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
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
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
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
06-24-2010
Hello everyone. Today is 06-30-2010 and about 9:00a.m. We are leaving at about 11a.m to go to Esfehan and Shiraz for a week so I decided to write one more entry before leaving. I don’t know if I’ll get to write from there but if not I will definitely write much more when I get back.
Thursday June 24th was really the first day we were here in Iran as the night before was the first time we had slept. It was to say the least a LONG day. But I’ve learned that with the schedule planned out for us three over these weeks every day is JAMMED packed. I feel like I am learning a bit about how much I can do in Europe in a single day. There are essentially two blocks of time throughout the day it seems so you can do two things a day AT MOST. I probably will need to do one thing a day occasionally in Europe and make that “second” thing rest.
Anywho, the day started with the same breakfast as yesterday and really everyday here in Iran. A simple but delicious breakfast of FRESH bread, milk, cheese, honey, and various jams (strawberry today). Now when I say jam it is not some store-bought, packaged, jam. EVERY time I say jam it is home-made jam cooked with TWO ingredients: fresh fruit, and sugar. And when I say fresh fruit I mean hand-picked from a near-by farm a few days ago so if it is not in season you are out of luck. E.g. oranges only come in beginning of winter, strawberries only in summer, and ect. A side-note on strawberries, they are WAAAAY smaller than the ones in America. Apparently that is the real size I hear but I’ve never seen strawberries this small. They are about twice the size of American blackberries but taste delicious. The same amount of sugar that the plant makes and puts in the strawberry is spread out over a much smaller fruit. YUM.
Anywho, after breakfast, the daughter of our family friend took us to the museum of Iranian art. The entrance fee? 50 cents each. Yeah. I feel riiich here. At first I was soo tired and a bit reluctant to go but didn’t say anything and went. I was soo tired from the travel and the lack of sleep but I didn’t want to miss out on this. I’m glad I went though. There were many ceramic bowls and cups and utensils from various periods of the Persian empire. Some dated back to 5,000B.C. I think it is cool that Iran has some sort of history. As much as America can try, we are 300 years old at best. Yes, I realized here that I’m really an American with Iranian influences. Like an artist with a dead mother or something. He/she is affected by that past and I with mine, but he/she is still an artist and I am still an American. (cue team America song: America, FUCK YEAH!!).
Anywho, back to the museum of Iranian art. Outside of little ceramic bowls and the things you can imagine easily needed throughout one day, there were a few GIANT ceramic bowls. I mean bowls that would fit two of me. Ceramic bowls made 7,000 years ago that are that large. Without machines I cannot fathom how they made such a thing. Now you may ask why would they need such a big bowl? Well start thinking about all the issues a society may have had that long ago. There was no plumbing and this bowl was probably used as a storage compartment for water. Another possible use is for storing grain after harvest. The uses are endless.
The upstairs of this museum was a VERY interesting exhibit devoted to works of women. I was pleasantly surprised at the space and detail given to works of women. A lot of the works were sculptures made to represent and bring luck to fertility. There was also a mural spanning an entire wall, about 20ft. by 30 ft., that depicted many different scenes of war. It was my first time seeing a mural in person and actually paying attention to the detail. It was pretty rad.
From there we walked to the museum of Iranian glassware. It was about a 15 minute walk and I learned a few things about walking in the streets of Tehran. First, ALWAYS walk in the shade when you can. At first I was strolling along in the middle of the sidewalk because it was not that hot and there was a nice cool breeze but suddenly I realized I am burning. The sun is always direct and hot and everyone walks in even the tiniest amounts of shade a building or tree provides. It is really a cool thing to see actually and took me a bit to notice but most of the sidewalk will be pretty close to empty, except an occasional scooter going by, and everyone will be walking hugging the few feet shaded by the buildings. It makes for interesting time passing an on-coming person as they also try to remain in the shade so two people will pass within inches of each other when the rest of the sidewalk is empty. The second lesson I learned is always look where you are walking and point out to your group various holes and cracks and listen out for warnings. Walking the sidewalks is like walking a mine-field. There will be an occasional stack of blocks right in the middle or a pot-hole.
Anyway, the entrance fee to the glassware museum was again 50 cents and we went in and looked at some really cool glassware. From tiny glassware used to hold make-up, perfume, and ink for writing to larger glassware made for eating, drinking, decorative and so on. The entire museum was set in a palace and it was cool actually seeing how a person used to live here. You could tell what the various rooms were, but I wish it had writing of what they actually were. There is something neat about seeing old pieces of art in an old building it may have been used in not as art but as functional pieces.
After the museum we went over to my mom’s friend’s place for lunch. The 25 minute cab ride there cost $1.50. Taxi’s here FTW. I paid the guy $2 and my mom flipped a gasket until I made her realize it was 50 cents extra and it really doesn’t matter to us but for him it is pretty significant. The lunch we had was simple as we had not really made plans to go there but it was AMAZING as it was the first time in 12 years we all had sat together. The only person missing from the table was my dad and for one of the first times in my life his absence was missed. After lunch the perfect lunch was capped off by watching video of Pega’s (My mom’s friend’s daughter who took us to the museums) first birthday no 20 years later. The video was choppy and starting to fade but for the first time it made me realize that the annoying times my dad and uncles spent video-tapping us will actually come to good use. As annoying as it may be I will probably have to video-tape my kids also and be one of those dads because watching and laughing with the same people as in the video now 20 years later is pretty neat.
