Fear and Clothing in the Islamic Republic

As I was preparing for my trip to Iran, numerous people asked me if I was worried about my safety. It was difficult for them to say what they thought might put me in danger while I was away, but there was definitely a sense of fear when I mentioned my trip. Now that I am home all safe and sound, I want to respond to some of these questions about fear.

There were exactly two situations that scared me when I was in Iran. The first was crossing the heavily trafficked city streets. I'm not sure what the traffic laws are in Iran but, let me tell you, it doesn't seem like many are followed! There were many occasions when we were trying to cross at least five lanes of traffic, with no stop light or crosswalk. It wasn't that we were choosing to jay-walk, it was that at many intersections lights and crosswalks simply do not exist. What is amazing though (even for someone used to crossing busy streets) is that just when I thought that I was done for, the cars stopped. They would come speeding up and then, at the last split-second, hit the brakes. It took some getting used to but, by the end of the trip, I had become a pro at putting my hand out (I had observed someone do this and since they got a good response I thought I'd try it) and just going. It was absolutely terrifying, but I made it through unscathed! Another interesting thing about the traffic, is that there is virtually no road rage. Drivers don't get flustered when a motorbike cuts them off, or get angry when the front bumper of another car is mere inches away from the driver's side door. The lack of road rage allows the traffic to work the way it does, and although to an outsider it seems insane, somehow it all works.

The other terrifying situation was when we were at a small amusement area with carnival rides in one of the beautiful city parks in Tehran. (Side note: the Tehran metro area has over 800 parks and gardens - the few I was lucky to visit were all absolutely gorgeous and very well maintained. It is no surprise that the word paradise entered the English language via an old Persian word, pardis, meaning a beautiful garden enclosed by walls, specifically royal parks and menageries. Even now, many of Tehran's public parks have small zoos in them.)

Anyway, back to the carnival rides. Some of the people we were with (cousins, of course) convinced me and Nima to go on what I call "the pirate ship ride." It was one of those rides that is the shape of a ship that swings back and forth so that the riders sit facing one another and swing back and forth until they are somewhat horizontal, facing down when their side of the ship reaches the apex of the swing. This one wasn't actually in the shape of a pirate ship; it was a two-headed dragon. The reason that I call it the pirate ship ride is because, when I was a kid, I went on a pirate ship version. Once the ride began, I was screaming at the top of my lungs within seconds. As the ride picked up speed, I became so hysterical that my mother had to make the ride operator stop the ride and let me off. I swore I'd never go on such a ride again. However, when confronted with peer-pressuring Iranian cousins, I caved.

It was an absolute nightmare. I am proud to say that, this time, I didn't scream and beg to be let off, but I swear it was the longest ride I've ever been on and I spent most of it with my head buried in Nima's shoulder, grabbing his arm while he repeated, "Isn't this over yet?" It was unnecessarily long, but as with the traffic, I made it through unharmed and am all the braver for it.

Other than the situations mentioned above, I felt safer during my eighteen days in Iran than I sometimes do here in New York City. There does not seem to be the same fear of potential violence there that there is here. When walking around the cities we visited we saw some cops and some military personnel, but the only firearms I saw were on three security officers, each of whom was on guard duty outside police precincts. Service in the armed forces is required for all young men in Iran, but they were so unassuming and their lack of weapons made them totally nonthreatening especially when you compare them to the menacing soldiers carrying semi-automatic weapons in Manhattan's Grand Central Terminal or in all US airports. In fact, few of the military personnel we saw actually seemed to be on duty - they just happened to be stationed nearby. Even though Iran does have a large military, every single member is based within the borders of Iran, as Iran isn't currently occupying foreign countries and doesn't have any foreign military bases. In contrast, the US is currently occupying the two countries on either side of Iran, has over 700 military bases in more than 60 countries around the world, and its military budget is over 70 times larger than Iran's.

Incidentally, whereas I didn't notice any armed guards in Khomeini International Airport in Tehran, we saw plenty of guns in Heathrow in London, and all of our carry-on luggage was emptied and searched (they did this to everyone and it had nothing to do with where we happened to be coming from).

It seemed to me that the Iranian government, though perhaps wary (rightly so, given both the historical record and current events) about US and UK government meddling in internal Iranian affairs, doesn't constantly employ scare tactics to frighten its citizens and marginalize certain minority groups and foreign visitors. For instance, officials in the Iranian government often speak confidently about defending the country and its citizens against foreign attacks and its ability to fight back against any military invasion, while insisting it will never preemptively strike another country. This rhetoric may seem overconfident and unrealistic to some who worry about the potential military aggression and capability of certain Western states, but promotes self-defense over fear-mongering. As a result, Iranians appeared to be far less paranoid about domestic security issues than people in Europe and the United States, even though Iran is literally surrounded on all sides by US troops, nuclear weapons states, and has suffered many more successful terrorist attacks carried out by violent dissident groups (funded by the US government) in recent years than have Western countries, including the US.

This seems to me to be the exact opposite of what our government and media says and does. We're constantly warned that we might be attacked anywhere at any time and so Americans wind up being more paranoid and feeling threatened by things that don't actually exist.

Tehran is truly the city that never sleeps. There are always many people out and about, no matter what time of day or night. As we explored the city, we learned from people we spoke with (and also observed ourselves) that it is safe for women in Tehran to walk down the street, alone, at any hour, without being in danger. I wonder if this sense of security comes from Iran being an Islamic country. A man attacking a woman would be such a breach of the values upon which the country is based (not to say it never happens, of course.) But it goes beyond the criminal act of violating or hurting another person. It violates a set of deeply-held religious beliefs that truly seem to guide the actions of many of Iran's people.

I've mentioned this in an earlier post, but I feel it is worth revisiting. Many women in Iran don't seem to fear pushing the envelope when it comes to the hijab laws. Young women walk by police officers and soldiers with their scarves barely covering their hair and skintight jackets and no one bats an eyelash.

On a similar note, we've heard here in the US that couples who are not married get in serious trouble if they are seen touching each other or being affectionate in public. We saw many young couples walking down the street hand-in-hand, leaning on each other on the Metro, and even kissing on park benches. Granted, some of them may have been married, but I think it is safe to say that not all were, and they did not seem particularly worried about being noticed.

