Trip Deetz (EDITED WITH PICTURES!)

We left Tehran at the buttcrack of dawn to head towards Kashan. We met up with the other two cars that made up our caravan and began our journey after filling our gas tank. NOTE: natural gas, not petroleum gas, which btw is like dirt ass cheap (70 cents to fill up the whole tank). A ton of cars in Iran, including ours, are hybrid petroleum-CNG cars. We got about 120 km on the natural gas and the rest of the 300 km trip it we used regular petroleum gas.

The first thing I noticed were people walking on the side of the highway towards Tehran. I asked my dad what their flags said (it was in fancy cursive that I can't read quickly) and he responded that they were people who were WALKING from their home village (which was 3 hours by CAR) to pay a visit to the tomb of Ayatollah Khomeini, as it is the anniversary of his death on the 4th of June, or 14 of Khordad. We later saw people riding bikes on the highway with the same type of flag but from somewhere else, all headed to the Haram-e-Motahar, or shrine of Imam Khomeini. I later found out the Haram is like a small city--equipped with a hospital, hotel (free on 14 Khordad), university, school, and even a bakery.

We arrived in Kashan around 11ish and first went to a place called Baqh-e-Fin (baaq-eh-feen), which is an ancient caravanserai created for Shah Abbas who was a king of the Safavid Dyansty. What was most incredible about this place was how the water circulated. Under the water table, the engineers who created the Baqh (trans. = garden) created a series of undground aqueducts that connect to an underground spring. The water system then moved around the entire area, creating little fountains, watering the plants, and cooling the surrounding area. The same water system provided all the water for local baths as well. The baths themselves had these beautiful carvings that were done out of what I think translates to calcium oxide or something like that. They said in chemistry language CaO2, so I don't know what that translates to. Anyways, they carved beautiful calligraphy stuff and squiggles (not unlike my own doodles) into the walls of the bath (and indeed they're EVERYWHERE on EVERYTHING that we saw in this entire region). The Baqh is also situated in an old castle that was constructed out of adobe and is STILL STANDING in it's (mostly) original form. The weather is hot and dry most of the time, so there isn't much erosion. It's unlike anything else I've ever seen.

We then went to see three mansions left from the Qajar period that used to belong to what I believe were lords in Iran that were important in trade and stuff like that. Anyways, same gatch-kaari, or the carvings in the chalk that they used for the walls were everywhere. Each house was broken into 4 sections by cardinal direction with mutliple inner courtyards, and outer courtyards and all with huge kitchens and tons of open space. Also, entering each room, the doors never met at the floor. Each door frame had a lip that was about 2 1/2 inches high that was from the ground to where the door started. After nearly tripping over one, I asked why they were this way. My cousin who I mentioned in my previous post said it was to keep out scorpions because scorpions can't jump. Who knew? Anyways, TOTALLY GORGEOUS. I want a house like that when I'm old.

We then traveled to Garmsar (Gahrm-sahr) which is where our hotel was/is the most famous place for golab, or rosewater. We went to a ?farm? that was just bursting with rosebushes. We then saw how they get rosewater (it's a really old school way of doing things, involving a 40 liter giant copper pot, a ton of water and rose petals, and then fractionally distilling the rosewater out. Also quite a delicate process. If you screw up, you're out TONS of money. Anyways, we bought rosewater, something called atr-e-chai, (a liquid which you add to tea after it brews that enhances the flavor), and another liquid called bahar narenj, which translates to summer orange and is basically the essence of this fruit and smells just wonderful, and can also be added to tea. Note: I will be bringing these things back to Grinnell and am willing to share a cup of tea with you. We were then caught in a horrible rainstorm and spent the rest of the night playing cards in the hotel.

Then next morning, we left for Abiyaneh (Ahb-ee-ahn-eh). Abiyaneh is a town that basically hasn't changed since the Safavid era--all of the people still wear the same clothing and build using the same building styles from hundreds of years ago. All the women wear these very wide big scarves that are white with little red roses embroidered on them and the men wear these huge wide satin-y black pants, left over from times when men rode horses everywhere and needed the wide pants to have enough room to straddle a horse. Super pretty, but the people don't like to have their pictures taken, so I have no pictures of the people. I mean these people aren't Amish old school. They have electricity and such, but everything else is still done old fashioned by hand. I saw a guy molding silver and forming each link by hand and placing stones, another woman weaving something that looked like the fabric they use for scarves. Very cool to watch.