After lunch we came home and another one of my mom’s friends visited us. She is a real-estate broker and she told me stories of how some people here have SERIOUS money. She made me realize that the gap between rich and poor is FAR FAR FAR wider in Iran than America.
At night we went to an extravagant wedding of a second cousin. But the relations here don’t actually reflect closeness as a lot of people grow up next to each other or often in each other’s houses so second and third cousins sometimes are much more closer than you may think. The wedding was beautiful and so was the 17 year old bride. The tables were full of fruits and pastries and pistachios and cashews. The wedding “started” at 7p.m on paper but we got there at 8:30p.m and were one of the first to arrive and the guests didn’t really roll in until 10p.m with the bride coming around that time also. The concept of time, and on-time, is a lot different here.
The live band played many Iranian songs and amidst the repetitive “3, 2, 1” countdowns and “put your hands up” (both of which don’t sound that funny until you hear them in Farsi) me, my sister, my mom, and my aunt danced for a few minutes together. It was fun. The bride and groom had a 15minute feature film of their love-story set to songs including 50 cents “candy shop.” Yeah, I’m PRETTTTTY sure they either didn’t know what 50 meant in the song when he said “I’ll take you to the candy shop.” Oh well.
Around 11:20p.m the wedding was over and they gave dinner. Because there were not enough tables, there, as more people usually end up showing up to weddings than are actually invited, parents had sent kids to get tables. Many kids were vocal that these tables were taken and one kid, no more than 10, was protecting two tables aggressively. We came by one table with a kid no more than 5 and sat down. He didn’t really say anything but after we all sat down he ran off. You could tell he was told to protect that table and he had failed. He would OBVIOUSLY be yelled at for not being able to hold the table but that is the way it goes I guess. Such a thing makes the 10 year old protect the table so much more aggressively. The kid learns.
Throughout the night a number of people, most of whom I didn’t recognize came by and said hello and told me stories of me being a little kid. I have NO CLUE how they remember so many people and so vividly. Iranians seem to be the master of public relations. They either know exactly who you are or know who to ask before coming to see you so they seem to know exactly who you are. It is really interesting to see.
We finally got home around 2a.m from the wedding and I EXHAUSTINGLY went to asleep.
Note to self for Europe vacation: MAKE SURE TO NOT DO TOO MUCH EVERY DAY. I will burn out.
-NZ
Thursday June 24th was really the first day we were here in Iran as the night before was the first time we had slept. It was to say the least a LONG day. But I’ve learned that with the schedule planned out for us three over these weeks every day is JAMMED packed. I feel like I am learning a bit about how much I can do in Europe in a single day. There are essentially two blocks of time throughout the day it seems so you can do two things a day AT MOST. I probably will need to do one thing a day occasionally in Europe and make that “second” thing rest.
Anywho, the day started with the same breakfast as yesterday and really everyday here in Iran. A simple but delicious breakfast of FRESH bread, milk, cheese, honey, and various jams (strawberry today). Now when I say jam it is not some store-bought, packaged, jam. EVERY time I say jam it is home-made jam cooked with TWO ingredients: fresh fruit, and sugar. And when I say fresh fruit I mean hand-picked from a near-by farm a few days ago so if it is not in season you are out of luck. E.g. oranges only come in beginning of winter, strawberries only in summer, and ect. A side-note on strawberries, they are WAAAAY smaller than the ones in America. Apparently that is the real size I hear but I’ve never seen strawberries this small. They are about twice the size of American blackberries but taste delicious. The same amount of sugar that the plant makes and puts in the strawberry is spread out over a much smaller fruit. YUM.
Anywho, after breakfast, the daughter of our family friend took us to the museum of Iranian art. The entrance fee? 50 cents each. Yeah. I feel riiich here. At first I was soo tired and a bit reluctant to go but didn’t say anything and went. I was soo tired from the travel and the lack of sleep but I didn’t want to miss out on this. I’m glad I went though. There were many ceramic bowls and cups and utensils from various periods of the Persian empire. Some dated back to 5,000B.C. I think it is cool that Iran has some sort of history. As much as America can try, we are 300 years old at best. Yes, I realized here that I’m really an American with Iranian influences. Like an artist with a dead mother or something. He/she is affected by that past and I with mine, but he/she is still an artist and I am still an American. (cue team America song: America, FUCK YEAH!!).
Anywho, back to the museum of Iranian art. Outside of little ceramic bowls and the things you can imagine easily needed throughout one day, there were a few GIANT ceramic bowls. I mean bowls that would fit two of me. Ceramic bowls made 7,000 years ago that are that large. Without machines I cannot fathom how they made such a thing. Now you may ask why would they need such a big bowl? Well start thinking about all the issues a society may have had that long ago. There was no plumbing and this bowl was probably used as a storage compartment for water. Another possible use is for storing grain after harvest. The uses are endless.