Another question I've received regarding fear, is whether or not Iranians were afraid to speak their minds, especially if their personal, religious, or political beliefs were drastically different than those of the current administration - or opposed to the entire system of government as a whole. Of all the people we spoke with, from close family members to urban college students to taxi drivers to bazaar merchants to complete strangers on the street, never once did I feel a sense of fear or censorship from anyone. As here in America, people have all sorts of political ideas. I met people who were frustrated by the government and many who were very pleased. What amazed me was that everyone who had a political opinion (which was literally everyone) had clear reasons why they felt a certain way and could apply their own feelings, frustrations, and preferences to their own lives with well thought-out rationale and real life examples. Very few people seemed swayed by talking points or propaganda and everyone seemed fairly well-versed on international law, world history (and especially Iranian history), and current events - both domestic and foreign. Throughout these conversations, we heard criticisms of elected officials, religious leaders, government policies and laws, as well as ringing endorsements of all of the above, and no one was shy about sharing them with us - even if they had just met us thirty seconds earlier.

One person we spoke with mentioned that he felt that if defeated presidential candidate and arguable leader of the reformist Green Movement, Mir-Hossein Mousavi, had been elected, he would have dismantled many of the religious laws such as hijab but couldn't say what he really believed during the campaign out of fear of what the Islamic government would do to him if he did speak out. However, we didn't hear that viewpoint from anyone else, including other people who said they voted for Mousavi last year.

Similarly, we heard a suggestion from someone who currently works with the Tehran-based English-language news outlet PressTV, that some of President Ahmadinejad's top advisors (and perhaps even Ahmadinejad himself) are opponents of certain strict Islamic laws, but have no power to address them since that authority unfortunately lies in the hands of the religious leadership, not the executive, legislative, or judicial. For instance, back in 2006, shortly after he was first elected, Ahmadinejad tried to lift the ban on women entering stadiums to watch football matches but was met with sharp opposition from the clerical leadership.

To us, people seemed anything but scared to tell us what they thought of their government, regardless of whether it was positive or negative. Everyone we met was not only well-informed, but eager to share their thoughts on the state of Iran and last year's election (only one person out of dozens that we spoke with believed the vote was fixed). Most people who were living in Iran during the time of the Shah's US-backed dictatorship said that people now are more free and less afraid to criticize the government than they ever were then.

As you can see, I didn't come across much fear, mine or other people's, while I was in Iran.

Video of our trip!

Nima worked for hours and hours to cut together this incredible video. Please pass it on to anyone you think may be interested. There is a full screen option right next to the progress bar on the bottom of the video. Be sure to watch it in full screen and turn up the volume!

I have another post that I'm in the process of editing so there will be more to read soon!



Here's the direct link: Our Trip to Iran

Back in NYC

Hello from Brooklyn! Nima and I got back to New York on Tuesday night, and I'm just finally starting to adjust to being back. Sorry that I haven't posted anything new, but we've been busy sorting through our 3000+ photos and getting used to hearing people speak English again! I'll post a link to the photos once we've edited a bit.

I'm working on a new post so check back again soon!

Signing off from Iran

This is going to be my last post from Iran! I cannot believe that our trip is over already. I feel like I’ve known the family here forever and I can’t imagine leaving not knowing when (or if) I’ll ever see them again. I’m going to miss them so much! I really don’t want to say good-bye. I’ve formed some strong bonds, especially with some of the girls, and I know that I’m going to be really emotional when I have to leave.

There is still so much I want to write about and share with everyone, so I’m planning on writing a lot more when we get back. There is so much to tell you about the people I’ve met and the places I’ve seen as well as about observations I’ve made about this amazing country. If there are any specific questions you have please let me know and I’ll try to answer them in later posts.

I’ll see you all soon!

From Shiraz to Esfahan: People and Places

As you know from my last post, on Saturday we left Tehran and headed south for some traveling in Shiraz and Esfahan. Both cities are quite different from Tehran, and from each other, but all three have incredible things to offer.

In Tehran, our time was (and will be when we return on Thursday morning) primarily devoted to spending time with family. We did some sight-seeing last week, but we always had a number of family members with us, so it was less about the place and more about the people. Now that we are not with the family, I’ve had a chance to experience these two other cities in a much different way.

We arrived in Shiraz at about 10:00am on Saturday morning. My first impression of the city was that it was absolutely beautiful, and that was just at the bus terminal. (The three Iranian bus terminals I’ve been to really put Port Authority to shame!) Most of the terminal is out in the open and have fountains and flowerbeds all over. It was so welcoming right from the beginning!

As it turns out, the city itself is also pretty welcoming. As opposed to Tehran, which is a huge metropolis of 14 million people (more than the entire population of Greece or every single US state – not combined – with the exception of California, Texas, New York, and Florida!), Shiraz feels more like a college town (which it is). It is filled with young students who seem to be everywhere! The general atmosphere was relaxed and open. I noticed fewer women in chadors that I had in Tehran, and there were lots of brightly colored scarves and manteaus.

The people we met (with the exception of one grouchy cab driver) were all incredibly kind. Nima went down into the lobby of our hotel our first night there and when the young computer tech guy heard him speaking English, all he wanted to do was chat! It turned out he was a 21-year-old college student who works seven nights a week in order to make his car payments. He is also a graphic designer. His English was amazing and he was so happy to be able to practice with Nima. The second night we were there, we all ended up down in the lobby and spoke with him for quite a while about politics (US and Iranian), his job, his family, his university studies, his feelings about Iran’s religious laws, and his favorite TV show, Friends. As we were getting ready to head back to our rooms to go to sleep, he gave Nima his cell phone number and told him that if we have any problems at all while we’re in Shiraz, we should just call him. He meant it too! In the end he didn’t even let us pay for the internet we used (which is how we met him to begin with). When it was time for us to check out of the hotel, he gave us his address so that we can mail him a real letter, as opposed to just emailing, when we get back home.

When we went to the tombs of Sa’di and Hafez, we had another experience with incredibly warm, curious and welcoming people. A group of young women at Hafez’s tomb noticed us right away. After a couple of minutes of getting up their nerve, they came over and started speaking to us in Farsi. They asked if we were Arabs! We found that funny (I mean, just look at me) but they were from Sistan-Baluchistan (a province in Southeastern Iran) and knew we looked different, but couldn’t figure out where we could possibly be from. They were shocked to learn we were from the US. One of them asked to take a picture of us so that her mother would believe her when she told her the story.

