Fuuuuck mang, I just wrote most of another entry on my train ride back from Heidelberg and through some magic when I stood up to get out I looked back onto my iPod and the notes was blank and I couldn't figure out how to get it back.
Things like this really bother me sometimes because I feel like I am wasting time rewritting this a bit but I am now showered and enjoying a beer back at my hostel so really there isn't much else I rather be doing.
Anywho, I had put before that there is this evolution of my blog it seems where I talk both about the present (when I am actually writing) and the past (when this entry happened). I personally really like it and will continue it. I enjoy the dichotomy in time it creates so if you are reading this, deal with it. Not that many people are actually reading this. Hah
Anywho, back to the little bit boring task of re-writting my day of July 1, 2010.
On this day we woke up and had breakfast at the hotel. It was bread, cheese, eggs, some cold-cuts, and fruits. Not too bad.
After the breakfast we went back to the imam square and finished going through the bazar from the day before. After that we deided to check out the main mosque which is on one side of the square. It was really cool to see all the intriquete tile work that was done all over the dome of the mosque. The thousands, if not tens of thousands, of tiles were each hand-painted, fired, and then placed into their correct place. The amazing part of this in my oppinion is the idea that back then there was no computer that would allow them to visualize the inished product and know exactly where each tile went before any stroke of the brush.
[This is where I stopped last night so I am now, 7-13-2010, restarting the rest of the story. However you must have a background of why I suddenly have time to write. It's 2:30pm and I have a flight to London at 5:40 leaving from Frankfurt HAN. Why do I capitalize that last part? Because I am sittig at Frrankfurth M, an hour thirty minute bus-ride away. The next bus comes at 3:15 which would put me t the airport at 4:45. It was suggested to be no less than two hours early. Yeah, gonna have to pull a miracle and may just miss the flight :/. But anywho you gotta stay tuned to hear about that.]
Back to our day in Esfehan. So as I sai it was really nice to see the tile-work of the mosque up-close. There was a small problem though. If you wanted to stand back an see the tile work from the opposite side of the mosque's courtyard and just take in the dome as a hole, you couldn't. You see, the couryard has recently been turned into a place for Friday prayers am this includes a canopy to block the sun from the seculist below. In a way, as I have beat this point to the ground, it is cool that this 400 year old structure is still providing it's initial purpouse. After-all it is possible that rugs and carpet were scattered everywhere an that a similar canopy covered the old elite religious sha an his company from the sun. However it just takes away from th visual beauty a bit is all.
There wa only about 8 people in the entire mosque, two of whom where a european couple. It was a bit surprising and also nice to see that foreigners know, appriciate, and still come to Iran with all the challenges such a trip poses in terms of logisics and ease of travel. Within the mosque these Europeans were approached kindly by a soft-spoken student mullah of that mosque who welcomed them there in pretty good English who after making small talk told them to feel free to ask him anything.
Anywho, after that we went and saw the private house the shaw had built in this square to watch events that went on in the center. The house had a spectacular view of the entire square.
[well I just tucked myself by getting on the wrong bus that was going to Frankfurt the city instead of Frankfurt Han the airport. The stops are like three inches apart and the buses come two minutes apart. There is a 99% chance I sill kiss the flight as the right bus will get there around 5:40 so unless my flight is delayed I am screwed. While I was waiting I checked the ticket price to London via train and it's $450. Hopefully last minute airplane price is less via Ryan air. I'm not very hopeful though as they definitely know this is the train ticket price and will not price it significantly less. But lesson learned. Double check all names so you know you ar going tothe righ place and um FUCKING ASK SOMEONE. usually expensive lessons are best learned so let's just say I will not forget this one.]
Anyway, back to my story of esfehan. It was our first day there and while waiting in line fo one of the museums around this square I was approached by an Iranian who spoke to me in English trying to sell me a tour. It was interesting that apparantly I didn't look Iranian enough to be spoken to in Farsi at first.
Throughout the rest of the day we traveled through the city isiting other famous landmarks such as fourty pillars and 8-paradise garden. It was a typical day and by the end of it I was exhausted of siteseeing.
For dinner we bought four personal pizzas and sat by one of the bridges like the rest of th people and enjoyed our dinner. Btw in Iran pizzas are a bit different as there is no pizza sauce on it so people eat pizza with ketchup. Yeah. Crazy stuff. Hah.
After dinner we strolled home and bought some Persian ice-creak along the way. About halfway through the icecream mine fell and I ended that day sad and dissapointed in myself :(.
-NZ
BTW: I got on as they were closing the gate. They let me on!!!! What. A. Fucking. Experience. I am absolutely sweating a lot because of the running but I don't care, I'm here!!!!!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
06-30-2010
Hey everyone,
Today is 7-12 and I'm on an hour and half train ride to Heidelberg so I have some time to update my blog. I kind of understand what Jeremy was saying about having a book to read on the road. I don't know if I'll be in the mood to update my blog on all these train rides but for now I am. It is soo freaken hot and it's only 10am. The weather is weird here in Germany, it's humid hot so even though it is only probably about 75 degrees you sweat and feel way hotter. Oh well, everyone just has a glow about them is all. Hah. This entry is a pretty good one. It is about the first day of my trip to esfehan, a really beautiful city in the middle of a dessert built solely around a river that is fed from a nearby mountain range.
On June 30th we went to the airport to head off to Esfehan. If you've ever been to an airport for the first time you know how hard it is to find anything. You need to look at hundreds of signs and sometimes drastically change lanes at the last minute trying to get to where you want to go. That's all good and well. It's part of being in an unfimiliar place and signs help you get there. Now imagine that airport you were just at with NO SIGNS. That's what you have going on in Iran. The airport we went to had essentially no signs. If you didn't know where you were going you would be lost for hours.
This leads me onto a little wierd side rant I noticed while traveling throughout Iran. People here ask eachother directions alllll the time. It is both cool and weird to see. Without the widespread use of GPS and Internet, everyone has come to accept the fact that they don't need to know how to get somewhere. Rather just know general direction toward their destinaion and ask when you get close. You can ask taxi drivers, store owners, and pedestrians. Anyone near an area you are visiting is fair game. It's like a wikipedia project where everyone knows their hometown streets (even the tiny ones) reaaallllly well and contributes in the overall transport of the foreigners. Wikipedia is similar that the idea is you know the topic you contribute toward ideally and then people that want to know more come to the site and sort of ask you.
Anywho, back to my story. So we get to the airport and like many other things in this coutry, security is both disfinctional and also seperated by gender. The latter is pretty self explanatory, men go one way and women another for going through security. Pat downs ar really frequent so it kiiiind of makes sense. But let me tell you about the former. Firstly there is little to no limit to what you can bring on. People brought on bags of all sizes and shapes and I got on with a razor and nailclippers. And whatever the limit is to what can be brought on, the chances of the airport security actually catching you and confescating it is slim to none.
On multiple occassions while picking up my bag on the other side of the machine I saw the two guards sitting behind the x-Ray monitor screen and completely turned and talking to eachother. Paying no attention at all to what was passing them and out the other side. They were seriously facing eachother rather than the screen. There is an interesting thing to note here though, it seems they never have a problem. I mean in America we would be irate an terrified if our airport secuity was like that but in Iran it is how its done and nothing happens. But then again Westeners do not bomb Iranian planes but SOME FEW middle easterners would bomb and abuse such a lacks system if it where implemented in America so it would not happen.
So now onto the 45minute flight to esfehan. Here I leaned that Iranian airlines take infinitely better care of their passanger nutritionally but infinately worst care temperaturely (although nt completely there fault as you'll see below). In this 45 minute flight we got a full sandwich, juice, and a piece of choclate, but no airconditionng.
In this 45 minute flight we got roasted. Iranian airlines face harsh limits on jet-fule because of all the sanctions and to save fuel the airlines do not turn on their a/c. btw neither do taxi drivers because of the same reason. Everyone receives a quota of gas, tracked through a personal gas card, and taxi drivers can't afford to use up their gas on anything but driving because that is how they make their living. Some even leave off their headlights off at night because they don't want their alternator to be turnig an charging the battery which soends gas.
Seeing the affect of sanctions on the people of Iran is a bit troubling because the government does not seem to give a rat's ass about how its people feel and live. So eventhough the sanctions are working and pressuring the citizens, the government, and rich people, are unaffected because their are always more expensive black-market options. For example in the case of gas, if you run out of your quota you can buy from someone else for a high price or buy uneubsidized gas at 8x the price. Te taxi drivers can't afford to pay 8x the gas price and not change his rates.
Anyho, so we got to Esfehan and boy is it beautiful. On the plane ride there, after about 25 minutes the land becomes a sandy dessert below. However, about 5 minutes before getting to esfehan everything changes and you see literally a strip of oasis in this dessert which surrounds a flowing river coming from the mountain range nearby. Really cool to see and totally shows how this city was created and survived because of that river hundreds of years ago. You don't need a book to tell you it, it's all right in front of you.
Anywho, we got to our hotel which was magneficent. For some reason my aunt had decided to literally treat us like royalty. We stayed at hotel Abbasi which was used as a guest house for visitors of the king a couple hundred years ago when esfehan used to be the capital of the Persian empire. Of course it was renevated and the rooms where not actually really crazy king nice or anything but still cool.
Anywho, after checking in and chilling a bit we decided to hit the main square, imam square. There wa a giiiiiant bazar surrounding the square and we walked through about half of it. Bazars are reallly awesome and barganing is part of the price since there is a 100% chance a nearby store will have the exact same thing. Also no price is marked which makes things more interesting and cofusing. Tourists and outta-towners get an automatic surcharge that they have to bargain and shop around a bit to try to best avoid.