The upstairs of this museum was a VERY interesting exhibit devoted to works of women. I was pleasantly surprised at the space and detail given to works of women. A lot of the works were sculptures made to represent and bring luck to fertility. There was also a mural spanning an entire wall, about 20ft. by 30 ft., that depicted many different scenes of war. It was my first time seeing a mural in person and actually paying attention to the detail. It was pretty rad.
From there we walked to the museum of Iranian glassware. It was about a 15 minute walk and I learned a few things about walking in the streets of Tehran. First, ALWAYS walk in the shade when you can. At first I was strolling along in the middle of the sidewalk because it was not that hot and there was a nice cool breeze but suddenly I realized I am burning. The sun is always direct and hot and everyone walks in even the tiniest amounts of shade a building or tree provides. It is really a cool thing to see actually and took me a bit to notice but most of the sidewalk will be pretty close to empty, except an occasional scooter going by, and everyone will be walking hugging the few feet shaded by the buildings. It makes for interesting time passing an on-coming person as they also try to remain in the shade so two people will pass within inches of each other when the rest of the sidewalk is empty. The second lesson I learned is always look where you are walking and point out to your group various holes and cracks and listen out for warnings. Walking the sidewalks is like walking a mine-field. There will be an occasional stack of blocks right in the middle or a pot-hole.
Anyway, the entrance fee to the glassware museum was again 50 cents and we went in and looked at some really cool glassware. From tiny glassware used to hold make-up, perfume, and ink for writing to larger glassware made for eating, drinking, decorative and so on. The entire museum was set in a palace and it was cool actually seeing how a person used to live here. You could tell what the various rooms were, but I wish it had writing of what they actually were. There is something neat about seeing old pieces of art in an old building it may have been used in not as art but as functional pieces.
After the museum we went over to my mom’s friend’s place for lunch. The 25 minute cab ride there cost $1.50. Taxi’s here FTW. I paid the guy $2 and my mom flipped a gasket until I made her realize it was 50 cents extra and it really doesn’t matter to us but for him it is pretty significant. The lunch we had was simple as we had not really made plans to go there but it was AMAZING as it was the first time in 12 years we all had sat together. The only person missing from the table was my dad and for one of the first times in my life his absence was missed. After lunch the perfect lunch was capped off by watching video of Pega’s (My mom’s friend’s daughter who took us to the museums) first birthday no 20 years later. The video was choppy and starting to fade but for the first time it made me realize that the annoying times my dad and uncles spent video-tapping us will actually come to good use. As annoying as it may be I will probably have to video-tape my kids also and be one of those dads because watching and laughing with the same people as in the video now 20 years later is pretty neat.
After lunch we came home and another one of my mom’s friends visited us. She is a real-estate broker and she told me stories of how some people here have SERIOUS money. She made me realize that the gap between rich and poor is FAR FAR FAR wider in Iran than America.
At night we went to an extravagant wedding of a second cousin. But the relations here don’t actually reflect closeness as a lot of people grow up next to each other or often in each other’s houses so second and third cousins sometimes are much more closer than you may think. The wedding was beautiful and so was the 17 year old bride. The tables were full of fruits and pastries and pistachios and cashews. The wedding “started” at 7p.m on paper but we got there at 8:30p.m and were one of the first to arrive and the guests didn’t really roll in until 10p.m with the bride coming around that time also. The concept of time, and on-time, is a lot different here.
The live band played many Iranian songs and amidst the repetitive “3, 2, 1” countdowns and “put your hands up” (both of which don’t sound that funny until you hear them in Farsi) me, my sister, my mom, and my aunt danced for a few minutes together. It was fun. The bride and groom had a 15minute feature film of their love-story set to songs including 50 cents “candy shop.” Yeah, I’m PRETTTTTY sure they either didn’t know what 50 meant in the song when he said “I’ll take you to the candy shop.” Oh well.
Around 11:20p.m the wedding was over and they gave dinner. Because there were not enough tables, there, as more people usually end up showing up to weddings than are actually invited, parents had sent kids to get tables. Many kids were vocal that these tables were taken and one kid, no more than 10, was protecting two tables aggressively. We came by one table with a kid no more than 5 and sat down. He didn’t really say anything but after we all sat down he ran off. You could tell he was told to protect that table and he had failed. He would OBVIOUSLY be yelled at for not being able to hold the table but that is the way it goes I guess. Such a thing makes the 10 year old protect the table so much more aggressively. The kid learns.
Throughout the night a number of people, most of whom I didn’t recognize came by and said hello and told me stories of me being a little kid. I have NO CLUE how they remember so many people and so vividly. Iranians seem to be the master of public relations. They either know exactly who you are or know who to ask before coming to see you so they seem to know exactly who you are. It is really interesting to see.
We finally got home around 2a.m from the wedding and I EXHAUSTINGLY went to asleep.
Note to self for Europe vacation: MAKE SURE TO NOT DO TOO MUCH EVERY DAY. I will burn out.
