A glimpse into Iran
Posted by julie_venus on Friday, February 13, 2009 · 3 Comments
Julie Paterson, Venus Adventures
Julie from Venus Adventures writes: “What! You’re going to Iran?!“ By the way my friends reacted to my announcement that I was going to Iran on holiday, anyone would have thought I had just flung a towel-cum-turban around my head and said that I was off to join Al Qaeda. I assured everyone it was probably an interesting country full of ordinary, nice people…and what if I rephrase that and say I am going to Persia, would that make a difference? Iran was formerly called Persia, but they both conjure up completely different images. Persia – land of flying carpets, exotic places and a certain untanglible Middle Eastern mystique. Iran – religious fanatics and women covered from head to toe in black. I had to see for myself. Thus began my travels accompanied by a Persian rug dealer friend, Nick, and a couple of his Iranian business partners.
My first cultural experience was the compulsory wearing of a headscarf. Now, my only experience with headscarves evolves from my childhood when my mother wore a scarf when she had curlers in. This was definitely not good for my image. On the streets, fashionable young muslim women wore attractive headscarves with quite a bit of hair showing and makeup – they looked chic. I looked like a 1950s Doris Day housewife. The more religious ones wore the black chador, which is kind of like a huge table-cloth thrown over your head and body – it covers all of you except for your face (which probably accounts for why Iranian women have the highest percentage of nose jobs in the world). Chadors are a hassle to wear, but great if you are having a bad hair day or haven’t shaved your legs in weeks – just toss one over your head, and voilà, you’re good to go! There’s something to be said for that, girls! The first time I had to wear one myself was to go to a mosque – I could not help but feel like I was dressed up as a ghost on my way to a fancy dress party!
Iranians, as with most Muslims, are hugely hospitable, and we were well-looked after wherever we went. Whenever entering a home we were always immediately plied with cups of sweet tea drunk from small glasses and a tray of fruit. The simplicity of a typical Iranian home is something I myself aspire too: the lounge usually consists of a room filled with beautiful handmade rugs, and cushions all round the edge of the room for sitting and leaning on. At dinnertime the lounge transforms into the dining room when a plastic tablecloth is laid in the middle of the room on top of the rugs. Out would come a banquet of rice, lamb kebab, plain yoghurt, bread and vegetables – and we would sit cross-legged (great for your stomach muscles) around the food, eating with our right hand from the communal dishes. Sharing food in this way seems to bond everyone – and somehow the food tastes better when eaten off your own hands!
Driving 5000 kms in 10 days we got to see a fraction of this vast country – we traveled through and across deserts, plateaus, and mountains. We visited wealthy urban Iranians in their plush houses and poor rural Iranians in their mud homes, and we saw Qashqaii nomads migrating with their flocks of sheep, goats and donkeys. We drank lots of tea, we bartered for rugs at the bazaars, we puffed on sheesha pipes as we chatted with locals. Western tourists are definitely a novelty, and we attracted a few curious stares, but heck, it was worth it to discover this beautiful and fascinating country.
More Adventures with Venus Articles
- Visit Morocco in March - February 4th, 2011
- Tea - making the world a better place - January 23rd, 2011
- A Day in Istanbul - October 30th, 2010
- Custom Trips to Morocco - May 28th, 2010
- Amazon Jungle Boot Camp - December 14th, 2009
Off to the silk route
Kazakhstan – when I got a message for an educational visit thorough one of the networking organisations I belong to, I responded I would like to join and see it with my own eyes. I have been in the international work for many years but my only piece of treasured knowledge of the country was that even Tolstoy did not want to leave; was flat as a pancake with the best plain for a Baikonur Aerodrom from the Soviet times and the people democratically elected their communist leader from the same era – Nazarbayev. With that I did my standard preparation I ever do – passport, embassy contacts in case of trouble, few prints of the history of the place, a few phrases – not needed this time as I speak Russian and a meditation that I will only experience the best that is stored for me and I was off to Alma Ati – the old capital. In the next few days I will experience walking through boulevards wide enough to host 3 lined up tanks on a parade; architecture – a mix of Asian, Orient and Russian influence; horse meat dishes in endless varieties, and cultural classes in schools where 11 nationalities – still amicably coexisting – will be sharing their culture in traditional costumes during a regular school tabled Cultural Awareness Class. What a great way to get to know different values in a way no Act of Equality and Diversity will ever manage to achieve. Above all I will experience hospitality and friendliness everywhere – on street, in hotel, in posh and shabby restaurants – friendliness of a nation who suffered the historical turmoils; lost their native tongue and spoke Russian between tehmselves as we speak English with the rest of the world ; there is a sense of piece and deep philosophic understanding that great things like the new 1300km pipeline are achieved through great friendships and relating to each other as humans. Astana – the new capital – where some 20 odd years ago the wind was pushing shrubs and bushes, today there are glass and metal towers, hotels and wide, clean streets – what an achievement from the same amalgamation of nations happened to be formed through Stalin’s sending rebels in a less friendly manner than going down under’; locals, tatars, mongols,kirgizs and every one who felt safe and welcomed, much the same way I felt all the time there. The country that had experienced the political stability which resulted in all these achievements, reviving the experience of the silk route on horse and turning Baikonur into a tourist attraction. In ministries women were negotiating for funded World Bank projects for support in a manner, their sisters in the other countries where Muslim is the main religion would only dream off and I felt proud for them, I wounder if they ever feel ten folds prouder as they should ,yet they still appear humble.
Being on top of the tower in the middle of Astana looking at the sun over the steps in the horizon the secret of the success of this I see engraved in a wheel in the middle of the tower with all the religions in the word with a ‘Together we are stronger’ slogan. Even my religion – Eastern Orthodox is there. Respect the rest – that’s what I am left with leaving the country with the 6th largest oil reserves in the world. I hitch for a taxi – any car going to the direction of my hotel or airport can do the job – Good bye Kazakhstan!! Will come back to travel the silk route on horse one day!
Julie Paterson who wrote this article leads a womens tour company called Venus Adventures http://www.venusadventures.com/
– small group tours, I did one to Morocco and it is a fabulous way of connecting with the local culture and country, while also feeling safe and connected to a small group of supportive journeying women. Go for it I say!
did you travel with a tour group? i’d like to do a solo trip this fall and would like to have opportunities to interact with the locals and everyday life (as opposed to go from sight a to sight b). any advice or recommended tour companies?