After the bazar we went to a restaurant in a little catholic part of Esfehan. After dinner while walking around for the first time I noticed something for I think the first time, the girls in Iran have really found a way to look "good" even with all the hejab restrictions. I use the quotes because a looot of the people have taken this attempt too far and it has backfired. They wear a ton of make-up, are for some weird reason all into being blonde, and act a bit too prissy for my taste. But all in all some have found a happy medium and really do look good. Even though it is technically illegal they all wear their headdress half off their hair, have painted nails, and the coat thing you must wear over your shirt has now morphed into a long sleeve shirt that is a bit long lenght-wise. When I left 12 years ago this was significantly different and people would not dare wear what is now commonplace.
After walking around a bit more we then took a taxi ride to the river to walk around and look all the old and awesome bridges built 400years ago when the town started. The neat thing about seeing such old structures is that they are still being used to this day and that is really a positive thing I think.
Another cool thing was the huuuuge number of people and families having a picnic around the river on the grass. Because of the heat, people flea their homes and come by the river where the flowing water keeps the temperature a bit more moderate.
Through the day my aunt had noticed the water level of the bridge being lower than she remembered so on our next taxi ride she brought it up. The taxi driver then told us a little tale that is depressing. Recently the government had allowed the construction of a tunnel that diverted water from the mountain to another town in order to help with pistacheu production which takes a lot of water. There was a person who had a huge stake in these farms that also knew the right people in the government and was abke to pass the bill without Esfehanians really knowing what was going on. It was really a sad tale and it reminded me of the importance of enviornmentalist groups in the us that watch out for things like this and try to bring it to the attention of the people affectected. Although these groups are not always best funded in America, it is a marke comparison with their role in Iran. In Iran enviornmental groups are small if not nonexistent and as I said the government really does not care what the people think so even if they had more funding laws could be passed one way or another.
That was really all on that day. We retuned to our hotel and enjoyed expensive (relatively as it was still only $1.60) ice cream and then went to asleep.
-NZ
Today is 7-12 and I'm on an hour and half train ride to Heidelberg so I have some time to update my blog. I kind of understand what Jeremy was saying about having a book to read on the road. I don't know if I'll be in the mood to update my blog on all these train rides but for now I am. It is soo freaken hot and it's only 10am. The weather is weird here in Germany, it's humid hot so even though it is only probably about 75 degrees you sweat and feel way hotter. Oh well, everyone just has a glow about them is all. Hah. This entry is a pretty good one. It is about the first day of my trip to esfehan, a really beautiful city in the middle of a dessert built solely around a river that is fed from a nearby mountain range.
On June 30th we went to the airport to head off to Esfehan. If you've ever been to an airport for the first time you know how hard it is to find anything. You need to look at hundreds of signs and sometimes drastically change lanes at the last minute trying to get to where you want to go. That's all good and well. It's part of being in an unfimiliar place and signs help you get there. Now imagine that airport you were just at with NO SIGNS. That's what you have going on in Iran. The airport we went to had essentially no signs. If you didn't know where you were going you would be lost for hours.
This leads me onto a little wierd side rant I noticed while traveling throughout Iran. People here ask eachother directions alllll the time. It is both cool and weird to see. Without the widespread use of GPS and Internet, everyone has come to accept the fact that they don't need to know how to get somewhere. Rather just know general direction toward their destinaion and ask when you get close. You can ask taxi drivers, store owners, and pedestrians. Anyone near an area you are visiting is fair game. It's like a wikipedia project where everyone knows their hometown streets (even the tiny ones) reaaallllly well and contributes in the overall transport of the foreigners. Wikipedia is similar that the idea is you know the topic you contribute toward ideally and then people that want to know more come to the site and sort of ask you.
Anywho, back to my story. So we get to the airport and like many other things in this coutry, security is both disfinctional and also seperated by gender. The latter is pretty self explanatory, men go one way and women another for going through security. Pat downs ar really frequent so it kiiiind of makes sense. But let me tell you about the former. Firstly there is little to no limit to what you can bring on. People brought on bags of all sizes and shapes and I got on with a razor and nailclippers. And whatever the limit is to what can be brought on, the chances of the airport security actually catching you and confescating it is slim to none.
On multiple occassions while picking up my bag on the other side of the machine I saw the two guards sitting behind the x-Ray monitor screen and completely turned and talking to eachother. Paying no attention at all to what was passing them and out the other side. They were seriously facing eachother rather than the screen. There is an interesting thing to note here though, it seems they never have a problem. I mean in America we would be irate an terrified if our airport secuity was like that but in Iran it is how its done and nothing happens. But then again Westeners do not bomb Iranian planes but SOME FEW middle easterners would bomb and abuse such a lacks system if it where implemented in America so it would not happen.
So now onto the 45minute flight to esfehan. Here I leaned that Iranian airlines take infinitely better care of their passanger nutritionally but infinately worst care temperaturely (although nt completely there fault as you'll see below). In this 45 minute flight we got a full sandwich, juice, and a piece of choclate, but no airconditionng.
In this 45 minute flight we got roasted. Iranian airlines face harsh limits on jet-fule because of all the sanctions and to save fuel the airlines do not turn on their a/c. btw neither do taxi drivers because of the same reason. Everyone receives a quota of gas, tracked through a personal gas card, and taxi drivers can't afford to use up their gas on anything but driving because that is how they make their living. Some even leave off their headlights off at night because they don't want their alternator to be turnig an charging the battery which soends gas.
Seeing the affect of sanctions on the people of Iran is a bit troubling because the government does not seem to give a rat's ass about how its people feel and live. So eventhough the sanctions are working and pressuring the citizens, the government, and rich people, are unaffected because their are always more expensive black-market options. For example in the case of gas, if you run out of your quota you can buy from someone else for a high price or buy uneubsidized gas at 8x the price. Te taxi drivers can't afford to pay 8x the gas price and not change his rates.
Anyho, so we got to Esfehan and boy is it beautiful. On the plane ride there, after about 25 minutes the land becomes a sandy dessert below. However, about 5 minutes before getting to esfehan everything changes and you see literally a strip of oasis in this dessert which surrounds a flowing river coming from the mountain range nearby. Really cool to see and totally shows how this city was created and survived because of that river hundreds of years ago. You don't need a book to tell you it, it's all right in front of you.
Anywho, we got to our hotel which was magneficent. For some reason my aunt had decided to literally treat us like royalty. We stayed at hotel Abbasi which was used as a guest house for visitors of the king a couple hundred years ago when esfehan used to be the capital of the Persian empire. Of course it was renevated and the rooms where not actually really crazy king nice or anything but still cool.
Anywho, after checking in and chilling a bit we decided to hit the main square, imam square. There wa a giiiiiant bazar surrounding the square and we walked through about half of it. Bazars are reallly awesome and barganing is part of the price since there is a 100% chance a nearby store will have the exact same thing. Also no price is marked which makes things more interesting and cofusing. Tourists and outta-towners get an automatic surcharge that they have to bargain and shop around a bit to try to best avoid.
After the bazar we went to a restaurant in a little catholic part of Esfehan. After dinner while walking around for the first time I noticed something for I think the first time, the girls in Iran have really found a way to look "good" even with all the hejab restrictions. I use the quotes because a looot of the people have taken this attempt too far and it has backfired. They wear a ton of make-up, are for some weird reason all into being blonde, and act a bit too prissy for my taste. But all in all some have found a happy medium and really do look good. Even though it is technically illegal they all wear their headdress half off their hair, have painted nails, and the coat thing you must wear over your shirt has now morphed into a long sleeve shirt that is a bit long lenght-wise. When I left 12 years ago this was significantly different and people would not dare wear what is now commonplace.
After walking around a bit more we then took a taxi ride to the river to walk around and look all the old and awesome bridges built 400years ago when the town started. The neat thing about seeing such old structures is that they are still being used to this day and that is really a positive thing I think.
Another cool thing was the huuuuge number of people and families having a picnic around the river on the grass. Because of the heat, people flea their homes and come by the river where the flowing water keeps the temperature a bit more moderate.
Through the day my aunt had noticed the water level of the bridge being lower than she remembered so on our next taxi ride she brought it up. The taxi driver then told us a little tale that is depressing. Recently the government had allowed the construction of a tunnel that diverted water from the mountain to another town in order to help with pistacheu production which takes a lot of water. There was a person who had a huge stake in these farms that also knew the right people in the government and was abke to pass the bill without Esfehanians really knowing what was going on. It was really a sad tale and it reminded me of the importance of enviornmentalist groups in the us that watch out for things like this and try to bring it to the attention of the people affectected. Although these groups are not always best funded in America, it is a marke comparison with their role in Iran. In Iran enviornmental groups are small if not nonexistent and as I said the government really does not care what the people think so even if they had more funding laws could be passed one way or another.
That was really all on that day. We retuned to our hotel and enjoyed expensive (relatively as it was still only $1.60) ice cream and then went to asleep.
-NZ
Monday, July 12, 2010
06-29-2010
Hey everyone,
Today is slurpy day, 7-11, and it's my first night in Germany. It's about 2am and I took a three hour nap earlier since I didn't sleep at allll the night before. My flight to Germany left Iran at 3 and it pretty much killed my night's rest. Since I can't fall asleep I'll update my blog a bit here on my iPod touch. This is going to be a pretty short entry actually.