What was really sad about the place is that I didn't see a single person between the ages of 18-30 who wasn't a tourist. I asked one of the old women about it, and they said they are all kharej az keshvar, or out of the country. She then said they all went to Turkey to find work. I completely understand the need to find a job, but I honestly think it is one of the saddest things to hear in the world. Here is a hugely special place with a unique culture. It deserves to be preserved and it should have individuals who are of that culture living there and keeping the culture alive. Not re-enactors, real people who were born there and will die there. Abiyaneh is kind of a tourist trap, but it's not a business run by someone, nor do the people solely make money by selling crap to tourists. Iranians (and non-Iranians, suprisingly we saw a lot of Germans there) both can benefit from going and seeing such a vibrant part of Iranian culture. I really hope it continues to exist and preserve parts of Iranian culture that for the rest of the country has been lost.

This is one of the times I severely curse the fact that I straddle two cultures. I don't really feel like I can really work to preserve either culture that I consider myself to be a part of. All I can preserve is my own blend, which I mean is important in it's own right, but I feel like it's a new culture. It's not one that has been established for thousands of years, with rites of passage dating back to the times of Cyrus the Great. I honestly think that if I lived in a place like Abiyaneh, I would never leave it. Culture is too precious. Though, who knows if this is something I learned in the course of my schooling, which I wouldn't have had to the degree that I am pursuing if I lived and stayed in Abiyaneh, or if it is something my parents instilled in me, or came from someone else. Point is, I really think people should do what they can to preserve what they have. I appreciate what I am and where my so much more by having seen Abiyaneh.

Another thing I noticed in touring these old places is the massive amounts of graffitti that are present. Why would anyone possibly think it would be a good idea to carve ones own name into a wall that has beautiful calligraphy hailing the greatness of the prophet Mohammad? Why do they need to steal tiles from a famous prayer house of the Whirling Dervishes? People can't just appreciate the beauty for what it is and preserve it in their minds? Why do people have to leave their mark on these things? Do they have, as my aunt says, no culture/civilized-ness? I just get so frustrated and furious that people would deface such beautiful masterpieces just because they want to have their name on it.

Back to the travels. After Abiyaneh, we went to Natanz, home of one of the nuclear facilities (couldn't seem much, just anti-aircraft shooty things and barbed wire), to one of the famous houses of the Whirling Dervishes, to which a mosque was attached. Everything was painted this beautiful lapis-lazuli color and there were engravings in script from the Koran lining the entire wall all the way around. Just gorgeous.

From Natanz, we had lunch and then traveled back to Tehran. On our way back, we saw this random old building on the top of a mountain. I asked my cousin what it was and she said one of the Shahs had an eagle. He was using it to hunt when it fell in the water somehow and because it was winter, the eagle died. He then instructed that a mausoleum be constructed on the top of this mountain for his eagle. This building we saw is nothing small, either. It was the same size as one of the mausoleums for an Imam Zadeh, or child of an Imam, which btw, is the size of a regular mosque with a silver, gold, or lapis lazuli dome. When telling my grandma about our trip, she happened to also mention that I am an Imam Zadeh from both sides of my dad's family, and then she went on a sidetrack to tell me that the cousin of her father was the wife of Nassereddin Shah, the most famous of the Qajar kings, and that all of our family used to be part of his court. HISTORY IS SO COOL.

Anyways, back to the story. The ride back was mostly uneventful, minus the blown out tire of my aunts car, which took a while to fix. Mostly just talked to my cousins more about questions I had and told them more about my friends and America. My cousins also got their first look at my cartilage piercing, which they were surprised I had. Most people women only have their ears pierced at the lobe, if that, and it is completely unheard of for men to have any type of piercing anywhere. Not surprising given the religon. Also turns out Islam, like Judaism, says you can't be buried in one of their cemeteries if you have tattoos.

CULTURE CULTURE CULTURE IS SO COOL.


&hugs,
Mona