-NZ
06-21-2010 to 06-23-2010
Hey everyone. This is the second entry I’m making on 06-29-2010 starting about 2p.m and is about my trip from America to Iran on 06-21-2010 to 06-23-2010, yes it took three days.
My journal entries are bullet points I have made about my day’s experiences as I learned immediately if I were to write the entire story every time I would need many hours each night, many journals, and would likely give up. However I will turn these bullet-points into stories here.
Our (Me, my sister Narges, and my mom Fariba) trip to Iran started at about 10:15a.m on Monday the 21st when the shuttle driver came to drive us from Campbell to SFO. I was exhausted as I had stayed up the ENTIRE night the previous night to finish packing and making sure I will not forget anything. Also I was just trying to be as tired as possible for the flight so I can sleep the entire way.
We got to SFO at around 11:30, I slept the entire way, and we waited in line for about an hour to check-in our bags and check into our flights. The line for on-line checked-in people was about 1/10th as long. My mom and sister had ignored e-mails suggesting on-line check-in. I don’t understand why, but I think it’s interesting even though on-line check-in exists, and reminders are sent, so many people just ignore the convenience. We waited in the security line with excitement and got through without a problem. SFO is a madness and the attendants seem rude and forceful to get things done and you through as soon as possible (this was to become evident only later). Anywho, it was still two hours before our flight to Frankfurt but with such a trip you cannot risk being late. We had lunch at the café there and I watched a world-cup match. I don’t remember which one it was since I was so tired.
Once we boarded our plane, Lufthansa was the carrier, I realized how lucky I had gotten. We got one of the first rows in the economy class and there was no seat in front of me so I had essentially a first class seat. There was ample leg-room and that made the trip a lot better. I had a carry-on back-pack, REI-Flash 16 pack, to carry some stuff onto the plane. Although I was wearing shorts for the flight, in the back-pack I had a pair of pants because in Iran you cannot wear shorts in public. True story. I also had my Europe guidebooks (Lets-go Europe 2010 and Rough-guide to first time in Europe), my iPod-touch (which I learned after 10 minutes into the flight I had not charged), contact solution (the flight is 12 hours and I was planning on sleeping most of the time), a jacket (I ended up using for taking a nap), and my wallet and passports.
I spent the entire 12 hour flight to Germany asleep or reading my Rough-guide book or eating. The flight-attendants continually roamed the halls bringing food and snacks and drinks. I had myself three or four drinks, not including the two glasses of wine with dinner, throughout the flight. It was all “free” (if you don’t count the ticket price). I ended up reading about 190 pages during this time and slept the rest. I was not interested in any of the movies playing and I wanted to prepare for my trip throughout Europe after these few weeks in Iran. It was an interesting choice reading this book on the flight out as most of the book was about the things to bring with yourself and things to do to prepare for your vacation. Luckily I had done many of them, such as start a journal, get comfortable clothing, make copies of passport, driver-license, and credit cards, and buy a guidebook. There were a few things I had not done, like made a first-aid kit, which I will hopefully do before my time in Iran is up.
Since we were flying in an arch, our entire flight was day-light. Flying east also meant speeding up the time and we got to Germany around 4 or 5 p.m. local time on Tuesday the 22. The interesting thing about Frankfurt airport was that it was just as busy as SFO but it seemed orders of magnitude more calm. It was really interesting to see the security personal not rush you through security and when we all asked the person if we should take off our shoes she looked at us, smiled, and said “if you want.” I had been in Germany for 5 minutes and I think I liked the no-stress attitude.
During our 8 hour lay-over we got ridiculously expensive airport food. Each of us bought a different kind of German sausage and ate off each other’s plates. Nothing was spectacular though food wise. However, I enjoyed a really interesting tasting German beer. I can’t put my finger on what the subtle taste was but I liked it.
After sleeping for another two hours next to our terminal, we boarded the 5 hour flight to Iran. The carrier was again Lufthansa and this time I watched a soccer movie, The Miracle of Bern, once in English and once in Germany (Das Wunder von Bern). I didn’t learn a word of German but I think I was in a high of travel and wanted to make an effort to not do something in English. It seems like EVERYONE knows English and even though it is good in a sort of way of you can communicate with everyone I also think it sucks. It kind of takes the specialness and uniqueness of English as a language. I mean like when you hear someone speak German you know that only some people from certain places in the world know that language so the person is likely from that region. Not English. EVERYONE knows English. Hearing them speak English tells you little to nothing about the person.
We finally landed in Iran at 1a.m Wednesday the 23rd. Even though we had rehearsed a list of questionnaire in case the airport security decided to be hard on us we got through with ZERO problems. We approached the counter terrified and literally all three of our passports were stamped in less than 15 seconds. The guy did not even respond to our hello and our thank you. I don’t even think he looked at us.
After waiting for about 45minutes next to the belt for our luggage our 6 pieces finally came out one by one. This time we lined up in the customs line and again prepared and terrified the people were going to open our bags, search through our stuff, and pick some stupid thing to cling onto. My mom had even told me if they ask you to throw away your guidebook (there are pictures of women in there), that I should do it. I had responded with a half-hearted ok as I did not want to have to actually argue with her AND the security guy about the fact that I needed that for later. However, once again we went through with ZERO troubles. It was interesting and refreshing site.
