The journey beyond
So hell has frozen over and I'm in Iran...
Just to catch thse of you up. Here's a quickie on my life.
Finished grad school. Made a piece while I was there and now I'm touring it around Edinburgh and Chicago are the next two stops. Now journaling from Iran...
SO I was asked to journal/blog about my trip to Iran. And I have to say that I struggle because there seems to be so much to say and so little to say at the same time. Internet access is infrequent and my mind is abuzz.
First off I can't get to facebook because of internet censorship. During the
'green revolution' facebook and twitter were primary ways that people co-ordinated so they've been banned. So I have returned to my roots! Livejournal!
Day 1: We arrived at Tehran airport at 12pm midnight after having taken a flight from Amsterdam which was weird. I say that because the plane is 'normal' until the last 20 minute approach to Tehran and then all the women are applying make up pulling out trenchcoats and headscarves and what was once an European plane is now an Islamic plane.
We land and make it through security no problem. Security at the airport is very light although the plane was greeted by a soldier. Chador check? who knows. I guess security is light because no one bothers to bomb a 'terrorist' nation :P.
Anywhoo I am beseiged by family. We immediately drive the 4 hours north from Tehran to Doughback. The family farm. I see nothing of the countryside because it is dark but we arrive at the farm at dawn.
Honestly the terrain in Iran reminds me alot of Utah and Valencia, brown jutting mountains except the pockets of green are lusher and more vibrant. Farming is the heart in this country. You'll see endless stretches of brown and then a walled in courtyard of endless green. Fruit trees blossoming and ripe for the picking.
Water is the currency here. Every place has a fountain and although all is desert water flows from qanats, underground man made rivers channeling the snow melts into the low country.
Day 2:
I can't sleep inside. I did last night and my allergies about killed me. I'm allergic to the blankets. I've taken to staying outside as much as possible. Tonight I'll sleep in a pashavan, an outdoor tent comprised of mosquito netting.
There is a large pond here that is fed from spring water. The setting is idealic. My father proudly points out his ponds and trees. Telling me how amazing his tree that takes three people to circle it is. I don't tell him I've lived with Redwoods that take 15 people to circle it.
Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in one of my own plays. They are constantly trying to feed me to my irritation. As you may or not may not know I"m not someone who can over eat. I throw up if I do. So the constant beseigement of food is torturous.
My days and nights are switched. The days are so hot here and the nights pleasant. It's eaiser to sleep through the day and stay up all night. My aunts beseige me with food.
My father has planted acres of fruit trees there spindly growth can be seen into the distance. Tiny trees on acres of brown. There's a large beige greyhound dog here. Supposedly to keep the rabbits down. It's a beautiful animal that is skittish of people. On the hillside is a small mud house of brick where the two farm workers sleep. At dawn I hear them singing their prayers to Allah from the pashavan. The pshavan is set ona raised platform with a persian rug on top of the railings. A thin pad is layed down inside the tent of mosquito netting and it is there I sleep.
I'm doing tai chi on a gravel path staring at brown desert mountains through the leaves of trees. The foundtain burbles in the background. I'm content to read and just laze. Tomorrow we drive into Kashan.
The idiots guide to Iran:
-Kleenex are used for everything but kleenex. They are napkins, dust rags, hand whipes etc. etc.
- Toilet paper is for drying your hands after you use the toilet not for cleaniness. Instead a small water fountain is used to cleanse oneself. I'm not sure how that proces works. So i just take the toilet paper, excuse me, hand whipes into the stalls with me.
-There are two types of stalls in Iran, western toilets and eastern holes in the ground. I attempt to avoid the holes in the ground. But I have not always been so lucky. There is a flexibility issue inthe achilles tendon that makes those things a challenge.
-If my aunt Fatiah offers you orange juice it's pineapple. DOn't be fooled.
-Wearing a chador is -hard-. Besides the obvious ideological reasonings keeping a piece of cloth on your head is hard. Unless you like batten/pin the damn thing down in which case you aren't breathing.
Okay here's a rant. Why is the predominate color for the chador and hense for modesty black?? It's a -desert-, 42 degress celcius+ and women cloak themselves in black from head to toe. How there aren't passed out women all over the street i'll never know. Also it's not just one layer of scarf no no no. If you're really religous its like 3 or 4. A skull cap incase your first scarf slips back, then a small scarf around the head and then the full body chador on top of it. Plus long sleeves and long pants and whatever shirt you have covers your chest too. Men are dressed in long sleeve shirts and long pants. The clothing choices here are destined to kill everyone. And it's ALL BLACK not white BLACK. Where is the sense in that?!
-There are no road rules in Iran. Lanes are suggestions not restrictions. Driving in Iran is like playing one endless game of chicken.