When we went to the tomb of Sa’di, two other people approached us separately. One was another young woman who heard us speaking English and wanted to say hello, find out where we were from, and take a picture. She was thrilled to find out that we were from America and happily shared the information with the people she was with. The other was a young man who wants to be an actor. For the most part, he talked about acting, but as with the other people we encountered, he was also excited to find out that we were American.

When we were at Persepolis, we met three or four other groups of people from all over Iran who wanted to chat with us. They were all eager to hear our thoughts about Iran, and many of them offered us places to stay and insisted that we change our travel plans to stay with them and were already planning on changing their own just to accommodate us. They weren’t just saying these things to be nice or as empty offers of pretend hospitality. They literally meant that they would change their plans so that we could see where they lived and stay with them. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to take them up on their invitations…maybe next time. We exchanged email addresses with some, and took pictures with all! Iranians (especially in Shiraz) are just the nicest, most welcoming people I’ve ever encountered!

On our last day in Shiraz, as we were leaving a shrine (like a mosque, but with a tomb inside), Nima’s father asked a police officer for directions to get us to a beautiful garden across town. The cop pointed to a taxi stand close by, but none of the cabs would take us because of the direction we were going. The cop saw our failed attempts, then came over to where we were standing. He hailed a cab himself, spoke to the driver to make sure he’d charge us a fair price (there are no meters in Iran, just flat rates agreed upon at the beginning of the trip) and sent us on our way. I have never seen a cop in the US (or anywhere other than Shiraz for that matter) do anything like that! It was amazing!

This morning, when we arrived in Esfahan after a six hour bus ride from Shiraz, there was definitely a different feel. It isn’t that people here aren’t nice; it is that they just don’t seem to be (or at least haven’t yet been) as open or welcoming as in Shiraz. The city in general feels more conservative. It is a business town as opposed to a college town. People aren’t dressed in bright colors, and we haven’t had any encounters with people approaching us to talk or help us out (except for a young woman in a riverside park who heard us speaking English and shyly said “hello, how are you?” in her Iranian accent as we passed). We have another day here tomorrow so maybe something will change, but for the most part the people in Esfahan are more serious and keep to themselves more than in Shiraz. This makes me even happier being a Shirazi, instead of an Esfahani!

Although I’m writing about people in this post, I simply cannot write from Esfahan without mentioning how incredibly beautiful the city is. Today we spent time at the Si-Oh-Seh Bridge (Bridge of 33 Arches) and Naghsh-e Jahan Square. When we were at the bridge – which is really impressive and was built between 1599 and 1602 - Nima and I shot a three-minute video to send to my students who have been learning about bridges!

Naghsh-e Jahan Square is one of the largest civic squares in the world and is surrounded on all sides by buildings from the Safavid Empire. The Imam Mosque (formerly called the Shah Mosque), Ali Qapu Palace, and Sheikh Lotf Allah Mosque are all absolutely amazing buildings built in the late 16th/early 17th century. Basically, it is a huge, green square with beautiful fountains surrounded by a number of mosques, a palace and a gigantic old bazaar. The mosques are immense and the outsides’ are ornately decorated with rich, bright blues and greens with floral details. They are unlike anything I’ve ever seen! I could have just sat and looked at the buildings for hours! We’re going to go inside the mosques tomorrow, so I’ll update you on that as soon as I can. There has been a picture of one of the mosques hanging in my living room (which is also at the top of my blog) for years from when Nima was here five years ago, and now I’ve finally seen it first hand.

The square and Persepolis are arguably the most visited tourist attractions in Iran and are both UNESCO World Heritage sites. Even though there aren’t too many international tourists in Iran in general, we have come across a few different groups – mostly Germans - in these places. The funny thing is, I have the same reaction to tourists here as I do when I’m at home in New York. I just want them to leave so that I don’t have to be bothered with them! I guess my love for Iran has really taken hold because, even though I am myself a tourist here, I feel a sense of connection to this incredible country and I want to enjoy it without outside intruders getting in my way!

We’re headed back to the family in Tehran on a late bus tomorrow evening. Things might be pretty busy from now on since we’ll be approaching the end of our visit (only one week to go), but I still plan to get another post or two up before we head home.

Thanks again for reading everyone!

Shirazis in Shiraz...and more

Hello again! The hotel we’re in here in Shiraz has internet, so I’m able to post something!

We arrived in Shiraz yesterday after a 12 hour bus ride from Tehran. Shiraz is the second city I've been to in Iran, and it definitely feels different than Tehran. It's smaller and slightly less busy, but it is a college town so there are still a lot of people around! Since we've been here so many people (mostly young women and girls) have come up to me wanting to say hello in English. They also love to take pictures with me and just want to practice their English. Even just walking down the street people have yelled "Hello! I love you!" when they hear me speaking English and notice that I'm definitely not from around here. It is so sad that no one in the US realizes how warm and welcoming the people are here. I hope that I can help people to understand that people here do not hate Americans. They are so proud of their country and are so happy when they encounter travelers who appreciate the beauty and history of Iran.

Today, we went to the tombs of Persian poets Sa'di and Hafez where there are amazing gardens with places to sit and reflect. It is very peaceful and relaxing and beautiful places to spend the afternoon. Today we went to Persepolis, known here as Takht-e Jamshid. We saw the ancient ruins of the palaces of Darius and Xerxes, which are about 2500 years old! I've never seen any ancient ruins so this was quite a way to start!

Also, I have been wanting to address the subject of women in Iran since I arrived because I know so many people have questions and concerns about it and wondered what my experience would be.

Here is a little taste of what I have observed and experienced since we arrived a week and a half ago.

First and foremost, I have felt completely comfortable as a woman traveling in this country. I’ve been wearing scarves and long shirts (for those of you keeping up, the clothing I bought and borrowed before I came has been perfect) and I think I’m fitting in as much as I can for a khareji (foreigner) – even though the colloquial term is farangi, which literally means “French.”

I thought I would have a hard time wearing hijab whenever we were out in public, but it actually isn’t really bothering me that much! Sure, it’s a little annoying in the heat, but other than that it is just kind of something I have to do and, aside from worrying that it is falling off, I don’t really think all that much about it. It actually proved to be a tool for bonding with some of the younger women of the family, who like to help me make sure I’m wearing the right way.