Today, June 29th, I woke up and decided to work on my blog some and upload some pictures to the Internet. Since I was going to have the morning to myself, having requested it off from my mom and aunt about a week ago, I leasurely ate breakfast and began what I thought was going to be the simple task of using the Internet.
However, as I have learned with many other things throughout my time in Iran, easy is nothing (que "impossible is nothing" speech I gave at my highschool graduation). I started writing my first entry and about 2 pages through the electricity went fluctuated, causing the surge protector on the comp to kick in and turn in off. 2 pages lost but lesson learned. Instead of making blog enteries on blogspot I strictly use Microsoft word on 1 minute autosave.
This new method came on handy as the electricity continued to be a significant nusance and repeatedly trigger the surge protector throught the day.
This was not the end of the issues though. No serry bob. While writting my entries I was trying to also upload pictures from my first week in Iran. However, not only was the Internet slower than a 90 year-old parapligic, no fence to them, it broke down more than a Ford (Fixed Or Repaired Daily, joke courtesy if father mark). It would randomly stop working in the middle of an uplaod and require a restart of the modem.
What I had planned to be a one-two hour relaxing Internet session documenting my trip ended up being a five hour stressaton. Thanks Iranian Internet and electricity for reminding me why I love America.
After lunch and some more attempts a uploading pictures, after 5 hours of work I was done. I reste a bit and for dinner we went to my mom's friend's house again. However this time she had made the best albalo polo of my life (sour cherry rice) it was sooooooooo delicious and tasty I ate plate full. There was also a really good lasagna she made in the lasagna pan we ha brought her from America. I find it interesting that people here make it a point I think to use the stuff you give then as a gift in front of you.
After dinner, stuffed to the brim, I relaxed to watch the world-cup game of the night. However a few minutes after sitting, the dad of my mom's friend asked my uncle to play backgammon.
Now if you have read my blog you know my personal belief in my backgammon skills. I am the shit. Now I know my uncle is not good at all and I had heard stories about this guy, at this point in his late 80's, being pretty good, so I told my uncle I'll play him.
It started out well and I had him in a death-grip in the first game. However, with one or two rolls of the dice and some really good strategic play before that, he turned the game completely around and beat me.
He was old and the game had took a while so I imagined this was the only game we were gonna play. After-all it was around midnight now. However, he looked at me and told me to set it up again.
We played and this time I got beat baaad. I couldn't even collect any of my pieces before he was done going him 2 points. Backgammon is usually best of three, and with his luck in the irat fans he beat me 3-0.
It was the first time in a looooong time I had lost a best of three. My mom's friend asked his dad who was better, me or my uncle, and without saying a wor he pointed to me.
He then again asked me to set it up. I was even getting tired of playing. With some luck an sloppy play from his part though I won this game the same way e beat me last game, without him collecting any pieces.
H wasn't going to go down like that though an asked me to set it ONCE again. This time we played and he just quit in the middle of this game saying he was tired. It was clear why e quit though, he was gonna win and he knew it. He had beat me handedly.
After we packed everything up my mom's friend told me he doesn't play more than two games max with anyone let alone almost four. I think rightly I take that as a complement.
It was an awesome little day and only a thing you can experience when you are in a country with people you know. Now being in Germany and setting off on my Europe trip I realize the little treasures I will never experience here no matter how hard I try.
-NZ
Today is slurpy day, 7-11, and it's my first night in Germany. It's about 2am and I took a three hour nap earlier since I didn't sleep at allll the night before. My flight to Germany left Iran at 3 and it pretty much killed my night's rest. Since I can't fall asleep I'll update my blog a bit here on my iPod touch. This is going to be a pretty short entry actually.
Today, June 29th, I woke up and decided to work on my blog some and upload some pictures to the Internet. Since I was going to have the morning to myself, having requested it off from my mom and aunt about a week ago, I leasurely ate breakfast and began what I thought was going to be the simple task of using the Internet.
However, as I have learned with many other things throughout my time in Iran, easy is nothing (que "impossible is nothing" speech I gave at my highschool graduation). I started writing my first entry and about 2 pages through the electricity went fluctuated, causing the surge protector on the comp to kick in and turn in off. 2 pages lost but lesson learned. Instead of making blog enteries on blogspot I strictly use Microsoft word on 1 minute autosave.
This new method came on handy as the electricity continued to be a significant nusance and repeatedly trigger the surge protector throught the day.
This was not the end of the issues though. No serry bob. While writting my entries I was trying to also upload pictures from my first week in Iran. However, not only was the Internet slower than a 90 year-old parapligic, no fence to them, it broke down more than a Ford (Fixed Or Repaired Daily, joke courtesy if father mark). It would randomly stop working in the middle of an uplaod and require a restart of the modem.
What I had planned to be a one-two hour relaxing Internet session documenting my trip ended up being a five hour stressaton. Thanks Iranian Internet and electricity for reminding me why I love America.
After lunch and some more attempts a uploading pictures, after 5 hours of work I was done. I reste a bit and for dinner we went to my mom's friend's house again. However this time she had made the best albalo polo of my life (sour cherry rice) it was sooooooooo delicious and tasty I ate plate full. There was also a really good lasagna she made in the lasagna pan we ha brought her from America. I find it interesting that people here make it a point I think to use the stuff you give then as a gift in front of you.
After dinner, stuffed to the brim, I relaxed to watch the world-cup game of the night. However a few minutes after sitting, the dad of my mom's friend asked my uncle to play backgammon.
Now if you have read my blog you know my personal belief in my backgammon skills. I am the shit. Now I know my uncle is not good at all and I had heard stories about this guy, at this point in his late 80's, being pretty good, so I told my uncle I'll play him.
It started out well and I had him in a death-grip in the first game. However, with one or two rolls of the dice and some really good strategic play before that, he turned the game completely around and beat me.
He was old and the game had took a while so I imagined this was the only game we were gonna play. After-all it was around midnight now. However, he looked at me and told me to set it up again.
We played and this time I got beat baaad. I couldn't even collect any of my pieces before he was done going him 2 points. Backgammon is usually best of three, and with his luck in the irat fans he beat me 3-0.
It was the first time in a looooong time I had lost a best of three. My mom's friend asked his dad who was better, me or my uncle, and without saying a wor he pointed to me.
He then again asked me to set it up. I was even getting tired of playing. With some luck an sloppy play from his part though I won this game the same way e beat me last game, without him collecting any pieces.
H wasn't going to go down like that though an asked me to set it ONCE again. This time we played and he just quit in the middle of this game saying he was tired. It was clear why e quit though, he was gonna win and he knew it. He had beat me handedly.
After we packed everything up my mom's friend told me he doesn't play more than two games max with anyone let alone almost four. I think rightly I take that as a complement.
It was an awesome little day and only a thing you can experience when you are in a country with people you know. Now being in Germany and setting off on my Europe trip I realize the little treasures I will never experience here no matter how hard I try.
-NZ
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
06-28-2010
Hello everyone.
Today is 07-07-2010 and about 9:30a.m. We are going to rasht later today and I cannot make the internet work I am going to write a few entries. It is really hard to catch up on all these days because on top of finding time to do it I simply don’t feel like writing all the details of a day. I have a feeling this may be something that I fall about 10-15 days behind over the course of this vacation and will have to finish when I get back to U.S of A.
Woke up on the 28th with the water saga continuing as the water seemed to be off again. However, it came back and was on the rest of the day (for as long as we were there at least). We were leaving our villa and heading back to Tehran. I noticed my stomach pain and diarrhea were gone and I was a happy camper.
I took a moment to take in the place one last time because I honestly am not sure when I will be back again, and with what company. There was a constant chatter of crickets in the air, an occasional sound of rooster (I know it has a name that noise they make, I just don’t know it nor have internet to look it up), and the constant hum of water pump and a/c unit inside. Of course these noises were constantly being drowned out by the sweet voice of the people talking there and preparing breakfast. I was right as a child, this place was perfect.
We closed the big iron red door and head back toward Tehran. As you’ve learned from my previous explanations of a car trip in Iran, this was no dash to home. Overall we stopped six times during the 80 or so mile trip back home. That’s one stop every 13 miles if you are not good with the math.
First we stopped for my sister to buy a Persian basket to find that the stores that used to sell those things now sell all types of Made in China junk instead. Then we stopped a little farther along to buy fruits. Apparently these fruits are better and cheaper than the ones in Tehran, alllrighty. A bit later we stopped to get tea at this nice little tea-house in the woods. I was told we used to stop here all the time on our way to our villa but I did not remember it. The only thing that rang a bell was the fact that I was told they have horseback riding here. As a kid I remember riding the horse in a jungle somewhere and I guess this was it. A bit later we stopped at the tallest point along the way. My grandpa started the tradition of stopping here. There is a mosque at this place and even though we are Jewish, my grandpa always donated a few dollars to the mosque up here. We stopped once again to by a vase and I bought 5 mini vase looking things to use as shot-glasses. Total cost of $1. I have NO CLUE why I did not buy an even 6 though to make a complete set. DUMB move. We went a bit more and we stopped one last time and ate Persian ice-cream. It was raaather good. The trip, it took 10 hours total. That’s an average of 8mph if you are not good with the math. Yeah, I can run faster than that (obviously not for the entire 80 miles but you get the idea).
During the trip we passed by mount Damavand, the mountain my uncle climbed before he died of ALS. It was very interesting to see and brought more emotion than I thought. I feel like one day one of my cousins (or I) will climb that mountain again in his name. It’s just suuuch a rational thing to do to try to get close with him in a spiritual kind of way thing.