When I have strength I will write more later.
Just to catch thse of you up. Here's a quickie on my life.
Finished grad school. Made a piece while I was there and now I'm touring it around Edinburgh and Chicago are the next two stops. Now journaling from Iran...
SO I was asked to journal/blog about my trip to Iran. And I have to say that I struggle because there seems to be so much to say and so little to say at the same time. Internet access is infrequent and my mind is abuzz.
First off I can't get to facebook because of internet censorship. During the
'green revolution' facebook and twitter were primary ways that people co-ordinated so they've been banned. So I have returned to my roots! Livejournal!
Day 1: We arrived at Tehran airport at 12pm midnight after having taken a flight from Amsterdam which was weird. I say that because the plane is 'normal' until the last 20 minute approach to Tehran and then all the women are applying make up pulling out trenchcoats and headscarves and what was once an European plane is now an Islamic plane.
We land and make it through security no problem. Security at the airport is very light although the plane was greeted by a soldier. Chador check? who knows. I guess security is light because no one bothers to bomb a 'terrorist' nation :P.
Anywhoo I am beseiged by family. We immediately drive the 4 hours north from Tehran to Doughback. The family farm. I see nothing of the countryside because it is dark but we arrive at the farm at dawn.
Honestly the terrain in Iran reminds me alot of Utah and Valencia, brown jutting mountains except the pockets of green are lusher and more vibrant. Farming is the heart in this country. You'll see endless stretches of brown and then a walled in courtyard of endless green. Fruit trees blossoming and ripe for the picking.
Water is the currency here. Every place has a fountain and although all is desert water flows from qanats, underground man made rivers channeling the snow melts into the low country.
Day 2:
I can't sleep inside. I did last night and my allergies about killed me. I'm allergic to the blankets. I've taken to staying outside as much as possible. Tonight I'll sleep in a pashavan, an outdoor tent comprised of mosquito netting.
There is a large pond here that is fed from spring water. The setting is idealic. My father proudly points out his ponds and trees. Telling me how amazing his tree that takes three people to circle it is. I don't tell him I've lived with Redwoods that take 15 people to circle it.
Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in one of my own plays. They are constantly trying to feed me to my irritation. As you may or not may not know I"m not someone who can over eat. I throw up if I do. So the constant beseigement of food is torturous.
My days and nights are switched. The days are so hot here and the nights pleasant. It's eaiser to sleep through the day and stay up all night. My aunts beseige me with food.
My father has planted acres of fruit trees there spindly growth can be seen into the distance. Tiny trees on acres of brown. There's a large beige greyhound dog here. Supposedly to keep the rabbits down. It's a beautiful animal that is skittish of people. On the hillside is a small mud house of brick where the two farm workers sleep. At dawn I hear them singing their prayers to Allah from the pashavan. The pshavan is set ona raised platform with a persian rug on top of the railings. A thin pad is layed down inside the tent of mosquito netting and it is there I sleep.
I'm doing tai chi on a gravel path staring at brown desert mountains through the leaves of trees. The foundtain burbles in the background. I'm content to read and just laze. Tomorrow we drive into Kashan.
The idiots guide to Iran:
-Kleenex are used for everything but kleenex. They are napkins, dust rags, hand whipes etc. etc.
- Toilet paper is for drying your hands after you use the toilet not for cleaniness. Instead a small water fountain is used to cleanse oneself. I'm not sure how that proces works. So i just take the toilet paper, excuse me, hand whipes into the stalls with me.
-There are two types of stalls in Iran, western toilets and eastern holes in the ground. I attempt to avoid the holes in the ground. But I have not always been so lucky. There is a flexibility issue inthe achilles tendon that makes those things a challenge.
-If my aunt Fatiah offers you orange juice it's pineapple. DOn't be fooled.
-Wearing a chador is -hard-. Besides the obvious ideological reasonings keeping a piece of cloth on your head is hard. Unless you like batten/pin the damn thing down in which case you aren't breathing.
Okay here's a rant. Why is the predominate color for the chador and hense for modesty black?? It's a -desert-, 42 degress celcius+ and women cloak themselves in black from head to toe. How there aren't passed out women all over the street i'll never know. Also it's not just one layer of scarf no no no. If you're really religous its like 3 or 4. A skull cap incase your first scarf slips back, then a small scarf around the head and then the full body chador on top of it. Plus long sleeves and long pants and whatever shirt you have covers your chest too. Men are dressed in long sleeve shirts and long pants. The clothing choices here are destined to kill everyone. And it's ALL BLACK not white BLACK. Where is the sense in that?!
-There are no road rules in Iran. Lanes are suggestions not restrictions. Driving in Iran is like playing one endless game of chicken.
When I have strength I will write more later.