Something that is absolutely incredible is the variation in how different women choose to dress. I’ve seen both extremes: women who wear chador every time they leave the house (and even when they are in their own homes with men with whom they are not closely related) to women who have the front of their hair in a big bump with their scarf sitting somewhere between that and a high bun at the back or their heads. The scarves are literally barely there and, more often than not, these women are wearing skintight, form-fitting manteaus (the cute mid-length shirt-like jacket that comes down to just above the knee) and a ton of makeup! When I say a ton (and I don’t mean every woman, of course) I mean caked-on foundation with intense eyeliner, mascara and eye shadow. It really is quite something.

It also seems like every other women (and many men as well) have had nose jobs! I was shocked when I saw highlighted and dyed hair poofing out of the scarves, not just a little bit, but to the point where much more of the hair was uncovered than covered! They make me feel like I’m being conservative!

I know that something that is written and talked about a lot in the US is that women are treated very badly for this type of attire. But, while being here myself, I have seen women hardly wearing hijab walk right by cops without any problem. What I’ve been told by women in my family is that, at most, if an authority figure sees a woman who they think is not covered enough, they will point it out and say “Sister, be modest,” and then move on. If they honestly arrested every woman who pushed the limits, the jails would be full constantly and the city would go broke!

These women aren’t trying to hide it or sneak around; they are dressing this way in public, both in the more uptown, chic neighborhoods and in the more traditional neighborhoods as well. While these women are not uncommon, there are also many women walking around in chador. I keep finding myself thinking how annoying it must be to walk around like that, but then I remind myself that they have chosen to do so. While the laws about dress are frustrating and something I would never support, it is important to remember that, within the boundaries of wearing hijab, women can chose what they wear and can push the envelope, dress incredibly religiously or find something in the middle.

I do see a problem for the women who are members of very religious families but who want to be more open and separate their religion from government imposed laws. Our family here happens to be very religious. Many of the women are like those I described above who wear chador out of the house and in their own homes around men with whom they are not incredibly closely related. Nima hasn’t even seen many of his close family members – first cousins and their children! - without their chadors.

However, there are some younger women in the family who want to be more liberal with the way they dress and in their interactions with men, especially those to whom they are related! One quick family example is one of the daughters of Nima’s cousin. She is about my age and married and her mother is the most religious woman in the whole family. Nevertheless, this young woman does not want to follow in her mother’s footsteps. The first night we were in Tehran, she walked into the room where we were, threw off her chador and revealed her long black hair, a beautiful yellow and silver tank top, shook Nima’s hand, and posed for a camera with her arm around Nima. For a woman who is Nima’s first cousin once removed, this is not allowed, and her mother would have been incredibly upset if she had seen it (she didn’t).

However, she chose to do that just the same because she wants her life to be different. The challenge for her is that she wants to show respect to her family (which is incredibly important here) so she must at least play the part of a more religiously conservative woman and wear the proper clothing when they are around. That is absolutely infuriating and incredibly frustrating for her and her husband (who is also fed up with the religious laws). It makes me so angry to think about how she has to led this sort of double life. It is so incredible restrictive for her, but it is because of the culture of her family and not because of the laws of the Iranian government. The whole dynamic is fascinating and I wish she and I could talk more about it –the language barrier makes deep conversations a little tough.

Something that we’ve been talking about a lot is the following question: If the law were changed and tomorrow morning there was an announcement that hijab is no longer required, what would people do? Based on people in our family, and people we see on the street dressed in the most conservative clothing, our estimate is that about 70% of women wouldn’t change a think about what they wear regardless of what the laws were! For some people it is all they know, so they can’t even imagine life without it. For others, they lived in Iran before the laws existed, but do not have problems them. Then there are the people who would, without a doubt, throw their scarves off and never wear them again. I just wish that it actually were a possibility that that announcement would be made.

It has also been my experience that, in general, women are treated with respect by men in public places. Men are always insisting that women go first through doorways and, on the subways, consistently offer women their seats. It is not like in NYC where you have to be 8 months pregnant or 95 years old to be offered a seat! I definitely can’t complain about that one.

There are, however, some interesting contradictions where women and girls are concerned. On public buses, men and women are separated. On some buses, men are in the back and women in the front, and on others, women are in back and men are in front. (This actually started many years ago to protect women from the unwanted touch of aggressive men.) However, on the Metro, which is new (and totally amazing), men and women ride in the same car and are crammed together at rush hour. There is a women’s only car but it is a choice for women to make for themselves if they don’t want to ride with men.

Also, men seem to work at most of the clothing stores and even fit women for chadors! The best way for me to summarize the confusion and ridiculous rules about women and clothing is what one of our 13-year-old family members said. She is a serious and intense girl, but is sweet and wonderful at the same time. She is incredibly smart and is part of an especially religious part of the family. A few days ago, she had been sleeping in the other room when we were all eating breakfast and her aunt went into the room and, in an endearing way of trying to wake her up, said “Stop hiding yourself! You’re so beautiful, come out so you can be seen!” Her amazingly astute response was: “They keep telling me that, because I’m so beautiful, I have to hide myself.”

That’s the problem in a nutshell.

Travel update

Hi everyone!

We are getting ready to head south for a few days so I may be out of touch. Our hotels may have internet but we're not sure so we'll just have to see!

Nima and I have already taken over 600 photos! There is just so much to look at! We'll do some major editing and post all of our favorites when we get back.

I can't even begin to tell you how incredible everything is. I have so many ideas of things I want to write about, but there literally isn't any time. We've been going to bed between 3:30 and 5am and all we've been doing at night is going to have dinner at different people's homes. Anyway, I may end up posting most of my thoughts when we get back to New York, but I'll keep trying to update you from here.

I'll be in touch soon!

Friends and Family

Hello again!

Some of you have asked if I am going to be able to post any pictures while I’m here. We’re using a dial-up internet connection here in Tehran (there’s wireless and high-speed in plenty of places, including internet cafes, but I’m really only able to write and post late at night when we’re back at Nima’s aunt’s place where we’re staying and she doesn’t have internet, so dial-up it is) and our super old and slow laptop, so uploading pictures would take more time and computer power than we have right now! But we’ll see what happens!

As I think I have made clear from my earlier posts, the family here is absolutely wonderful. I’ve been trying to figure out what I can write that will be of interest, but won’t be 20 pages (or more!) long. So much has happened already that I have been having a really difficult time deciding what to share!

When we first arrived at the airport, and I met so people for the first time, I already felt welcomed and loved. That first night, when many more family members came over, those feelings continued to grow.