After I finally got home and had a moment to sit I realized how tired I was from everything that had gone on the past week or so. I started to miss home and certain people…It was really the first time in my life feeling home-sick I think but I could not help it. Vacationing in a 3rd world country, although VERY interesting because of the culture you are thrust into, is a lot of work. Overall the stress level of this country is orders of magnitude higher than in U.S. We have been constantly either doing something or going somewhere or visiting with someone this entire time and I’m close to exhausted.
(For the first time I will quote you straight from my diary and not summarize/expand. As I was writing about my day and how tired I was from everything we done I came to a reallllly weird/obvious conclusion and I want to share that word-by-word.)
“Soo tired from this trip. I feel I can’t enjoy things as much as I like to because stress here is sooooo high. Everything is fun but has stress also. During vacation to shomal I was terrified of the drive there/back and so very stressed. Then we were doing something 90% of the time. I rather relax/rest also as part of vacation. It is worrying me for my Europe trip I think I need one day of complete rest per week.”
Now if you know me you know that I am not religious AT ALL but this was a weird conclusion to come into in my exhaustion. I will continue a bit more.
“What a realization. I was nothing thinking that is the point of all religions. Religions were created during periods of really high intensity and stress life and it seems like you need at least one day of rest a week before you can continue on or you will burn out. I just wonder though if this was a top-down or bottom-up realization”
The last sentence just means I wonder if I subconsciously came to this conclusion (that you need rest once about every seven days) because of my knowledge of how religions are or really because of my fatigue. Either way it was an interesting little bit I thought I had to share from my journal.
Anywho, I will now go on two random tangents here but they are both from my journal of that day. One, I am getting exponentially better at speaking Farsi. It was REALLY tough for me to speak full Farsi here at first. Even though I grew up here for 9 years it was 12 years since I was in the country and had to speak full Farsi. It’s not as easy of a transition as it would seem because in America all the Farsi I speak is mixed in with English words when I cannot remember something. These less often used words over time completely leave my mind and now having to dig for them is both challenging and sometimes funny. For example sometimes in my search for the right word I say the right sounding word but it has an extra “r” or “d” or whatever. Since I cannot exactly remember the word I just say it and people burst in laughter because for example I add a “d” to the word talk and said tadelk. Yeah. It is a bit embarrassing but it is also funny. However, over the first week I have gotten sooooo much better at this. Another aspect of the language I have gotten better at is reading. I left here in 3rd grade and was a proficient reader but the Persian alphabet has left me a bit. I mean they have 32 letters, three “s,” two “z,” and a host of other letters not even represented in the English alphabet. To top it off, Farsi has no written vowels. So for example my name “Navid” is really written “Nvid” but that “I” can be a “EEE” sound or a “v” sound depending on the situation. So the context of the surrounding letters changes the sound. Now not having read Farsi for 12 years, I forget some letters and some context things and whenever I get bored I start reading the road signs out loud to everyone. It is a GREAT comedic show actually as I read like a R-tard.
Second rant is about the question I get asked almost daily here from anyone I meet for the first time. “Is Iran or America better?” For me it is a really simple answer, “America.” I am more comfortable there and I am more used to the way of life and the people. However, I cannot say with certainty one is better than the other. Millions of people still live here and life in Iran is so different (in terms of priorities and standard of living) that it is not fair to even compare. It’s like apples and oranges. Iran is not like other modernized European countries where the differences with America are language, tax-rate, free-market laws, weather, and some logistics that one can decide which one they like over the other. Iran is fundamentally different. I don’t know how to explain it. If you are asking me to apply modernized standards of living I am used to in America to answer this question it be like asking if an anorexic or sumo wrestler is fatter. What’s the point of asking? You know the answer. It’s a question that bothers me when I’m asked because I know they are just making small-talk but I cannot bring myself to just give them a straight answer of yes or no. I have to explain to them that there are a lot of differences in styles of life in the two countries that make the comparison really irrelevant and I feel like a dick.
-NZ
Today is 07-07-2010 and about 9:30a.m. We are going to rasht later today and I cannot make the internet work I am going to write a few entries. It is really hard to catch up on all these days because on top of finding time to do it I simply don’t feel like writing all the details of a day. I have a feeling this may be something that I fall about 10-15 days behind over the course of this vacation and will have to finish when I get back to U.S of A.
Woke up on the 28th with the water saga continuing as the water seemed to be off again. However, it came back and was on the rest of the day (for as long as we were there at least). We were leaving our villa and heading back to Tehran. I noticed my stomach pain and diarrhea were gone and I was a happy camper.
I took a moment to take in the place one last time because I honestly am not sure when I will be back again, and with what company. There was a constant chatter of crickets in the air, an occasional sound of rooster (I know it has a name that noise they make, I just don’t know it nor have internet to look it up), and the constant hum of water pump and a/c unit inside. Of course these noises were constantly being drowned out by the sweet voice of the people talking there and preparing breakfast. I was right as a child, this place was perfect.
We closed the big iron red door and head back toward Tehran. As you’ve learned from my previous explanations of a car trip in Iran, this was no dash to home. Overall we stopped six times during the 80 or so mile trip back home. That’s one stop every 13 miles if you are not good with the math.
First we stopped for my sister to buy a Persian basket to find that the stores that used to sell those things now sell all types of Made in China junk instead. Then we stopped a little farther along to buy fruits. Apparently these fruits are better and cheaper than the ones in Tehran, alllrighty. A bit later we stopped to get tea at this nice little tea-house in the woods. I was told we used to stop here all the time on our way to our villa but I did not remember it. The only thing that rang a bell was the fact that I was told they have horseback riding here. As a kid I remember riding the horse in a jungle somewhere and I guess this was it. A bit later we stopped at the tallest point along the way. My grandpa started the tradition of stopping here. There is a mosque at this place and even though we are Jewish, my grandpa always donated a few dollars to the mosque up here. We stopped once again to by a vase and I bought 5 mini vase looking things to use as shot-glasses. Total cost of $1. I have NO CLUE why I did not buy an even 6 though to make a complete set. DUMB move. We went a bit more and we stopped one last time and ate Persian ice-cream. It was raaather good. The trip, it took 10 hours total. That’s an average of 8mph if you are not good with the math. Yeah, I can run faster than that (obviously not for the entire 80 miles but you get the idea).
During the trip we passed by mount Damavand, the mountain my uncle climbed before he died of ALS. It was very interesting to see and brought more emotion than I thought. I feel like one day one of my cousins (or I) will climb that mountain again in his name. It’s just suuuch a rational thing to do to try to get close with him in a spiritual kind of way thing.
After I finally got home and had a moment to sit I realized how tired I was from everything that had gone on the past week or so. I started to miss home and certain people…It was really the first time in my life feeling home-sick I think but I could not help it. Vacationing in a 3rd world country, although VERY interesting because of the culture you are thrust into, is a lot of work. Overall the stress level of this country is orders of magnitude higher than in U.S. We have been constantly either doing something or going somewhere or visiting with someone this entire time and I’m close to exhausted.
(For the first time I will quote you straight from my diary and not summarize/expand. As I was writing about my day and how tired I was from everything we done I came to a reallllly weird/obvious conclusion and I want to share that word-by-word.)
“Soo tired from this trip. I feel I can’t enjoy things as much as I like to because stress here is sooooo high. Everything is fun but has stress also. During vacation to shomal I was terrified of the drive there/back and so very stressed. Then we were doing something 90% of the time. I rather relax/rest also as part of vacation. It is worrying me for my Europe trip I think I need one day of complete rest per week.”
Now if you know me you know that I am not religious AT ALL but this was a weird conclusion to come into in my exhaustion. I will continue a bit more.
“What a realization. I was nothing thinking that is the point of all religions. Religions were created during periods of really high intensity and stress life and it seems like you need at least one day of rest a week before you can continue on or you will burn out. I just wonder though if this was a top-down or bottom-up realization”
The last sentence just means I wonder if I subconsciously came to this conclusion (that you need rest once about every seven days) because of my knowledge of how religions are or really because of my fatigue. Either way it was an interesting little bit I thought I had to share from my journal.
Anywho, I will now go on two random tangents here but they are both from my journal of that day. One, I am getting exponentially better at speaking Farsi. It was REALLY tough for me to speak full Farsi here at first. Even though I grew up here for 9 years it was 12 years since I was in the country and had to speak full Farsi. It’s not as easy of a transition as it would seem because in America all the Farsi I speak is mixed in with English words when I cannot remember something. These less often used words over time completely leave my mind and now having to dig for them is both challenging and sometimes funny. For example sometimes in my search for the right word I say the right sounding word but it has an extra “r” or “d” or whatever. Since I cannot exactly remember the word I just say it and people burst in laughter because for example I add a “d” to the word talk and said tadelk. Yeah. It is a bit embarrassing but it is also funny. However, over the first week I have gotten sooooo much better at this. Another aspect of the language I have gotten better at is reading. I left here in 3rd grade and was a proficient reader but the Persian alphabet has left me a bit. I mean they have 32 letters, three “s,” two “z,” and a host of other letters not even represented in the English alphabet. To top it off, Farsi has no written vowels. So for example my name “Navid” is really written “Nvid” but that “I” can be a “EEE” sound or a “v” sound depending on the situation. So the context of the surrounding letters changes the sound. Now not having read Farsi for 12 years, I forget some letters and some context things and whenever I get bored I start reading the road signs out loud to everyone. It is a GREAT comedic show actually as I read like a R-tard.