We met with our family (my aunt, uncle, and my mom’s high-school friend who with her husband and two kids similar in age to me and my sister has become like an extended family) and said our hellos. It was thrilling to see them again. Although by now it was 3a.m the airport was very busy and when we got to the car my first real laughing/shock moment came. All cars, including our car, were double parked. With police right there I was confused how this was ok but I was told that when parking is scarce this is normal. You just leave your car in neutral and if the person being blocked comes back they push your car a bit out of their way and then get into their own car. I couldn’t believe this is how they dealt with parking but I quickly learned this was not my final driving surprise.
On the way home on the freeway I saw a car that had missed its exit backing up. I noticed most of the road have no lanes, and if they do it is not uncommon AT ALL to drive in the middle even if there is no cars around. And even though it was 3a.m and very little cars were out flashing of high-beams and horns were aplenty. I was not used to this kind of driving but I understood that the horn and light-flashes are not a sign of anger but rather a signal for the other driver of presence and approach. However, they can both be used for anger but it is clear when that is the case. For example with a quick flash of the light the car going slightly slower than us went right and a bit later with a quick hunk of our horn the car merging onto the freeway slowed down and glided behind us. The driving is TERRIFYING here, but at the same time slightly safer than it looks. People seem to fully understand the etiquette and language of driving. One of the most interesting things to me is a count-down clock for red-light and green-lights. It counts down to the next light. I did not understand the necessity of this at first since it was 3a.m when we were driving home but in the coming days it became evident that right after a light changes from green and about 10 seconds before it changes from red again to green the color is meaningless. Cars start going if stopped and if going they do not stop. It is nearly impossible to comprehend the extent of weirdness in driving here.
When we finally got near my aunt’s house, I finally began to see familiar things and recognize familiar places. The country as a whole had changed a lot. There was significantly more development going on now and the roads were much more advanced. My aunt’s house had changed a lot since I left also. There was a modern A/C, brand new fridge, brand new dishwasher, and although from the outside the house looks like a house you would expect in a 3rd world country, the insides are very similar (at least on the surface) to any 21st century home. It was interesting to see such modern equipment in her house.
When we got back around 4a.m you would think it was time to asleep but that is not ANYWEHRE near the case. Having been away from some of these people for 12 years we stayed up talking and exchanging stories and as some left for work, others woke up and came over for a visit. We talked and ate breakfast at 7a.m. Me and my aunt walked over to the corner and bought fresh baked bread. It was the same bakery me and my grandma gone to for many years during my childhood. When I was a kid the baker would give me a personal mini bread, but my aunt said he is old now and does not always come to work. We had breakfast of honey, cheese, jam, tea, and bread. Even though sounds simple, it was SOOOO good. And although I had not slept right for about 72 hours, the enthusiasm of others was giving me energy as we were all up throughout the day with people coming by to say hello and spend some time with us.
After a quick nap, we got up around 2p.m to go to the local markets to shop. The exchange rate is about 1-1,000 so it is easy to convert and name prices in dollars. Because of inflation, shopping at local markets had some tricks to it that may even be transferrable to western world. For example, my aunt rounded up prices by asking for extra bags to be added to price so she can get only bills back and not coins.
Another thing that fascinated me was the pace to life. At another local market the “cashier” was on the phone with a friend it seemed while he weighted the fresh produce of one person (entering their price from memory), and exchanging money with the previous person he had rung up (remembering what the previous price was and what change he needs to give). I was baffled how he was able to do all this. At another market, when asked for 3kg of cherries (about $2 a kg), the 12 year old who was working there eye-balled a bag of cherries for us which he weighted to be 2.97kg.
Although I can speak the language, these little things that I continually see (driving style, behavior at local markets), make me feel like a total outsider here more than I ever thought I would. People continually talk to COMPLETE strangers for directions to places, prices of items at other stores, quality of items here. It is interesting to see this style of life.
We got back from the store and made dinner with the fresh bought produce and ate the fresh-fruits. We went to bed around 9 or 10p.m I think. We deserved it.
This set of days were not very interesting in events and the writing was VERY VERY long because it was really the story of the three days it took for us to get to Iran. This is really a beautiful country filled with beautiful people. Just too bad there is SOOO much stress (as you will soon see).
-NZ
My journal entries are bullet points I have made about my day’s experiences as I learned immediately if I were to write the entire story every time I would need many hours each night, many journals, and would likely give up. However I will turn these bullet-points into stories here.
Our (Me, my sister Narges, and my mom Fariba) trip to Iran started at about 10:15a.m on Monday the 21st when the shuttle driver came to drive us from Campbell to SFO. I was exhausted as I had stayed up the ENTIRE night the previous night to finish packing and making sure I will not forget anything. Also I was just trying to be as tired as possible for the flight so I can sleep the entire way.