Just as a note, Nima’s aunt and uncle have six children (whose names all start with “M”), four girls and two boys, all of whom are now grown adults – the youngest just turned 40 years old. Most of them have spouses and multiple children of their own. Some of those children even have spouses and children too. This is not even counting Ahmad’s other siblings’ children who we’re not staying with and therefore don’t see as often. So, only counting Nima’s aunt’s extended family, the core family group is over 35 people and we’ve been seeing about 15 to 20 of them every night, sometimes as many as 30!

During all the time I have spent time with these people, even when I cannot communicate very well, I have felt like a part of the group. However, even with all of that, I wasn’t sure how to make stronger connections with specific people. It is hard to do that in any situation - and in any family - but with the added difficulty of the language barrier, I was afraid I’d never get beyond saying “hello,” “good-bye,” “thank you,” and smiling sheepishly whenever anyone said something that sounded like it could be a compliment or when I heard someone say my name (which is pronounced “Jenn-ee-fair” with the “r” sound rolled off the tongue a little). I was hoping to find a way to cross some lines and develop closer bonds with some of young women and girls who were anxious to get to know me, but weren’t sure how to approach it.

One cousin, Marzieh, is about 20 years old. She went to and graduated college in three years and now works at a youth organization. She still lives with her parents, who are very religious. She loves to sing and dance, listen to pop music, wear chic designer clothes, and has been eager to meet me for years. She was amongst the group at the airport that first night, but we didn’t really make much progress communicating at that point. The first afternoon we were here, we went to do some shopping to prepare for a huge party/dinner being planned and put on by Nima’s father and some of his nieces (sort of in my honor) so that everyone in the family – who live all over the place in the surrounding Tehran area - could be together for one special night. We went to two different bakeries and it was my first experience out and about in Tehran.

(There will be more on Tehran in future posts, but a quick note is that it is an amazing, busy city that I can’t wait to explore more!)

While in Nima’s cousin’s car, driving around to the bakeries, I was sitting next to Marzieh. I know that she loves music so, while we were sitting together in the backseat, I took out my iPod (Nima suggested that I play her some music, but I wanted to make sure she was interested first!), and just started fiddling with it and scrolling through the Artists menu. Marzieh was immediately interested. I held it out for her to look, and she took it and started to look through. She picked something randomly to listen to at first, but then I chose a song for her to hear (the new Muse album). I don’t even know if she liked the music (though I’m pretty sure she did), but what I do know is that she appreciated the gesture, and it seemed to open her up a bit. I also commented on her jeans and shoes, and how much I liked them, which I think really made her happy. After those two small overtures, she wanted to sit next to me during meals and tea and made some attempts to talk to me, even though I had such a hard time understanding her with my incredibly limited Farsi. (Incidentally, she knows some English since most Iranians study it in school, but I think she’s been too shy to try it out on me.) Over the next few days these short conversations in Farsi continued. Hand gestures, facial expressions, and a lot of pointing also go a long way.

On Saturday night, (the night after we arrived), a group of about ten of us took an evening walk in a huge park, called Park-e-Jamshid, that goes up the side of a mountain. The park itself was beautiful with incredible views of the whole city (more on this at another time as well, I hope!), but what I most enjoyed was the bonding experience I had with Marzieh and some of the other women who were also there. As we were walking, Marzieh and Maryam started singing and clapping along with music playing from their cellphones. Maliheh joined in and they sang and clapped their way to the top of one of the park’s seven tiers (each level of the park as you walk up the mountain represents a different province of Iran and has a dedicated tea house that serves food from that region). When we took a break from our little hike, we were all sort of standing around and they started to dance a little to the music they had been singing and clapping to.

(As an aside, the cell phone technology here is so beyond ours in the US that it is unbelievable! Music, videos, pictures…all on phones that aren’t iPhones or anything, just regular looking Nokia or Sony Ericsson phones…with quality far superior to anything I’ve seen back home.)

The women – all Nima’s cousins of varying generations - were trying to get me to join in but I just wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t until Nima and some of the other men walked away that they really got into it. The reason for this is that, in Islam, a woman dancing in front of a man isn’t really permitted if the man is anything but a husband, father (or grandfather, etc), brother, or uncle. Cousins, for instance, are not allowed. But the woman tends to be the one that makes the decision about who they feel comfortable dancing in front of which is why they chose to wait for Nima to walk away before dancing with me.

The three women were singing and dancing around me in a circle and trying to show me what to do. Eventually we made our way over to a sort of gazebo overlooking the lit-up, nighttime Tehran where Nima was and, even though they stopped dancing, they insisted that we dance together as if we were bride and groom and were clapping, singing, and taking pictures and video the whole time. (This was something that has been reoccurring throughout the trip so far- I’m being received very much as a new bride being welcomed to the family which, as you’ll see, has influenced some of our experiences). Everyone seemed to be letting loose a bit, they were all so happy, and I felt connected to them in a totally new way. They had let me see a side to them that does not come out when Nima’s aunt, the matriarch of the family, is around. Even though she is so sweet, generous, and warm with me, she is extremely religious and has little patience for her children or grandchildren acting in ways that she deems disrespectful. But through this Park-e-Jamshid experience, I really felt as if I’d been let in on a little secret of some sort. Marzieh’s love of dancing and music also made this experience especially important and personal to her, and it added to our growing connection.

When it was time to get ready for the big party on Sunday night, I had absolutely no idea how to wear my fancy headscarf. I had confirmation from Maryam that it was a great color, and looked wonderful with my red dress, but just didn’t know what to do with it or how to wear it so it wouldn’t look stupid and keep slipping down. Through Ahmad, it was decided that Marzieh would show me what to do. She was amazing! She showed me about six different ways I could wear it and asked me to pick which one I liked best. Honestly, as a person who does not wear hijab, I could hardly tell the difference between the options, but I picked one I liked and she put it on me. It looked beautiful and all night she was fixing it and making sure everything was in place. A lot of people at the party even complimented me on how good I looked in the scarf. Again, this little connection made a huge difference and helped me to feel as if I had broken through in some way.