Second rant is about the question I get asked almost daily here from anyone I meet for the first time. “Is Iran or America better?” For me it is a really simple answer, “America.” I am more comfortable there and I am more used to the way of life and the people. However, I cannot say with certainty one is better than the other. Millions of people still live here and life in Iran is so different (in terms of priorities and standard of living) that it is not fair to even compare. It’s like apples and oranges. Iran is not like other modernized European countries where the differences with America are language, tax-rate, free-market laws, weather, and some logistics that one can decide which one they like over the other. Iran is fundamentally different. I don’t know how to explain it. If you are asking me to apply modernized standards of living I am used to in America to answer this question it be like asking if an anorexic or sumo wrestler is fatter. What’s the point of asking? You know the answer. It’s a question that bothers me when I’m asked because I know they are just making small-talk but I cannot bring myself to just give them a straight answer of yes or no. I have to explain to them that there are a lot of differences in styles of life in the two countries that make the comparison really irrelevant and I feel like a dick.
-NZ
06-27-2010
Hello everyone.
Today is 07-06-2010 and about 10:45a.m. We are leaving to go have lunch with another one of my mom’s best friends from high-school and I’m sure I will not get to finish this entry before I have to leave but in these few minutes I’ll write something down and I’ll finish it when I get back.
Waking up in the villa on the June 27th reminded me all the things I loved about this place growing up. Sometimes still to this day when I am in that groggy state during waking up and happen to be in a really good mood I think for a second I’m at the villa. Today, I actually was there. It was awesome waking up to the sound of the moms making breakfast and the pots and pans being moved around and the mayhem that ensues when 9 people are in a house no bigger than 1300sqf.
Once I woke up and got my wits about me though, I realized today was going to be a bit of a challenge. For some reason the water was off and would not work. When the water does not work though you are not sure if this is a pump issue (the one we connected when we got there) or the actual water is out. So you go and ask the neighbors and hear the news. Someone around must know. After about 15minutes my aunt returned saying the water was off and from experience the neighbors suggested it would return by noon. We borrowed some water from the neighbor’s well (yes they had a well) and washed our hands and prepared breakfast. Oh the joys and issues you face in the 3rd world country.
After breakfast we went to the beach. I had spent many of days at the beaches of shomal. However there is one difference you may not immediately think of in the beaches of Iran relative to other countries, they are segregated by gender. There is a male side and a female side. Yeah, WAAAAY to ruin the beaches Iran. There is a tarp that encloses two areas of the beach. One for women, one for men. However, the water was warm, calm, clean and I really enjoyed splashing around with the son of my mom’s friend. This time the re-living of a childhood was free and very enjoyable.
When we got back, the water was back on. By now my stomach had been hurting for a few hours and I was looking forward to going to the bathroom. However by the time I was prepared, the water was off again. Going to the bathroom with no running water unless it is absolutely vital is not the best.
The saga continued and the water returned. We had water for a while and were able to make barbeque chicken for lunch. All was well except my persisting stomach pain. After lunch we all went to sleep and I woke up still not feeling better so I decided to stay back from the afternoon trip to the Jungles of northern Iran. However, not doing something in a group is not as easy as you would imagine. There is such pressure for everyone to do everything together even though the presence of a single person during an activity does not really change the activity.
Anywho, my stomach pains had grown into a minor case of diarrhea now and with the boat-loads of information I had read about traveler’s diarrhea before my trip (ok, maybe a small boat), I was ready to battle. I took a couple pills and I drank over a liter of water with a teaspoon of salt and some lemon. The biggest danger of diarrhea was dehydration and from my middle school volleyball teacher I had learned the recipe of “poor-man’s Gatorade.” Now in a 3rd world country and far away from any drinks that would replenish my lost electrolyte I turned to this concoction.
The rest of the night the water saga continued as we would have water for 15-20 minutes then not for about an hour or so. It was a fun topic of conversation and kept us scrambling to make things work. My diarrhea also subsided and I was able to eat a simple breakfast meal for dinner without having stomach pains or having to visit the bathroom.
I played 14 more games of backgammon and went 11-3 but got my butt handed to me in my attempt to play chess. I kind of want to get better at chess I think. It seems like an interesting thing to be good at. Anywho that is all really for that night.
-NZ
Today is 07-06-2010 and about 10:45a.m. We are leaving to go have lunch with another one of my mom’s best friends from high-school and I’m sure I will not get to finish this entry before I have to leave but in these few minutes I’ll write something down and I’ll finish it when I get back.
Waking up in the villa on the June 27th reminded me all the things I loved about this place growing up. Sometimes still to this day when I am in that groggy state during waking up and happen to be in a really good mood I think for a second I’m at the villa. Today, I actually was there. It was awesome waking up to the sound of the moms making breakfast and the pots and pans being moved around and the mayhem that ensues when 9 people are in a house no bigger than 1300sqf.
Once I woke up and got my wits about me though, I realized today was going to be a bit of a challenge. For some reason the water was off and would not work. When the water does not work though you are not sure if this is a pump issue (the one we connected when we got there) or the actual water is out. So you go and ask the neighbors and hear the news. Someone around must know. After about 15minutes my aunt returned saying the water was off and from experience the neighbors suggested it would return by noon. We borrowed some water from the neighbor’s well (yes they had a well) and washed our hands and prepared breakfast. Oh the joys and issues you face in the 3rd world country.
After breakfast we went to the beach. I had spent many of days at the beaches of shomal. However there is one difference you may not immediately think of in the beaches of Iran relative to other countries, they are segregated by gender. There is a male side and a female side. Yeah, WAAAAY to ruin the beaches Iran. There is a tarp that encloses two areas of the beach. One for women, one for men. However, the water was warm, calm, clean and I really enjoyed splashing around with the son of my mom’s friend. This time the re-living of a childhood was free and very enjoyable.
When we got back, the water was back on. By now my stomach had been hurting for a few hours and I was looking forward to going to the bathroom. However by the time I was prepared, the water was off again. Going to the bathroom with no running water unless it is absolutely vital is not the best.
The saga continued and the water returned. We had water for a while and were able to make barbeque chicken for lunch. All was well except my persisting stomach pain. After lunch we all went to sleep and I woke up still not feeling better so I decided to stay back from the afternoon trip to the Jungles of northern Iran. However, not doing something in a group is not as easy as you would imagine. There is such pressure for everyone to do everything together even though the presence of a single person during an activity does not really change the activity.
Anywho, my stomach pains had grown into a minor case of diarrhea now and with the boat-loads of information I had read about traveler’s diarrhea before my trip (ok, maybe a small boat), I was ready to battle. I took a couple pills and I drank over a liter of water with a teaspoon of salt and some lemon. The biggest danger of diarrhea was dehydration and from my middle school volleyball teacher I had learned the recipe of “poor-man’s Gatorade.” Now in a 3rd world country and far away from any drinks that would replenish my lost electrolyte I turned to this concoction.
The rest of the night the water saga continued as we would have water for 15-20 minutes then not for about an hour or so. It was a fun topic of conversation and kept us scrambling to make things work. My diarrhea also subsided and I was able to eat a simple breakfast meal for dinner without having stomach pains or having to visit the bathroom.
I played 14 more games of backgammon and went 11-3 but got my butt handed to me in my attempt to play chess. I kind of want to get better at chess I think. It seems like an interesting thing to be good at. Anywho that is all really for that night.
-NZ
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
06-26-2010
Today is Monday July 5, 2010. It is our last day in Shiraz and i just had lunch with my aunt, mom, and sister. They went to a gun museum but I did not go with them because I'm a bit too full with museums right now so I took the day off. I'm trying to pace myself. After-all this is the easy part of my trip. I have 6 weeks alone in europe coming up in a few days. I'm a bit nervous but I deal. I'm writing this entry as a mosque nearby is blasting the mid-day prayer. It is interesting to see how religious this country is sometimes. Anywho, not tooting my own horn but this entry is pretty interesting and entertaining also, specially if you found the last one to be such.
We woke up on the morning of the 26th and had breakfast at the hotel together. Once we set off on our way, the first sign said we were only about 55 miles from our destination. If you learn anything from this entry let it be the understanding that trips in Iran by car are not as much about gettig to the destination as trips in the US are. This 55 miles took us about 4.5 hours and was really a trip in it of itself.
We first stopped at a little town to buy a certain type of lentles only found in Iran. We were having trouble finding the bazar and the people we asked seemed to not know what we were talking about until my aunt talked to them in a slight northern iranian dialect and named the bazar by its village name. The attitude of the same person who a minute ago seemed to know nothing totally changed and he gave us directions on how to get there. My grandparents grew up in northern Iran and that is why my aunt knows their dialect a bit. I can understand my grandparents speaking it but I only know a few words to speak. It was interesting to me though that they were more willing to help us once they found out we could speak their language and were not strangers. I could go on analyzing these dialects as safety mehanisms and such but I will let it rest here.
So on our quick mission to buy this lentle we got kind of lost I guess and bought rice, sweets, and fruits on top of the lentles. We spent about an hour and half walking the bazar. Bazars are really where it's at btw. The color of the town, fresh local products, and the attitudes all come out. Just don't let them know you are foreign. No prices are marked and the owners have adopted a keen sense of sight for any foreigners and will pounce on the opportunity to rip you off. Even people from Tehran get a bit of a price-hike sometimes but lord if they find out you are from US. The 30 cents per pound cherries will suddenly cost you $1. I guess in reality that is not so bad but who likes to pay 3x the price.
