A standard Yazd street, Darth Vader in front, 5 cent flat bread in hand and a smile on the dial

City alleyways are often covered to escape the heat

 Yazd is famous for its air conditioning systems.  Large ‘badgirs’ litter the horizon, they funnel hot air down to the cool water below and then circulate the cooled air throughout the building.  Perhaps the NZ builders could learn a thing or two but it does not look like NZ is in any need of air conditioning at the moment.
 

A cement table tennis table in a children's playground.  Directly above me is a badgir.

Yazd is the center of Zoroastrian religion. The Zoroastrian heritage is preserved in Yazd through the Fire Temple and the Tower of Silence.  

The Zoroastrians worship fire and a flame has burning in the ‘temple of fire’ continuously there since 470AD!

The Tower of Silence is where the people left the dead to be eaten by vultures. They believe that if a body is buried it will pollute the earth.

Yazd from Tower of Silence

14/08/2011

We were picked up from the hotel at 6am this morning.  The mission: to see deep Iranian desert towns and some Zoroastrian settlements.  

We were joined by Julie and Ming from Denmark and China. 

First stop was Khanarq, a deserted mudbrick village which dates back 4000 years. We found a minaret to climb.  The whole village was crumbling and dangerous but I lost the rock off to see if the minaret was safe for humans.  After squeezing through the tight stairs and feeling the whole thing swaying I arrived and said it was safe.   

Stunning view from the Minaret

The minaret

The next stop was ‘Chak Chak’ an important Zoroastrian pilgrimage.  Chak Chak (‘drip drip’) is famous because of the continuous drip out of the rock face.  We visited the Pir-e-Sabz fire temple, home to the drip, which has a fantastic view which was well worth the climb in 40C.

Road to Chak Chak

The caretaker ‘Rashid’ offered us a cup of tea and we listened too his story nodding despite the fact we couldn’t understand a word.  The funniest moment of the day was Matt Dodd’s inability to use an iphone camera.  Julie wanted a photo taken on her Iphone, Dodd volunteered but continually pressed the home button.  Rashid (the caretaker) took over photo taking responsibilities and capably took the photo pressing the right button. 

Dodd waiting for a drip...exciting stuff

 

The last stop was Meybad where we visited a 7000 year old building, one of the oldest in the world.  Although it was a little underwhelming it gets extra credit for being so old.

Boring for most but a Pistachio tree was one of my highlights of the day

Tonight we are off to Isfahan which is regarded as one of the great historic, cultural and architectural cities of the world. 

The Silk Road: Overheating in Persepolis

After tucking into some breakfast (Roti wraps with tomato, cucumber and cream cheese) we went for a look around Shiraz. Once again the people very incredibly welcoming. They would shake hands with us and ask us where we are from.  It is amazing the number of people who know about ‘Nuuseeland’.  They say that NZ is very beautiful and seem to know a bit about it.  Iran is not as detached from the rest of the world it may seem.

First stop was the Citadel of Karim Khani, the main residential palace of Karim Khan-e-Zand and his dynasty in Shiraz. Surrounded by high brick walls, there are four towers, each at a corner of the complex. This place was used as a prison for thirty five years until 1971.

It is the middle of the Ramadan in Iran which means there is a fast from 7am to 7pm.  This is miiiserable when it is 37C and you are walking around all day.  It also means that prayers take on more significance and at about 130pm traffic in the city grinds to a halt as people rush to the midday session.

During this rush we witnessed our first Iranian scrap. A man zoomed off on a scooter with two women on board.  Another man chased the scooter and pulled the man off.  They proceeded to have public stouch involving a number of misplaced hay-makers.  Sam Bisset could do well opening a boxing gym in Shiraz.   Eventually an old man got between them and broke it up.

We visited the the Shah Cheragh, a shrine that dates back about 700 years. It has an expansive courtyard which is a great place to watch the moving climax to what is an important religious rite for Shiites. Although we were not allowed inside the shrine, we could still peer in and see the multicoloured reflections from the countless minute mirror tiles. 

 

The detail and symmetry of designs is simply stunning wherever you go in Iran. Islam dictates that it is improper to depict the human form or face so they have perfected the use of patterns and designs.While chatting to some locals we met the architect in charge of refurbishing the shrine.  We were given a behind the scenes tour meeting the people carving the ceramic tiles, cutting the mirrors and sculpting the marble.

An example of the finished product.

 

We then visited the graves of two famous Iranian poets Hafez and Sa’di. Hafez is the most famous poet in Persia whose works are in every Iranian house and are memorized to heart. These tombs are famous for their expansive gardens although it is only the contrast with the desert beyond that makes them so appealing. Our guide mentioned that young couples (who are not meant to meet in public) come to these sites to ‘have picnics’.   

 

 My ankle was playing up and swollen to the size of an orange so we had to head home to rest for the remainder of the day.  It is very hard to do a whole day in the heat and we have taken to going home for a siesta each day.

Accessing Facebook/stuff.co.nz and other vital websites like premierleague.com was problematic at first but having a computer guy with me came in useful and we quickly bypassed the block.

Off to bed now as I have had 11 hours sleep in last 60 hours.

12/08/2011

12 hours later we arose early for our tour of Persepolis and Necropolis.  We were joined on the tour by 2 aussies, an Austrian and a Japanese women.  The aussies were midway through their year long honeymoon and had arrived in Iran after 4 months in Africa!