We got to SFO at around 11:30, I slept the entire way, and we waited in line for about an hour to check-in our bags and check into our flights. The line for on-line checked-in people was about 1/10th as long. My mom and sister had ignored e-mails suggesting on-line check-in. I don’t understand why, but I think it’s interesting even though on-line check-in exists, and reminders are sent, so many people just ignore the convenience. We waited in the security line with excitement and got through without a problem. SFO is a madness and the attendants seem rude and forceful to get things done and you through as soon as possible (this was to become evident only later). Anywho, it was still two hours before our flight to Frankfurt but with such a trip you cannot risk being late. We had lunch at the café there and I watched a world-cup match. I don’t remember which one it was since I was so tired.
Once we boarded our plane, Lufthansa was the carrier, I realized how lucky I had gotten. We got one of the first rows in the economy class and there was no seat in front of me so I had essentially a first class seat. There was ample leg-room and that made the trip a lot better. I had a carry-on back-pack, REI-Flash 16 pack, to carry some stuff onto the plane. Although I was wearing shorts for the flight, in the back-pack I had a pair of pants because in Iran you cannot wear shorts in public. True story. I also had my Europe guidebooks (Lets-go Europe 2010 and Rough-guide to first time in Europe), my iPod-touch (which I learned after 10 minutes into the flight I had not charged), contact solution (the flight is 12 hours and I was planning on sleeping most of the time), a jacket (I ended up using for taking a nap), and my wallet and passports.
I spent the entire 12 hour flight to Germany asleep or reading my Rough-guide book or eating. The flight-attendants continually roamed the halls bringing food and snacks and drinks. I had myself three or four drinks, not including the two glasses of wine with dinner, throughout the flight. It was all “free” (if you don’t count the ticket price). I ended up reading about 190 pages during this time and slept the rest. I was not interested in any of the movies playing and I wanted to prepare for my trip throughout Europe after these few weeks in Iran. It was an interesting choice reading this book on the flight out as most of the book was about the things to bring with yourself and things to do to prepare for your vacation. Luckily I had done many of them, such as start a journal, get comfortable clothing, make copies of passport, driver-license, and credit cards, and buy a guidebook. There were a few things I had not done, like made a first-aid kit, which I will hopefully do before my time in Iran is up.
Since we were flying in an arch, our entire flight was day-light. Flying east also meant speeding up the time and we got to Germany around 4 or 5 p.m. local time on Tuesday the 22. The interesting thing about Frankfurt airport was that it was just as busy as SFO but it seemed orders of magnitude more calm. It was really interesting to see the security personal not rush you through security and when we all asked the person if we should take off our shoes she looked at us, smiled, and said “if you want.” I had been in Germany for 5 minutes and I think I liked the no-stress attitude.
During our 8 hour lay-over we got ridiculously expensive airport food. Each of us bought a different kind of German sausage and ate off each other’s plates. Nothing was spectacular though food wise. However, I enjoyed a really interesting tasting German beer. I can’t put my finger on what the subtle taste was but I liked it.
After sleeping for another two hours next to our terminal, we boarded the 5 hour flight to Iran. The carrier was again Lufthansa and this time I watched a soccer movie, The Miracle of Bern, once in English and once in Germany (Das Wunder von Bern). I didn’t learn a word of German but I think I was in a high of travel and wanted to make an effort to not do something in English. It seems like EVERYONE knows English and even though it is good in a sort of way of you can communicate with everyone I also think it sucks. It kind of takes the specialness and uniqueness of English as a language. I mean like when you hear someone speak German you know that only some people from certain places in the world know that language so the person is likely from that region. Not English. EVERYONE knows English. Hearing them speak English tells you little to nothing about the person.
We finally landed in Iran at 1a.m Wednesday the 23rd. Even though we had rehearsed a list of questionnaire in case the airport security decided to be hard on us we got through with ZERO problems. We approached the counter terrified and literally all three of our passports were stamped in less than 15 seconds. The guy did not even respond to our hello and our thank you. I don’t even think he looked at us.
After waiting for about 45minutes next to the belt for our luggage our 6 pieces finally came out one by one. This time we lined up in the customs line and again prepared and terrified the people were going to open our bags, search through our stuff, and pick some stupid thing to cling onto. My mom had even told me if they ask you to throw away your guidebook (there are pictures of women in there), that I should do it. I had responded with a half-hearted ok as I did not want to have to actually argue with her AND the security guy about the fact that I needed that for later. However, once again we went through with ZERO troubles. It was interesting and refreshing site.
We met with our family (my aunt, uncle, and my mom’s high-school friend who with her husband and two kids similar in age to me and my sister has become like an extended family) and said our hellos. It was thrilling to see them again. Although by now it was 3a.m the airport was very busy and when we got to the car my first real laughing/shock moment came. All cars, including our car, were double parked. With police right there I was confused how this was ok but I was told that when parking is scarce this is normal. You just leave your car in neutral and if the person being blocked comes back they push your car a bit out of their way and then get into their own car. I couldn’t believe this is how they dealt with parking but I quickly learned this was not my final driving surprise.