After this bazar trip we were back on our way but not for long. We saw a small store with ice cream and stopped. I once again visited my childhood by buying the fancy ice-cream I had to save a week and half worth of my allowance for and a couple of gums I always chewed as a child that have tattoos on the inside. Grand total cost of this visit to childhood: 55cents. It even included awesome flashbacks to when I was 6-8 for free. Btw got the robot tattoo, scoooore!!!
After finishing our ice-creams we were again on our way, for a grand total of 10 minutes. We stopped again at another bazar and bought chicken, eggs, drinking water, and garlic. The difference between Iran an US is that this sounds like a perfectly easy trip to the grocey store in US but in Iran this is an hour trip to four stores in a bazaar. Every store sells a different combination of things. As I half jokingly told my sister, if wallmart were to ever put one store here it would destroy the entire bazaar system. But as I said earlier, bazaars are where it's at if you wanna get a flavor for the people and town.
We were again on our way but now let me paint you a picture of HOW. You see our trunk was full with stuff already from 5 people's worth of stuff and an a/c unit we were taking with us for the heat. But now we had bought a few pounds of rice, and 3-5 pounds of lentils, peaches, cherries, a 4lb bucket of blakberries, a gallon of water, two chickens, and 30 eggs, and a couple cloves of garlic for good measure. There is ZERO room for this stuff in the trunk so we stuff all these things under our feet, on our laps, and wherever we find space. Oh yeah we also bought a big watermelon and a cantelope but we did managed to squeez the watermelon in the trunk so only the cantelope joined us up-front for the journey.
Now any sane person would just continue on and finish these last few miles to the villa and relax. However you should understand our insanity by now and not expect such a rational mode of action.
We had one more stop at the local fish market a few miles outside of our town near babol. With much work we got ourselves out the car and started scavanging the fish market for our lunch that day. Since i have zero clue what these fish were called I will describe them to you. My mom bought 10 little fish about 6 inches long, and two heavy big fish about a foot and half long each. I went off and bought an entire salmon myself for $3. I only like and eat salmon as other fish have too many bones and I don't like the taste also.
We somehow managed to stuff these freshly caught and cleaned fish into the trunk, re-stock ourself with all the things that did not fit in the trunk, and set sail for the destination. After about 4.5 hours and four stops we finished the 55 mile journey.
Now when I say villa, for good reason you have an image of a beautifule expensive place with nice amenedies. But I need to remind you that if this is what you are thinking you need to think 3rd world country style. It was interesting to me how much this place had changed by staying the same. What I mean is I remembered this place as being perfect. All my fond childhood memories are from playing in the garden or sleeping in its living room or having breakfast on it's patio. There was nothing as a child I would have ver changed about this villa. Yet going back after all these years of living in America I noticed all its flaws that I had never noticed. For starters, we had to manually attach the water pump that was hidden inside the house because people had stolen it in the past (more on the water later). Then I realized how old and used the house was. Yet although not much of the house was comfortable and easy I honestly still would not change anything about it. The vacation at this house consists of working together to make things work and bringing together every meal and moments so everyone can relax. Nothing is given at this house.
Having started the water pump and turned on the gas amd the fridge, my mom fried all the fish, made a stew with the heads of the three big fish, and made some rice. The fish-head stew is honestly better than it sounds. We sat and ate together at the front porch and then slept for 2 hours under the ceiling fan inside. It was as perfect as I remembered it but missing one thig, the family friends of my mom and their kids, they were on their way and would get there at night. They always came to our villa with us and without them this would not be right at all.
Mohsen's family got to the villa at around 9pm and there car looked just like us, filled to the brim. They had done the same thing as us and bought four big fish and also discretely brought the boos and the rest of our food for the couple days.
We started drinking, eating, talking, and laughing well into the night. It was the sort of night that makes the price of your flight worth it. After 12 years we were back at the same place. Only difference was us kids were the ones drinking now. I played and won 5 of 7 games of backgammon and also won the one game of bingo I played. Although I kind of felt bad and gave away all my winnings to different people. (I had won $9)....hah
Btw, I am a backgammon champ. I would be put into my place in a few nights as those of you who follow my twitter know. But I would take a challenge from anyone out there.
Anywho, I am at the airport of Shiraz now and waiting for my fligh back to Tehran. I wish everyone has had a great 4th. I'm starting to get a bit homesick actually but I think once I start my journey in Europe I will be re-juvinated. Note for all you out there, three weeks is pretty much the time it takes to get a general sense if the culture and history of the country you are visiting. For those of you that are angry with that statement I saaaaaid geeeneeeeraaaallll.
-NZ
We woke up on the morning of the 26th and had breakfast at the hotel together. Once we set off on our way, the first sign said we were only about 55 miles from our destination. If you learn anything from this entry let it be the understanding that trips in Iran by car are not as much about gettig to the destination as trips in the US are. This 55 miles took us about 4.5 hours and was really a trip in it of itself.
We first stopped at a little town to buy a certain type of lentles only found in Iran. We were having trouble finding the bazar and the people we asked seemed to not know what we were talking about until my aunt talked to them in a slight northern iranian dialect and named the bazar by its village name. The attitude of the same person who a minute ago seemed to know nothing totally changed and he gave us directions on how to get there. My grandparents grew up in northern Iran and that is why my aunt knows their dialect a bit. I can understand my grandparents speaking it but I only know a few words to speak. It was interesting to me though that they were more willing to help us once they found out we could speak their language and were not strangers. I could go on analyzing these dialects as safety mehanisms and such but I will let it rest here.
So on our quick mission to buy this lentle we got kind of lost I guess and bought rice, sweets, and fruits on top of the lentles. We spent about an hour and half walking the bazar. Bazars are really where it's at btw. The color of the town, fresh local products, and the attitudes all come out. Just don't let them know you are foreign. No prices are marked and the owners have adopted a keen sense of sight for any foreigners and will pounce on the opportunity to rip you off. Even people from Tehran get a bit of a price-hike sometimes but lord if they find out you are from US. The 30 cents per pound cherries will suddenly cost you $1. I guess in reality that is not so bad but who likes to pay 3x the price.
After this bazar trip we were back on our way but not for long. We saw a small store with ice cream and stopped. I once again visited my childhood by buying the fancy ice-cream I had to save a week and half worth of my allowance for and a couple of gums I always chewed as a child that have tattoos on the inside. Grand total cost of this visit to childhood: 55cents. It even included awesome flashbacks to when I was 6-8 for free. Btw got the robot tattoo, scoooore!!!
After finishing our ice-creams we were again on our way, for a grand total of 10 minutes. We stopped again at another bazar and bought chicken, eggs, drinking water, and garlic. The difference between Iran an US is that this sounds like a perfectly easy trip to the grocey store in US but in Iran this is an hour trip to four stores in a bazaar. Every store sells a different combination of things. As I half jokingly told my sister, if wallmart were to ever put one store here it would destroy the entire bazaar system. But as I said earlier, bazaars are where it's at if you wanna get a flavor for the people and town.
We were again on our way but now let me paint you a picture of HOW. You see our trunk was full with stuff already from 5 people's worth of stuff and an a/c unit we were taking with us for the heat. But now we had bought a few pounds of rice, and 3-5 pounds of lentils, peaches, cherries, a 4lb bucket of blakberries, a gallon of water, two chickens, and 30 eggs, and a couple cloves of garlic for good measure. There is ZERO room for this stuff in the trunk so we stuff all these things under our feet, on our laps, and wherever we find space. Oh yeah we also bought a big watermelon and a cantelope but we did managed to squeez the watermelon in the trunk so only the cantelope joined us up-front for the journey.
Now any sane person would just continue on and finish these last few miles to the villa and relax. However you should understand our insanity by now and not expect such a rational mode of action.
We had one more stop at the local fish market a few miles outside of our town near babol. With much work we got ourselves out the car and started scavanging the fish market for our lunch that day. Since i have zero clue what these fish were called I will describe them to you. My mom bought 10 little fish about 6 inches long, and two heavy big fish about a foot and half long each. I went off and bought an entire salmon myself for $3. I only like and eat salmon as other fish have too many bones and I don't like the taste also.
We somehow managed to stuff these freshly caught and cleaned fish into the trunk, re-stock ourself with all the things that did not fit in the trunk, and set sail for the destination. After about 4.5 hours and four stops we finished the 55 mile journey.
Now when I say villa, for good reason you have an image of a beautifule expensive place with nice amenedies. But I need to remind you that if this is what you are thinking you need to think 3rd world country style. It was interesting to me how much this place had changed by staying the same. What I mean is I remembered this place as being perfect. All my fond childhood memories are from playing in the garden or sleeping in its living room or having breakfast on it's patio. There was nothing as a child I would have ver changed about this villa. Yet going back after all these years of living in America I noticed all its flaws that I had never noticed. For starters, we had to manually attach the water pump that was hidden inside the house because people had stolen it in the past (more on the water later). Then I realized how old and used the house was. Yet although not much of the house was comfortable and easy I honestly still would not change anything about it. The vacation at this house consists of working together to make things work and bringing together every meal and moments so everyone can relax. Nothing is given at this house.
Having started the water pump and turned on the gas amd the fridge, my mom fried all the fish, made a stew with the heads of the three big fish, and made some rice. The fish-head stew is honestly better than it sounds. We sat and ate together at the front porch and then slept for 2 hours under the ceiling fan inside. It was as perfect as I remembered it but missing one thig, the family friends of my mom and their kids, they were on their way and would get there at night. They always came to our villa with us and without them this would not be right at all.
