Iran Trip Comment

As many of you know, as I pointed you to this blog before, during, or after my travels, I was in the Islamic Republic of Iran from April 17-29. The trip was amazing, but Blogger, as you might have guessed, was blocked. I have written up the text of the posts for most days, and they will be published in the coming weeks. For photos posted while I was in Iran, check out my Instagram page, access to which was not blocked (even though Facebook was). https://www.instagram.com/ursalicious/ My videos will be available in this playlist. 2016 Iranian Vacation Feel free to leave comments on the posts if you have questions about any of the sights we went to or if you want a higher quality copy of any photo. The "Tales from the Dark Side" title for my posts is a little tongue in cheek, a little serious about our situation as Americans in Iran. You may know that the US has no official ties with Iran, and we were forbidden by law from going around without our guides. It was a shame, really, because otherwise, it was extremely safe. I hope that relations improve in the near future, because I really want to go back with more autonomy.

From the bazaar in Tehran, sunglasses purchased in Isfahan.

Tales from the Dark Side: Day 14

I don't know if I've ever been so happy to think about memories from a trip as I am about these memories.

That was the first thing I wrote when I started writing about this day while on the flight to Istanbul. I really didn't get to write much else, but I can remember most of it.

I got my bags together and the bellhops came by a few minutes early to pick them up, but I was pretty much ready anyway. I went down in a haze of sleepiness and sat with some group members to have the bread that they gave us.

The view from my room when we woke up and breakfast food.

I got up and saw The Model in the lobby. I almost reflexively handed him the other half of my bread when I got close, and he took it. I went outside and he was talking to the bellhop. At some point, I also pointed out to him that he wasn't showing up in my What's App contacts. He moved in closer to me to help me figure out what the problem was, and we made it work.

I was outside when the bellhops came out with the luggage. One mentioned how he wished he had enough money to stay at a place like this. I was too tired to muster any kind of response, perhaps I mentioned that I have been very lucky in life. He then started asking me if I was scared in Iran and make jokes that there were ghosts in an adjacent building. I smiled, laughed, and played along with the jokes. I wanted to close out the interaction with The Model with a hug, like I would with any other new friend. I tried to tell him that, but it didn't translate, and it never happened, but I guess a handshake and continued text messages will do. Soon enough, we were on the road, leaving the city and on the way to the airport. Someone remarked that there was no one sleeping on the street here, and that was something I had noticed throughout the trip. Here, they must take care of their own. In America, we don't see each other as ours. There are so many fragments, and even within our own, we are callous. Perhaps that is because we know the precarious situation on which many of us sit, and sometimes, a hand held out to help someone up is used to drag us down with them.

How I wish he would have really smiled.

We were on the highway, driving so fast. I wonder if these lights are up year-round.

We were told that this was Kohmeini's tomb.

Pathetically sad-faced selfies to represent how I felt about leaving.

The Model noticed that I was looking sad, and it was because I didn't want to leave. The airport was so far away, but eventually, we were there. Before we got off the bus, I took a last selfie with The Model, but it's an awful photo, so I'm not going to post it. We were getting our luggage, and when the bilingual guide approached me and said that I didn't even say goodbye to him, I instinctively hugged him. I'm glad I have his card. We went inside for the first line. This was an initial baggage inspection before check-in. Then we waited in line to check in. Next was passport control, after which we went through the normal security line. It was finally sunny out, and in this security line, they found the tiny Swiss Army Knife that the TSA never bothered to check, so I left a weapon in Iran.

All taken while waiting for passport control.

Finally, we were at the gate. I found some group members and sat with them. I mentioned how I now regretted giving my other half of bread to The Model, and it turned out that one of the other members had some bread to give me. Eventually, we got up to wait in another line. Our passports were checked again, and we got on the plane.

As I got on the plane, I said Salam to the flight attendants, but then I remembered that they were Turkish. We could take off our headscarves, and it was like I had left one planet to go back home. Well, I had an aisle seat and we were served food. I only got sleep during our landing, and then we were getting off at Istanbul.

We arrived in the Istanbul airport and I walked around, getting food and water and talking to people from my group. I met some African people at one point and gave one guy my number to contact me on What's App.

Look in the back, it's a Sbarro!

I ate this confectionery with a view of Turkey.

I took advantage of being in Turkey to have more of the delicious food we had on the plane, then we were boarding.

I was in an exit row, thanks to the nice agent that checked me into my flight in Tehran, but the other people in my row were in my seat, so they moved over. and I settled in. I had to put my things in an overhead compartment on the other side of the plane, and about 90 minutes after the scheduled departure, we were taking off. I learned that the people in my row had also been in Iran for the past few weeks, and we compared itineraries and pictures. The guy next to me was born in the US, but had dual citizenship. His mother, on the aisle, was from Iran.

A brownie, Turkish Delight, and some mint lemonade.

We also agreed that the flight attendants were a hot mess, dropping things left and right. During the flight, he nudged me while reading articles online and asked me, "did Prince die?" I confirmed the news.