Persepolis is a 2500 year old capital of the Achaemenid Empire.  A series of Kings added to it over 150 years and it is still in remarkably good condition. The funniest thing I heard all day was that Xerses II had a secret passage built from his residence (pic below) to where the women slept.  The guide said that not all men are so lucky.  The Austrian guy commented on how expensive it would be to have so many women.

It was incredibly warm at 40C and there was no shelter.  Water was carefully rationed…

At the nearby Necropolis we decided to get boozed so tucked into some 0.0% beer.  Alcohol is rare in Iran.

Shattered from the last two days and in preparation for an overnight bus journey to Yazd we took a quick afternoon siesta which ended up lasting the best part of 5 hours.  After some dinner and Shesha it was time to jump on the bus to Yazd.

Tomorrow we will explore the desert city of Yazd.  Famous for creating the first airconditioning systems

Kuala Lumpur to Shiraz, Iran: the awkward and entertaining moments inbetween

Late last night went for a stroll down towards to Patronas towers.  Absolutely stunning by night.

Woke at 830am hoping to make the most of my 3 hours in KL before I headed back to the airport.  Somehow ended up with a buddy for the morning when I explained to an English guy ‘Matt’ the virtues of having bananas on toast for breakfast.  We decided to go exploring together.  First stop were the Patronas towers again.  We ventured out of the heat into the mall under the towers filled with Gucci, Prada and Nike…typical. 

With time running out we checked out the national aquarium. The most disturbing being the giant water rats which were about the size of a cocker spaniel.  

 Awkward looking stingray

I made my way back out to the airport on the high speed train system.  What took 1 hour 40 by bus on arrival took only took 25 mins on the way. I was struggling to find the correct ticket counter among the masses in KL airport but when I saw this sight I knew I was at the right place…

I was one of the last people to board the plane and may have been the only non-Iranian. As I walked down the aisle I couldn’t help but feel 300 eyes look at me with interest. I was lucky enough to sit next to Eli, an Iranian student studying in KL.  We talked for the majority of the 8 hour plane ride.  The most interesting topic covered was the political situation in Iran and the social/economic harms it is causing. Moreover that a large proportion of the young educated people want to leave Iran due to restrictive social, religious and free speech laws. Eli was convinced that the only way to fix Iran’s issues was to have a firm divide between politics and religion. Eli was amazing because she willingly talked about all facets of her life and religion even when some of my questions were surely borderline.

As we touched down in Iran the whole plane erupted with rhythmic clapping and people shouting ‘we finally arrive in Iran!!!’ Eli commented ironically that this was one of the few times the people could happily celebrate as parties are banned in present day Iran. 

We touched down at 930pm and I still had the mission of finding my way between airports. Thankfully Eli’s family offered a ride as it was on their way home.  Something I have quickly realised is genuine and unfettered generosity of the Iranian people. Eli’s dad not only escorted me and my bags into the airport but also gave me a very important piece of advice,  “make sure you use the men’s check in and boarding area rather than the womens” he said. It was 11pm and I stayed up all night waiting for my 630am flight and hoping the Mr Mohamad would show up as arranged with my ticket.  Luckily Mr Mohammad did show up and I was soon enough boarding the plane to Shiraz.

The departure displays were sub-optimal.  All I knew was that my flight was IR425 and little else.

With the immaturity of a 11.3 year old I had to post the safety card from the "Fokker 100" plane

Iran from the air

 Anyway, I have arrived at the Niayesh Hotel in Shiraz and am waiting for Matt Dodd to turn up so we can go explore this place.

No water fights in Iran!

Jumped on the plane this morning and one of the first articles in the dom-post was about 17 kids being arrested in Iran for having a water fight.  How dare they have a water fight and thank goodness the authorities are there to deal with such insolence.  

 Just a friendly reminder from the dom-post to tread carefully over the next few weeks.

Obligatory southern alps shot...

Just arrived at BackHome hostel in Kuala Lumpur. I almost got lost looking for it but bumped into two other kiwis (Miles and Liz) who were looking for the same hostel!  Small world at 1am on the backstreets to KL.

Tomorrow...Tehran!

Departure gate

Finally received the thumbs up from the surgeon so leaving tomorrow! For the first time in 7 months I am starting to walk like a non-cripple. Rehab has been almost a full time job with daily physio and pool sessions.

The next 48 hours could be very interesting.

Tomorrow I will be sleeping in Kuala Lumpur - hopefully in a hostel rather than a park bench.  I have about 3 hours in the morning to check out the Patronas Towers and the national museum.  I then board a 10 hour flight to Tehran - travelling on the cheapest of airfares with no food, entertainment or take on baggage - definitely cattle class.

When I arrive in Tehran at 10pm I have to navigate from the international airport to the domestic airport.  Conveniently they are an hour away from each other on far sides of the city...

Upon arrival at Mehrabad airport I am instructed by my contact "Shima" to meet "Mr Muhammad" at the information desk. I wonder how many Mr Muhammads there may be at the airport at that point...  I had terrible difficulty booking an internal flight in Iran but hopefully it is sorted.

Here is a copy of my "E-ticket" which Shima sent me.  Looks legit...

Anyway, finally this blog is up and running properly after a false start in July.