Mohsen's family got to the villa at around 9pm and there car looked just like us, filled to the brim. They had done the same thing as us and bought four big fish and also discretely brought the boos and the rest of our food for the couple days.
We started drinking, eating, talking, and laughing well into the night. It was the sort of night that makes the price of your flight worth it. After 12 years we were back at the same place. Only difference was us kids were the ones drinking now. I played and won 5 of 7 games of backgammon and also won the one game of bingo I played. Although I kind of felt bad and gave away all my winnings to different people. (I had won $9)....hah
Btw, I am a backgammon champ. I would be put into my place in a few nights as those of you who follow my twitter know. But I would take a challenge from anyone out there.
Anywho, I am at the airport of Shiraz now and waiting for my fligh back to Tehran. I wish everyone has had a great 4th. I'm starting to get a bit homesick actually but I think once I start my journey in Europe I will be re-juvinated. Note for all you out there, three weeks is pretty much the time it takes to get a general sense if the culture and history of the country you are visiting. For those of you that are angry with that statement I saaaaaid geeeneeeeraaaallll.
-NZ
Monday, July 5, 2010
06-25-2010
Today is Monday July 5, 2010. It is our last day in Shiraz and my aunt, mom, and sister have gone out but I needed a break from all the siteseeing so I am sittig in the lobby of our hotel and just enjoying the music and catching up with this journal. There is a little fountain and comfortable chair and I am a bit overstimulated. Btw, this a very good entry, I promise. So read on.
At 9:30 on June 25th we left for shomal, northern Iran, with my uncle's car. We were going to visit family in the town of sorri and then drive the 2 hours to our villa in northern Iran. I had gone to this villa ever since I can remember an have most of my childhood memories from here.
The distance was about 160 miles and I imagined even with the driving speed and style of Iran the trip should not take more than 4 hours. That would mean 40mph average speed. This seemed reasonable, but I was completely off. We got there at 5:30pm!!! It took us 8 hours to go the 160 miles. Only 20mph. I coulda biked there faster. But the trip would not have been as memorable this way and the coming story will try to recap our journey.
About an hour into our trip, my uncle's car suddenly turned off while driving and would not start again. The danger was magnified by the fact that the "shoulder" in this highway was only about a feet wide at most, we were no where near the shoulder, we were stopped a few hundred feet after a totally blind corner, and not to forget these were drivers of Iran who have little to zero regard for all road rules and signs.
(sidenote: my sister has an interesting theory I buy into a bit about the reason for the absolutely reckless driving. Although she agrees that population is a factor, simply too many people on the road and therefore traditional driving rules do not work, she thinks a better explanation is that the people totally disregard authority and the government here in Iran. Driving rules and signs posted by the roads are just an extension of authority by the government and people just disregard them.)
Anywhoooo, back to my story. So we are sitting there in the middle of the road, after a blind corner, and cars are coming at us at around 60mph and honking madly at us like we are sitting there by choice to relax. After a second car misses us by only inches I finally get out and jump the barrier and stand on the side of the road. I'm not about to get pummled by a car not paying attention. After a couple more minutes everyone gets out and joins me. We decide the best thing to do is to push the car to the side of the road. So me, my uncle, and my sister push while my mom steers the car towards the shoulder and further away from the blind corner. We then call the Iranian equvalent of AAA, called Emdad Khodro, and to our surprise a car pulls up in about a minute with three people shoved in a little van. One of the three was a boy that could not be more than 10. I asked my mom and she said the kid is just ridig along with his dad since it wa summer. (this is not America, there are no regulations here). To our dissapointment we found out that they are just highway patrol and cannot fix the car but they set up cones for us and one of them stood in the middle of street halfhaserdly waving a red flag in the blistering heat as warning for the upcoming cars. We felt a bit more safe and kept waiting for emdad khodro. They had said 30 minutes max and after 45 we called to have them tell us the truck is just on the way. Minutes, and hundreds of honking cars, later (seriously did these cars think we were there by some choice?), a car pulled up and started to take pictures of our car, the highway patrol truck, the cone job, and the now furiously waving flag-man. We soon learned he was their boss and I guess the pictures were a proof of the patrol at work. I mean they did a pretty good job I guess but after the photo-op was complete they packed the cones up and left. The documentation of the job seemed to be the job itself.
Stranded again by our self we stood another 45 minutes, and a plethora of excuses as we called the service, until the emdad khodro vehicle finally arrived. The guy, accompanied by his friend ridig along, changed a part in couple of minutes from his stock and the car started. They were about to be on there way when I suggested we turn off the car and try again. They did not like that much and for good reason, the car did not start again. If I've learned one thing from science is that the first time is always an accident and until you can do it again you have not done anything.
The guy tried tens of other buttons and fuses and knobs with no luck. He finally found a loose knob and the car started, multiple times. Two hours after being stranded on the side of the road, having to push our car to safety, we were back on our way. Five people, 100 degree weather, stuffed in a compact car. If you know my 93 carolla, baby-jet, the car was about that size at best.
I figured we were no more than another 2 hours away. Boy was I wrong. After about 45 minutes we decided to have lunch at a restaurant. Next to the restaurant was a small store with plastic soccer balls just like the ones I used to play with as a kid hanging outside. With a beaming smile and an open wallet I bought two, for 60 cents :). Reliving any childhood memory is veeeery doable here and usually costs about $1. The reason for two btw is that since they are plastic and not very hard you cut one open and shove the other one in. You make a double layer ball so it's harder and better to play with. The balls were muuuuch smaller than I remember but then again I'm muuuuch bigger.
After a pretty good lunch at this small persian food restaurant, which took up another hour we were on the way. Surely we were going to get to our destination in about an hour. Boy was I wrong again. We first stopped for gas. Not a big deal. Then after about 15 minutes, being only 25 miles away from our destination my uncle was falling asleep driving so we pulled over to the side of the road and he had some watermelon and he took a 20minute nap. It was decent break for us too since my uncle drives just like the rest of Iranians. Although the scenery was beautiful, we were too scared for our lives most of the time to enjoy the scene. Let me give you a couple of examples. Firstly the road had 3 lanes for part of the way one goin and two coming. However, the one lane going felt that they deserved one of the two lanes coming and cars repeatedly passed, during no passing zones, using one of the two lanes coming. At other tines cars seriously used this other lane to drive in as an extra lane and honked at incoming cars to use their outside lane since there was less traffic. I withheld my screams of terror many times but my sister and mom had a few shreaks as we nearly missed a few cars and rounded corners over twice the speed limit. My uncle was just laughing at our terror and would tell us to relax it's all good. How anyone doesn't have a hernia driving in Iran everytime they sit behind the wheel is beyond me.
Anywho, having woken up from his twenty minute nap, we were back on the road to finish the last 30 or so minutes or 25miles. Now if you are keeping count in your head you ar wondering how 6:30 hours overall becomes 8 by the time we get there if we are only 25 miles away. Well you would assume the final 25miles would be without trouble. With about 1 mile to go the car broke down again. If this was a movie or if I had not lived it myself I would not believe this. But it happened. EVERYTHING on this blog is real. I promise.
To our luck this time we broke down at the side of a residential road and came to a stop at a safe place. With another call to emdad khodro we waited out their arrival. Couple owners from the restaurant across the street which was closed saw us and came over trying to help. They played with some buttons and knobs, just like the emdad khodro "specialist" did last time, to no luck. They offered up their bathroom and tea for us while we waited. (sidenote: the people of this country are kind beyond belief. It is so amazing to see people come to help and offer a hand and all they can to one another. Even when we were stranded the first time at the beginning of the trip a few random cars would slow down once thy realized we had broken down and ask if we needed help. People share their struggles together here it seems an try to aid one another if possible and I love that.)
Baaaaack to our 160mile journy. Having completed 159 miles and waiting for emdad khodro me, my aunt, my mom, and my sister decided to walk the rest of the way to my grandpa's sister's house while my uncle waited. The few people we asked on our way kept saying it is "right there" a bit down but we kept going and not getting there. We didn't actually know how far away we were but after about 35 minutes we got there. We walked from a normal street to dirt road and in the heart of this little town. It was as cliche as you would like to think. It was a hut, in the middle of a third world country.
After 8 hours we arrived at this hut of two old couple. We washed our hands and face in the yard at a little faucette. There was no furniture in this house. Just a little tv turned onto the world cup and Persian rugs covering the floor like capreting. But it was relaxing and fun to see. There was a simpleness and distance from what I consider the real world was calming.
My grandpa's sister told us crazy stories of her life. It reminded me of how little rights women of Iran have in decision making. It's crazy how "women's rights" groups fight tooth and nail over such petty things in America while many women in Iran have little rights. On top of lacking in equal legal rights women here are socially inferior also. But hey someone gotta fight for the word fireman and policeman in America and try to end the masculine connotations our vocabulary is littered with. Oh yeaaaah. What's fight ladies (not)...only if those activists would help women of other countries that actually have no rights and realize all the advances they have made in there own countries and use their rights to try to bridge this gap in other countries.
Anywho, enough of that. My great-aunt could barely walk but she brought us tea and sweets and had made us a simple dinner of rice, tomatoes, and chicken. It was simple but delicious.
After dinner we drove over to a hotel because it was too late now and the car was too unreliable to drive over to the villa. The injector seemed to be broken. The hotel was called hotel Navid and as you can imagine it was just excuisite. Haha. But seriously, it was nice.