At the party, I also grew a bit closer to two of Maliheh’s grandchildren, Nikki - who is 11 - and Fatimeh - who is about 13. (They’re Nima’s first cousins twice removed, are you keeping track?!) When I had first met them at dinner on the first night here, they were both very shy and didn’t really speak to me at all, even though they kept staring at me. It had been the same at the party, until I happened to run into them in the bathroom. As I was trying to pump the soap to wash my hands, the dispenser broke and Nikki held it for me and pumped more soap into my hands. Meanwhile, Fatimeh was trying to adjust my scarf and futzing with my dress. These interactions with both girls seem so minimal, but from then on they were interested in taking pictures with me and just wanted to be close.

(The party itself was unbelievable. There were over 100 people there, all members of the family. It felt like a gigantic meet-and-greet, a family reunion, and a wedding reception all rolled into one. The range of different fashion styles, based mainly on the level of religious piety, was unbelievable. Every type of Iranian seemed to be represented in some way – from the most covered up, Islamic women (like Nima’s aunt Tal’at who is basically the exact social/religious opposite from Nima’s father, which is in itself incredible) to the most sophisticated looking women wearing beautiful manteaus, high heels, and gorgeous scarves that barely covered any of their hair. The funny thing is, even the most religious women were wearing fancy clothes and flashy jewelry under their chadors, which shows that the level of coverage is a totally personal choice and that it’s not based on being “against” looking good or being “modern,” but has everything to do with personal religious beliefs and how to present yourself in public. Obviously, I’m most impressed when the boundaries are pushed to their limits, which they are, constantly, by both young and old.

Some men wore short-sleeve shirts and jeans, some wore suits with ties (which is very un-Iranian, since neckties are generally seen as indicative of a negative Western influence) and shook my hand when we met. Others were very formal and traditional. Some of the young women had the fashion sense of a classy Upper East Side society girl, while others had more of a Long Island thing going on. Some of the women shook Nima’s hand when we greeted them, while others did not. A totally mixed bag of Iranian society. Again, an entire post could be (and hopefully will be) devoted to this party, but right now I’ll continue focusing on certain connections with people so I’m not going to get into the details of the party in this post.

When the party ended, a group of people headed back to Nahid and Mehdi’s house. They are Nikki’s (and her adorable, 2 ½ year old, younger sister Noorah’s) parents and they are wonderful, warm, amazing people. They live a fabulous apartment that I kind of wish I lived in. Fatimeh and Marzieh really wanted to dance (I think some others did as well, but weren’t quite as vocal about it) so Marzieh put on some music. We tried to dance a bit, but again, because of the incredibly frustrating “rules” about dancing, and the even more frustrating super religious relatives who tagged along to make sure there were no shenanigans, we couldn’t do it because Nima and a few of other men could not be around if certain women were dancing. Nima was nice enough to corral the guys into another room so that all of the women could really get into it. As soon as they left, the whole feel of the room changed. All of the women (except one) threw off their chadors and headscarves and danced like crazy to loud, “groove” music with techno dance beats.

It was such a bonding experience that I got to participate in and which that Nima sadly will never be a part of (though we videotaped some of it to show him when we get home). It is so frustrating and infuriating that those are the “laws,” but somehow it creates an incredibly strong bond and community of women. I was, all of a sudden, part of a smaller group of women and felt like I was really an accepted part of the group and, more importantly, the family. Fatimeh was trying to teach me to dance the way Iranian women dance (I was terrible!) and Marzieh couldn’t get enough dancing time with me. Nikki danced too, but mostly just wanted to talk to me and show me things in her room. It was so incredible to see these women - whom I had seen almost exclusively in Tal’at’s home up until that point – break out a bit and show a different side of themselves and their culture. I was trying to take in every moment, but really what I took away from it all (to which my frustrations with Islamic law are second) were the bonds that I formed specifically with Fatimeh and Nikki.

When I just saw Nikki again this evening, she was so excited to see me and was eager to give me a nice big hug and kisses on each cheek as soon as I walked in the door. It really is so amazing to be able to connect and communicate with people with whom I can barely speak and I can only hope that these relationships will continue to grow over the time that I am here.

This post barely scratches the surface of everything I have experienced while I’ve been here but hopefully you get an idea about some of what has been going on. I’ll do my best to write about it all, but a lot of it will have to wait until we get back because there simply aren’t enough hours in the day!

Thanks again for reading! I loved all of the comments and emails from you all about my previous posts so please keep them coming!

A Girl and Her Doogh

Before we left I had a lot of people ask me what the food was going to be like. Even though we haven’t been here that long, I’ve already eaten some incredibly delicious meals that I want to let you all know about. As you’ll see, it is not your typical Middle Eastern cuisine. For instance, there is no hummus, or pita or falafel. It is really a cuisine all its own!

First off, every meal is eaten on the sofreh, which is a tablecloth placed on the floor. This is great for me since I’m a big fan of sitting crosslegged myself, so this is right up my alley. Unfortunately, Nima doesn’t love it – he prefers chairs with back support.

As I mentioned in my previous post, my first real meal upon arrival was halim. I was very surprised to find out that it had meat in it because the first bite just tasted sweet and creamy. The cinnamon and coconut really flavored it and it was a nice filling meal after many hours of traveling. I later learned that the reason we ate that first, at about 6:30 or 7am was because it is food that “gives strength”. It makes sense if you think about it. The protein from the meat mixed with the fast acting sweetness does make a great breakfast! It was served with sangak, which is a type of flat bread. There are many types of breads here: lavash (the thinnest of the three; about as thin as a tortilla), toftoon (a little thicker than lavash), sangak (thicker than toftoon and but still rather flat), and barbari (the thickest of all the breads, named after the Berber tribes known for this type of bread). So far I’ve had the lavash, toftoon and sangak all of which are delicious and come in large pieces that people fold over when they pick them up from the bakery. Also, bread is never put in bags; people just carry it home in their hands, even when they're riding on the back of a motorcycle!

For lunch on our first day, we ate a type of aush, which is basically a thick soup. There can be many different kinds made with many different ingredients, but the one we had was made with fresh greens and it had home-made noodles in it. When it was brought out (everything was served by Nima’s adult female cousins) it was in a huge steaming bowl. I tried to take a picture but it didn’t really do it justice. The aush was again served with break, this time with lavash, and it was delicious. Nima’s cousin also made some eggs that were cooked over hard with tomatoes. Although it was basically just an omelet with a slight variation on the eggs, it really was quite tasty! Alongside all of this food, was also a plate of sabzee. The sabzee have been a part of every lunch and dinner we’ve had since we got here. “Sabz” is the word for “green” in Farsi, so sabzee is “greens”. It is basically a salad, but is made with just greens- scallion, mint, lemon grass, and some other spicy leafy veggies that I didn’t recognize but certainly enjoyed. Sometimes there is a radish on the plate as well. There is no dressing on it and everyone uses his or her fingers to eat it. It is really refreshing and such a great way to have a simple healthy salad! I really want to find out exactly what is in it, because it is delicious and I’d love to start making it at home! We also had home made halvah with this meal. It isn’t like the halvah you can buy in stores in the US, but it is made out of flour, almond slivers, sugar, oil and has a consistency with saffron and rosewater flavors.