On the way home on the freeway I saw a car that had missed its exit backing up. I noticed most of the road have no lanes, and if they do it is not uncommon AT ALL to drive in the middle even if there is no cars around. And even though it was 3a.m and very little cars were out flashing of high-beams and horns were aplenty. I was not used to this kind of driving but I understood that the horn and light-flashes are not a sign of anger but rather a signal for the other driver of presence and approach. However, they can both be used for anger but it is clear when that is the case. For example with a quick flash of the light the car going slightly slower than us went right and a bit later with a quick hunk of our horn the car merging onto the freeway slowed down and glided behind us. The driving is TERRIFYING here, but at the same time slightly safer than it looks. People seem to fully understand the etiquette and language of driving. One of the most interesting things to me is a count-down clock for red-light and green-lights. It counts down to the next light. I did not understand the necessity of this at first since it was 3a.m when we were driving home but in the coming days it became evident that right after a light changes from green and about 10 seconds before it changes from red again to green the color is meaningless. Cars start going if stopped and if going they do not stop. It is nearly impossible to comprehend the extent of weirdness in driving here.
When we finally got near my aunt’s house, I finally began to see familiar things and recognize familiar places. The country as a whole had changed a lot. There was significantly more development going on now and the roads were much more advanced. My aunt’s house had changed a lot since I left also. There was a modern A/C, brand new fridge, brand new dishwasher, and although from the outside the house looks like a house you would expect in a 3rd world country, the insides are very similar (at least on the surface) to any 21st century home. It was interesting to see such modern equipment in her house.
When we got back around 4a.m you would think it was time to asleep but that is not ANYWEHRE near the case. Having been away from some of these people for 12 years we stayed up talking and exchanging stories and as some left for work, others woke up and came over for a visit. We talked and ate breakfast at 7a.m. Me and my aunt walked over to the corner and bought fresh baked bread. It was the same bakery me and my grandma gone to for many years during my childhood. When I was a kid the baker would give me a personal mini bread, but my aunt said he is old now and does not always come to work. We had breakfast of honey, cheese, jam, tea, and bread. Even though sounds simple, it was SOOOO good. And although I had not slept right for about 72 hours, the enthusiasm of others was giving me energy as we were all up throughout the day with people coming by to say hello and spend some time with us.
After a quick nap, we got up around 2p.m to go to the local markets to shop. The exchange rate is about 1-1,000 so it is easy to convert and name prices in dollars. Because of inflation, shopping at local markets had some tricks to it that may even be transferrable to western world. For example, my aunt rounded up prices by asking for extra bags to be added to price so she can get only bills back and not coins.
Another thing that fascinated me was the pace to life. At another local market the “cashier” was on the phone with a friend it seemed while he weighted the fresh produce of one person (entering their price from memory), and exchanging money with the previous person he had rung up (remembering what the previous price was and what change he needs to give). I was baffled how he was able to do all this. At another market, when asked for 3kg of cherries (about $2 a kg), the 12 year old who was working there eye-balled a bag of cherries for us which he weighted to be 2.97kg.
Although I can speak the language, these little things that I continually see (driving style, behavior at local markets), make me feel like a total outsider here more than I ever thought I would. People continually talk to COMPLETE strangers for directions to places, prices of items at other stores, quality of items here. It is interesting to see this style of life.
We got back from the store and made dinner with the fresh bought produce and ate the fresh-fruits. We went to bed around 9 or 10p.m I think. We deserved it.
This set of days were not very interesting in events and the writing was VERY VERY long because it was really the story of the three days it took for us to get to Iran. This is really a beautiful country filled with beautiful people. Just too bad there is SOOO much stress (as you will soon see).
-NZ
June 29, 2010
Hey everyone. Today is June 29, 2010 at around noon. Our time difference, if you are in the West-coast, is 11.5 hours. Sorry I have not made an entry sooner but as I had suspected there are two HUGE logistical issues with making blog entries (and uploading photos) here in Iran.
ONE, access to the internet is horrendous at best. It is both pretty slow AND cuts in and out more than you could EVER imagine. Nothing is ever done with one click. I use the refresh button more times in an hour here than I do in probably a year in the U.S and I see every error message imaginable on a session basis. This makes checking e-mail, uploading pictures, sending g-voice text-messages (my number is 858-754-9349 if you care to message me), checking facebook, and really all the things you do in about 15 minutes at home turn into a complete adventure that takes couple of hours and gives me an ulcer. And even if the internet works, you never know when the electricity will cut out. I had a page and a half written when the electricity power cut out for about 10 seconds and I lost this entry. The lights stay on but the power of the current I guess goes below some threshold and the computer shuts off. Either way I am now writing on Word, with auto-save on at 1minute intervals and Ctrl+S following every period. Lesson learned.
TWO, I have close to ZERO control over my own schedule. My days and hours are planned to the minute by minute basis by my aunt and mom and although part of that is fun, as I get see many people and do many things without having to worry about planning any of it, it leaves me very little time to do what I want, when I want. Life lesson number one from this trip, being part of a extensive tour group over a number of days is NOT RECOMMENDED. You have fun but you have no freedom. Iran is a theocracy, its individual family units seem to be a reflection. I “saved” this morning for myself about 4 days ago and have had to fight and argue over two plans made that included me throughout this day. I hate having to be curt but I can only take so much ordering around.