There is even a story to getting a hotel room here in Iran though. You see, unlike the normal world where you can just get rooms, here only three types of groups can share a room. A man with another man. A husband and wife. A family like me, my mom, my sister. A man an women who are not related or married cannot share a room. Keep in mind though you need to proooooooove these relations. We had no such proof with us so me and my uncle had to share a room and my mom, sister, and aunt shared the other room. If you have actually taken the time to read this far, take a moment to think about the repercussion of such a law. Only people of the same sex can share a room unless they provide proof that they are related or married by bringing a birthcirtifate or passport with them in their vacations. Yeah. Cool (not).
That is all for that day. I'm pretty tired from writing so I am going to take a little break. Go back upstairs to my room and maybe make another entry in a bit.
Hope you enjoyed this. I'm sorry I'm not more caught up but as I've said I a. Less control over my life here than I would like.
NZ
At 9:30 on June 25th we left for shomal, northern Iran, with my uncle's car. We were going to visit family in the town of sorri and then drive the 2 hours to our villa in northern Iran. I had gone to this villa ever since I can remember an have most of my childhood memories from here.
The distance was about 160 miles and I imagined even with the driving speed and style of Iran the trip should not take more than 4 hours. That would mean 40mph average speed. This seemed reasonable, but I was completely off. We got there at 5:30pm!!! It took us 8 hours to go the 160 miles. Only 20mph. I coulda biked there faster. But the trip would not have been as memorable this way and the coming story will try to recap our journey.
About an hour into our trip, my uncle's car suddenly turned off while driving and would not start again. The danger was magnified by the fact that the "shoulder" in this highway was only about a feet wide at most, we were no where near the shoulder, we were stopped a few hundred feet after a totally blind corner, and not to forget these were drivers of Iran who have little to zero regard for all road rules and signs.
(sidenote: my sister has an interesting theory I buy into a bit about the reason for the absolutely reckless driving. Although she agrees that population is a factor, simply too many people on the road and therefore traditional driving rules do not work, she thinks a better explanation is that the people totally disregard authority and the government here in Iran. Driving rules and signs posted by the roads are just an extension of authority by the government and people just disregard them.)
Anywhoooo, back to my story. So we are sitting there in the middle of the road, after a blind corner, and cars are coming at us at around 60mph and honking madly at us like we are sitting there by choice to relax. After a second car misses us by only inches I finally get out and jump the barrier and stand on the side of the road. I'm not about to get pummled by a car not paying attention. After a couple more minutes everyone gets out and joins me. We decide the best thing to do is to push the car to the side of the road. So me, my uncle, and my sister push while my mom steers the car towards the shoulder and further away from the blind corner. We then call the Iranian equvalent of AAA, called Emdad Khodro, and to our surprise a car pulls up in about a minute with three people shoved in a little van. One of the three was a boy that could not be more than 10. I asked my mom and she said the kid is just ridig along with his dad since it wa summer. (this is not America, there are no regulations here). To our dissapointment we found out that they are just highway patrol and cannot fix the car but they set up cones for us and one of them stood in the middle of street halfhaserdly waving a red flag in the blistering heat as warning for the upcoming cars. We felt a bit more safe and kept waiting for emdad khodro. They had said 30 minutes max and after 45 we called to have them tell us the truck is just on the way. Minutes, and hundreds of honking cars, later (seriously did these cars think we were there by some choice?), a car pulled up and started to take pictures of our car, the highway patrol truck, the cone job, and the now furiously waving flag-man. We soon learned he was their boss and I guess the pictures were a proof of the patrol at work. I mean they did a pretty good job I guess but after the photo-op was complete they packed the cones up and left. The documentation of the job seemed to be the job itself.
Stranded again by our self we stood another 45 minutes, and a plethora of excuses as we called the service, until the emdad khodro vehicle finally arrived. The guy, accompanied by his friend ridig along, changed a part in couple of minutes from his stock and the car started. They were about to be on there way when I suggested we turn off the car and try again. They did not like that much and for good reason, the car did not start again. If I've learned one thing from science is that the first time is always an accident and until you can do it again you have not done anything.
The guy tried tens of other buttons and fuses and knobs with no luck. He finally found a loose knob and the car started, multiple times. Two hours after being stranded on the side of the road, having to push our car to safety, we were back on our way. Five people, 100 degree weather, stuffed in a compact car. If you know my 93 carolla, baby-jet, the car was about that size at best.
I figured we were no more than another 2 hours away. Boy was I wrong. After about 45 minutes we decided to have lunch at a restaurant. Next to the restaurant was a small store with plastic soccer balls just like the ones I used to play with as a kid hanging outside. With a beaming smile and an open wallet I bought two, for 60 cents :). Reliving any childhood memory is veeeery doable here and usually costs about $1. The reason for two btw is that since they are plastic and not very hard you cut one open and shove the other one in. You make a double layer ball so it's harder and better to play with. The balls were muuuuch smaller than I remember but then again I'm muuuuch bigger.
After a pretty good lunch at this small persian food restaurant, which took up another hour we were on the way. Surely we were going to get to our destination in about an hour. Boy was I wrong again. We first stopped for gas. Not a big deal. Then after about 15 minutes, being only 25 miles away from our destination my uncle was falling asleep driving so we pulled over to the side of the road and he had some watermelon and he took a 20minute nap. It was decent break for us too since my uncle drives just like the rest of Iranians. Although the scenery was beautiful, we were too scared for our lives most of the time to enjoy the scene. Let me give you a couple of examples. Firstly the road had 3 lanes for part of the way one goin and two coming. However, the one lane going felt that they deserved one of the two lanes coming and cars repeatedly passed, during no passing zones, using one of the two lanes coming. At other tines cars seriously used this other lane to drive in as an extra lane and honked at incoming cars to use their outside lane since there was less traffic. I withheld my screams of terror many times but my sister and mom had a few shreaks as we nearly missed a few cars and rounded corners over twice the speed limit. My uncle was just laughing at our terror and would tell us to relax it's all good. How anyone doesn't have a hernia driving in Iran everytime they sit behind the wheel is beyond me.
Anywho, having woken up from his twenty minute nap, we were back on the road to finish the last 30 or so minutes or 25miles. Now if you are keeping count in your head you ar wondering how 6:30 hours overall becomes 8 by the time we get there if we are only 25 miles away. Well you would assume the final 25miles would be without trouble. With about 1 mile to go the car broke down again. If this was a movie or if I had not lived it myself I would not believe this. But it happened. EVERYTHING on this blog is real. I promise.
To our luck this time we broke down at the side of a residential road and came to a stop at a safe place. With another call to emdad khodro we waited out their arrival. Couple owners from the restaurant across the street which was closed saw us and came over trying to help. They played with some buttons and knobs, just like the emdad khodro "specialist" did last time, to no luck. They offered up their bathroom and tea for us while we waited. (sidenote: the people of this country are kind beyond belief. It is so amazing to see people come to help and offer a hand and all they can to one another. Even when we were stranded the first time at the beginning of the trip a few random cars would slow down once thy realized we had broken down and ask if we needed help. People share their struggles together here it seems an try to aid one another if possible and I love that.)
Baaaaack to our 160mile journy. Having completed 159 miles and waiting for emdad khodro me, my aunt, my mom, and my sister decided to walk the rest of the way to my grandpa's sister's house while my uncle waited. The few people we asked on our way kept saying it is "right there" a bit down but we kept going and not getting there. We didn't actually know how far away we were but after about 35 minutes we got there. We walked from a normal street to dirt road and in the heart of this little town. It was as cliche as you would like to think. It was a hut, in the middle of a third world country.
After 8 hours we arrived at this hut of two old couple. We washed our hands and face in the yard at a little faucette. There was no furniture in this house. Just a little tv turned onto the world cup and Persian rugs covering the floor like capreting. But it was relaxing and fun to see. There was a simpleness and distance from what I consider the real world was calming.
My grandpa's sister told us crazy stories of her life. It reminded me of how little rights women of Iran have in decision making. It's crazy how "women's rights" groups fight tooth and nail over such petty things in America while many women in Iran have little rights. On top of lacking in equal legal rights women here are socially inferior also. But hey someone gotta fight for the word fireman and policeman in America and try to end the masculine connotations our vocabulary is littered with. Oh yeaaaah. What's fight ladies (not)...only if those activists would help women of other countries that actually have no rights and realize all the advances they have made in there own countries and use their rights to try to bridge this gap in other countries.
Anywho, enough of that. My great-aunt could barely walk but she brought us tea and sweets and had made us a simple dinner of rice, tomatoes, and chicken. It was simple but delicious.
After dinner we drove over to a hotel because it was too late now and the car was too unreliable to drive over to the villa. The injector seemed to be broken. The hotel was called hotel Navid and as you can imagine it was just excuisite. Haha. But seriously, it was nice.
There is even a story to getting a hotel room here in Iran though. You see, unlike the normal world where you can just get rooms, here only three types of groups can share a room. A man with another man. A husband and wife. A family like me, my mom, my sister. A man an women who are not related or married cannot share a room. Keep in mind though you need to proooooooove these relations. We had no such proof with us so me and my uncle had to share a room and my mom, sister, and aunt shared the other room. If you have actually taken the time to read this far, take a moment to think about the repercussion of such a law. Only people of the same sex can share a room unless they provide proof that they are related or married by bringing a birthcirtifate or passport with them in their vacations. Yeah. Cool (not).
That is all for that day. I'm pretty tired from writing so I am going to take a little break. Go back upstairs to my room and maybe make another entry in a bit.
Hope you enjoyed this. I'm sorry I'm not more caught up but as I've said I a. Less control over my life here than I would like.
NZ
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