Dinner that night was a traditional dish called fesenjan. It is sort of a stew with tomato, pomegranate, cinnamon, and finely chopped onions. It is typically served with small meatballs in it, but since Nima’s father Ahmad likes it with chicken, and everyone here knows that, they made it that way. It was served over delicious basmati rice and, of course, with a side of lavash and sangak! Since this was a big dinner (about 25 close family members came over that night), there was another rice dish called lubia poulo, made with string beans, rice, tomato sauce, small chunks of lamb and various spices.

We missed breakfast the second day (we overslept) and then had the leftovers from dinner for lunch. For dinner last night we had kashk-o-bademjan made with stewed eggplant with butter (or oil), sautéed herbs, and garlic, and served with a glop of kashk, which is sour, thick yogurt! People put it in many things to make it a little creamier. The kashk-o-bademjan was also eaten with the sangak and served with sabzee. It was so delicious, hopefully I’ll get a good recipe for it.

As you can probably tell, rice is a staple here! Some of the other rice dishes I’ve had in the past few days are: shirin pulo (sweet rice with orange flavor), baghali poulo (fava bean and chopped parsley, dill and lamb), and zereshk poulo (currants, saffron and chicken). I’m sure there will be more forthcoming.

One of the best parts of having rice so often is the way they cook it. Somehow it is cooked so that the bottom layer of rice (smothered in butter and oil) cooks to a perfect crispiness and makes another dish unto itself. It’s called tadik and it is amazing! I’ve tried to do this at home in the past, but it’s never come out the way they do it here.

Whenever guests arrive in someone’s home, they are presented with a plate of miveh (fruit). Typically porteghal (oranges), seeb (apples) and khiyar (cucumbers) are served with a small knife for peeling. Sometimes when your hosts want to make an impression they will have splurged on kiwi (which is pronounced ki-vi because there is no “w” sound in Farsi - I happen to love the way they pronounce it and have found myself saying the same thing) and moz (banana). I had heard about this tradition and was looking forward to it. Needless to say I have not been disappointed!

So far I seem to be averaging about five cups of cha’i (tea) a day and sometimes more! Tea is served before meals, after meals, in between meals, and during any time when one might be sitting around for a few minutes. It is delicious loose-leaf tea brewed really strong and then cut with hot water. I plan to bring some home to share!

Iranians have a real sweet tooth and many things are made with a lot of sugar. Desserts are super sweet and shirini (sweets) are always being offered along side a nice hot cup of cha’i.

Yesterday evening, on the way home after a long walk in a beautiful park, we stopped for a cup of freshly-squeezed anar (pomegranate) juice. It came with a little warm-up treat of thinly sliced pomegranate fruit leather. The juice is served with sprinkle of mixed spices that sort of tasted like brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Nima thought there was some cumin in it too, but I disagree.

Before I finish, I must tell you about my favorite drink, doogh. It is basically a yogurt-based drink that has some carbonation. Nima absolutely hates it, but he’s the only one. I love it (even though the idea of it isn’t very appealing) and drink it whenever it’s offered to me. Hopefully I’ll find a good doogh distributor in Brooklyn when we return so I can keep it up.

Okay, that’s all for now. Sorry to dwell so much on food and not on what I’m seeing, doing, and how really incredible it is here, but I promise to get to that soon. I just wanted to get this stuff out of the way first.

Ok, sleep time now and more adventures tomorrow (complete with rice, tea, and doogh, I’m sure).

Shab bekheir.

Inja hastam! (I’m here!)

Salaam from Iran!

After about 22 hours of travel (door to door) we arrived safe, sound and exhausted at Nima’s aunt’s house at about 5:00am Friday morning, which is 8:30pm Thursday evening New York time. As I’m writing, we've barely been here 12 hours, and there is so much to say that I don’t even know where to start!

First off, the flights were long but hassle-free. I was able to sleep for the entire first leg of the trip, from JFK to Heathrow, while Nima watched movies and played computer backgammon on the in-seat tv screen. After a four-plus hour layover, we got to our gate and watched the lounge fill up with Iranians waiting to board the Iran Air flight to Tehran. There were a lot of different types of people waiting to board the plane, older people traveling alone, couples traveling together, and families with children of all ages.

When we were airborne, we studied some Farsi and had the best airplane food I’ve ever eaten! It was Iranian food after all and it was a nice little warm up for what I’ll be eating over the next few weeks. Something that was really interesting about the flight on Iran Air, was that it was the most social flight I’ve ever been on. People who were not traveling together and had never met before were engaged in conversation and enjoying each other’s company. Everyone was so kind and interested in one another. On other flights I’ve been on in the past, people seem to go out of their way to avoid conversation with their neighbors. That may seem unimportant, but it really changed the entire feel of the flight and the time passed quickly.

Towards the end of the six-hour flight, Nima’s mother Ann and I started to get ready for our arrival in Tehran. We put on some make-up (most of you know I am not a make-up person…but I figured I’d give it a shot since most of the women in Iran are really into it!) and made sure we had our scarves ready! As the flight attendants announced our final descent, all of the women on board calmly put on either hijab (head scarves) with long jackets, or full chadors, in order to be appropriately dressed for arrival. I had painstakingly ironed my scarf that Ann had brought back as a gift from Nima’s aunt Tal’at the last time they were in Iran, because I thought that would make for easy situating when it was time to wear it. I thought I was all ready to go and then, of course, the scarf wasn’t sitting right. I couldn’t get it to stay flat on my head and I was struggling to get it to stay on with out strangling myself. It was making me nuts! Nima, Ann and Ahmad assured me that it was fine, and that it looked great, and since I couldn’t seem to do anything about it I decided to let it go. I now realize I had absolutely nothing to worry about.