With all that, I have actually been good with keeping up with my own journal. I make sure to do it as everyone is going to asleep or a few minutes at a time when others are busy. Free-time to myself has been scarce at best. Furthermore, I cannot upload the entries I make at night because the computer is in the living room and my aunt and uncle sleep here, as they have turned the two bedrooms into mini-hostels for us. Since I have a lot of time today, until 5p.m, I am going to make a number of entries today but will schedule blogspot to roll them out one at a time over the next few days.
I will title the entries based on the day they are coming from. I apologize if my entries are not as organized as they can be, I do not have THAT much time to proof-read and make sure my entries have a great flow and I think I rather get more entries out there (both for myself and those who are following) than to get one or two entries out there worrying about it being perfect. I also apologize if they go off on rants and tangents. As you will see life here is pretty stressful and I may inadvertently use this place to vent, I can see it coming. Read it, skip it, do as you wish. As I’ve told my sister and mom, I am so glad I will have the six weeks of Europe to actually relax afterwards and be with myself.
-NZ
ONE, access to the internet is horrendous at best. It is both pretty slow AND cuts in and out more than you could EVER imagine. Nothing is ever done with one click. I use the refresh button more times in an hour here than I do in probably a year in the U.S and I see every error message imaginable on a session basis. This makes checking e-mail, uploading pictures, sending g-voice text-messages (my number is 858-754-9349 if you care to message me), checking facebook, and really all the things you do in about 15 minutes at home turn into a complete adventure that takes couple of hours and gives me an ulcer. And even if the internet works, you never know when the electricity will cut out. I had a page and a half written when the electricity power cut out for about 10 seconds and I lost this entry. The lights stay on but the power of the current I guess goes below some threshold and the computer shuts off. Either way I am now writing on Word, with auto-save on at 1minute intervals and Ctrl+S following every period. Lesson learned.
TWO, I have close to ZERO control over my own schedule. My days and hours are planned to the minute by minute basis by my aunt and mom and although part of that is fun, as I get see many people and do many things without having to worry about planning any of it, it leaves me very little time to do what I want, when I want. Life lesson number one from this trip, being part of a extensive tour group over a number of days is NOT RECOMMENDED. You have fun but you have no freedom. Iran is a theocracy, its individual family units seem to be a reflection. I “saved” this morning for myself about 4 days ago and have had to fight and argue over two plans made that included me throughout this day. I hate having to be curt but I can only take so much ordering around.
With all that, I have actually been good with keeping up with my own journal. I make sure to do it as everyone is going to asleep or a few minutes at a time when others are busy. Free-time to myself has been scarce at best. Furthermore, I cannot upload the entries I make at night because the computer is in the living room and my aunt and uncle sleep here, as they have turned the two bedrooms into mini-hostels for us. Since I have a lot of time today, until 5p.m, I am going to make a number of entries today but will schedule blogspot to roll them out one at a time over the next few days.
I will title the entries based on the day they are coming from. I apologize if my entries are not as organized as they can be, I do not have THAT much time to proof-read and make sure my entries have a great flow and I think I rather get more entries out there (both for myself and those who are following) than to get one or two entries out there worrying about it being perfect. I also apologize if they go off on rants and tangents. As you will see life here is pretty stressful and I may inadvertently use this place to vent, I can see it coming. Read it, skip it, do as you wish. As I’ve told my sister and mom, I am so glad I will have the six weeks of Europe to actually relax afterwards and be with myself.
-NZ
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Introduction
Hey everyone.
Per request form a number of people, and a selfish desire to document my trip, I am setting up this blog for my upcoming trip abroad to Iran and Europe. I am going to be backpacking throughout Iran and Europe for the next 9 weeks from this coming Monday, June 21, 2010 until Monday, August 23, 2010. I have a personal journal that I will be updating EVERY day and I will digitize my entries into this blog as I have time.
Because my journal only requires a paper and pen while this blog requires an internet connection and a computer, I am most likely not going to update this daily. If you would like daily updates, please follow my twitter.
HERE WE GOOOOO!!!!
P.S. About the Ads: Since I think a few of my friends will be looking at my blog throughout my travels I have enabled Ads on this blog. HOWEVER, 100% of money I earn from this will be donated to charity. This is the same rule as with my other blog, myzlog.blogspot.com.
Per request form a number of people, and a selfish desire to document my trip, I am setting up this blog for my upcoming trip abroad to Iran and Europe. I am going to be backpacking throughout Iran and Europe for the next 9 weeks from this coming Monday, June 21, 2010 until Monday, August 23, 2010. I have a personal journal that I will be updating EVERY day and I will digitize my entries into this blog as I have time.
Because my journal only requires a paper and pen while this blog requires an internet connection and a computer, I am most likely not going to update this daily. If you would like daily updates, please follow my twitter.
HERE WE GOOOOO!!!!
P.S. About the Ads: Since I think a few of my friends will be looking at my blog throughout my travels I have enabled Ads on this blog. HOWEVER, 100% of money I earn from this will be donated to charity. This is the same rule as with my other blog, myzlog.blogspot.com.
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