We exited the plane into Khomeini International Airport and slowly made our way to the passport line. I had anticipated seeing lots of the large, intimidating images of Ayatollah Khomeini plastered everywhere. I’ve never really seen one in person, and because I can’t think of another way to describe how I feel, I just think it is a little overwhelming to see large pictures of leaders (religious or not) posted around. Anyway, as it turned out, I didn’t see a single one! In fact, the airport – which is huge and very new – was one of the most laid back, easy-going airports I’ve ever been in. I couldn’t help thinking that I was now in a country many people in America, like Hillary Clinton for example, describe as a heavily-monitored “military state,” meanwhile I didn’t see one police officer or military person patrolling the airport. Security, in the way we would recognize it in a US, didn’t seem to be much of a concern. The person sitting at the passport desk took the passports, asked if it was my first time in Iran, and stamped all four of our passports and sent us on our way.

As we were walking to the baggage claim, we heard shouts of “Dāyi! Dāyi! Ahn! Ahn!” (which means “Uncle! Uncle! Ann! Ann!”) We looked up and saw one of Ahmad’s nephews, Mohammad Reza waving and coming down the stairs into the baggage claim area. As our eyes scanned the huge crowd waiting behind the partition separating arriving passengers and those picking people up at the airport, we realized that there were nine other people there waiting for us! Every time I looked over, there were five women in chadors just staring at me, giggling, and excitedly waving. It was so unreal. I didn’t even know them, yet I found myself waving back as if I were greeting old familiar family members. This surprised me, since I usually don’t like meeting new people and it is often difficult for me to feel immediately comfortable in new settings. But seeing their excitement just brought me right in and I immediately moved past the nervousness about meeting them and was able to just feel the thrill and curiosity about who everyone was and what they were going to think of me!

After passing through customs (which literally consisted of putting our bags through an x-ray machine that no one was monitoring), we made our way as quickly as possible to go meet the family that was waiting for us! I was received with open arms and kisses and hugs by all of the women. To my surprise and without hesitation, two of the men (who are not supposed to touch me due to religious and cultural reasons) even shook my hand right there and then, in front of everyone! I was not expecting this at all, and to have it happen before any actual interaction was really incredible. Not only did they shake my hand, but they did it in front of older (more traditional) family members and also in the middle of a crowded airport! It may seem like a minor thing, but actually it was a really courageous gesture of affection towards me and, because I expected the exact opposite, it was even more meaningful and important. In contrast, as thrilled as Nima’s female cousins were to see him again (everyone had tears in their eyes), they stopped short of physical contact. This made the handshakes I instantly received even more amazing.

We finally made it out of the airport and into the three different cars that would take us all to Nima’s aunt Tal’at’s house. As we walked to the car, one of the female cousins, Maryam, kept grabbing hold of my arm and kind of giggling with excitement. Everyone was so genuinely excited to see me and I think they were in just as much shock and disbelief that I was actually there as I was. Nima and I drove in Mohammad Reza’s car with Maryam and Maliheh (Mohammad Reza’s aunt and mother, respectively), none of whom speak much English, so we all did our best to make small talk with our limited conversational abilities. The months and months of Farsi lessons and flashcard quizzes during our flight seemed to fly out the window as Nima and I bumbled around to find words we knew how to say and verbs we could try to conjugate. No one seemed to mind.

On the half-hour drive from the airport, we got a little tour of Tehran as Maryam pointed out different squares and universities on the way to the house. Beautifully colored lights lined the dark streets and lit up the tunnels and bridges all the way from the airport to the apartment (in Namju, one of the older neighborhoods in the center of the city). The green, white, and red of Iran’s flag were prominently featured everywhere. It was breathtakingly beautiful and a really amazing way to be introduced to this incredible city.

As we neared our destination, we stopped quickly to pick up a steaming pot of halim, which is an Iranian breakfast food made with meat, sugar, wheat, butter, coconut, cinnamon, and other spices, all of which are slowly stewed into a consistency like Maypo. And yes, the halim store was open at 5am. Welcome to Tehran.

We finally arrived at the house and were greeted by the welcome scent of esfand, incense being carried to the door by another eagerly waiting relative. We took off our shoes (as you must), dropped off our bags in the downstairs apartment we are staying in and headed upstairs. Nima’s aunt was waiting with open arms and I was finally able to put a face to this person I’ve heard so much about (and even spoke to on the phone once, sort of). She was so happy to meet me. She welcomed me to the family with many hugs and kisses and was so impressed when I told her (in well-practiced Farsi) that I was very happy to finally meet her.

Cha’i (tea, obviously) and gaz (delicious pistachio marshmallow like candy) were immediately placed in front of us and it was then, for the first time, I was able to really look around and realize where I was. I had arrived in Iran, I was meeting the family, and somehow, for some reason, I felt completely at ease and comfortable.

It was really amazing to meet such welcoming, loving people who were so happy to see all of us. Life is definitely different here (more details on that in future blog posts), but it all feels totally natural. I’ve never been so far away from home, or spent so much time with so many people I’ve never met and a language I barely understand, but it already feels like family and we haven’t even been here a full day!

I have so much more that I want to share, but I have to find the time to write it first! I’ll try to post more in the next few days.

Talk to you soon!

Khoda Hafez!

Well, today is the day! We're heading out of NYC tonight, we'll spend a couple of hours in Heathrow tomorrow and then head to Tehran from there!

From what I've been told we're going to be met by a large group of eagerly waiting family members at the airport even though it will be 2:30am when we arrive! I can't even begin to predict how seeing them all for the very first time will feel. I keep having these moments of anticipation - both excitement and nerves, I'd guess - during which I feel my heart rate speed up for a few beats. I think the reality of this adventure is finally starting to sink in!

The one specific point in time that I keep thinking about over and over again and trying to imagine is that time after we land in Tehran, when everyone is shuffling around getting bags down from the overhead compartment, checking the backs of the seats for iPods, books and any other belongings, and then just waiting for the airplane door to open. I'll just be waiting and waiting, not really knowing what is going to greet me on the other side. Trying to make sure my scarf is somewhat securely attached to my head, going over my Farsi phrases, keeping myself calm through baggage claim and customs...it is going to be insane! I just really can't imagine what it is going to be like and I am so excited to find out.

I'll keep you posted on that and other news as best I can over the next three weeks. Please send me any questions you have and I'll try to answer them (or find the answers to them) while I'm there!

Thanks for reading!