I got absolutely no sleep during the flight, but I did get to 10,000 steps for this day. I listened to music and watched the flight monitors, taking a photo and queueing an Instagram post about crossing American airspace.

Customs

During our descent, I did manage to doze off and was able to miss the landing. We filed off the plane into America, but we still had to wait in customs, which was much more automated than the last time I arrived back in the US, in 2012. Lines and lines and waiting and waiting and we were through customs, now waiting for our bag. It had been raining, and the belt didn't work quite right. There was a point when we had to step in and pull bags off the belt as they kept coming up from below while the belt didn't move. After the longest wait, my bags arrived and I was ready to go. I said goodbye to some group members after I was past the last checkpoint. Then I got a cab, called my mom, and settled in for the ride home. When we arrived at my apartment building, I found out that my credit card did not work and had to use my debit card. When we got upstairs, I was compelled to show my mom all the souvenirs that I bought, including the beautiful bedspread.

Had my flight taken off on time, I would have arrived home in time to see people at Natachee's, but as it was, they were closed. I told my mother that I planned to go out and see friends briefly, including giving one friend the macarons I bought in Istanbul as a birthday present. It was so humid out, which was not really a relief. I delivered the macarons, and later, this friend mentioned to me that when I showed up, he had never seen me looking so happy. I went into the bar and chatted with some people who turned out to be intoxicated. It was a little weird to be interacting with drunk people again. I told them that they had to go to Iran. In fact, that's what I told everyone. Out back, I found another friend and hung out there, giving him popping chocolate. Then I called Jarhead and told him that I met an Iranian man that made him look like crap (for the record, everyone agrees that Jarhead is very good looking). Smiley came by too and I gave him an extra gift for facilitating the key transfer earlier that week. After a while, I finally went back home and was able to go to sleep very easily.

Walking back to my apartment.

And, of course, my baby Bruno was very happy to see me again. This is going to end the formal Tales from the Dark Side posts. I may add additional photos, stories, and videos to the Iran Trip Comment post, but at this point (early, early morning on May 27), I am getting ready to go on a completely different vacation, to Minnesota for the Prehistoric Party. I hope you enjoyed the photos and they have inspired you too to take a trip to Iran. I am already thinking about going back in 2018.

Tales from the Dark Side: Day 13

Note the bun under the scarf.

When I awoke, I had a lot of sadness because it was really my last day. I did my hair and put on my scarf for one last day out and about. I was planning to be out by the bus at 8 because I may have made plans to walk with The Model to the post office. However, when I got to the bus, all of the doors were closed and my drivers were nowhere to be seen. This wasn't unexpected, though, because The Scorpio said he had to sleep, and The Model said, "if I am not sleeping, I would", which might have meant "if I wasn't going to be sleeping, I would go". So I set off for the post office. Soon, I encountered some very vocal and friendly kitties.

It was a beautiful morning. I took the opportunity to photograph the walk lights in the city.

Then I continued to the post office and got my cards stamped. I put them in the box and decided to take the long way around the circle.

I went by a shop selling doughnut-type stuff, then I think I doubled back to get something with a sausage baked in. It was 3,000 Tomat, or 30,000 Rial, which is less than $1.

I put it in my bag and walked down the street I thought the hotel was on. As I walked down more, I realized that I had walked a long way and the hotel was nowhere in sight. I asked a couple young women for the Hotel Espinas, again, pretending to be from eSpain, and they directed me back the right way. It turns out that I took the wrong street from the circle, and by now, I had a ways to go. It was okay, I had time.

Another kitty, and water that I had to remind myself not to drink.

Finally, I got to the right street, and wondered how I got so mixed up. This was the street with the tree-lined sidewalks in the middle, which I do not think we're present on the other one. At least, that is what I recall.

I walked past a pharmacy, then doubled back because I didn't realize it was a pharmacy and thought I might find cleaning products without the trip to the supermarket, but I was wrong. But I thought I would make the most of my time there and see if they had an equivalent to Imodium-ad. Unfortunately, my attempts to translate "diarreah" through pretending to be eSpansih failed and I said I would come back with a friend (Spoiler: I never made it back).

I was hungry and thirsty at this point - parched - so I stopped at a news stand and got water, which was 1,000 Tomats, or 10,000 Rial, and was on my way back to the hotel, feeling a lot better. I stopped where the kitties had been but only saw the orange and white one. I snapped the fourth photo in the series at the top. Then I got to the bus and saw one door open with a groggy Scorpio sitting in it. I approached, or he called my name (as Orsola, as they were fond of saying), and I came up. He cleared off a space for me to sit and I did. I also took a photo of my food, but he had to go, and I went into the hotel.

It was as delicious as it looks.

Soon enough, it was time to get on the bus to the Shah's palace.

And finally, a representative picture of the traffic lights. There were some lights that had the red-yellow-green pattern.

When we got there, groups of schoolgirls were very excited by our presence, and loved me. We took selfies and group photos.

Then we went in to the White Palace, but first by the remnants of the Shah's statue. The rest of the statue had been blown up by the Revolution.

Another group of girls wanted photos. They also called their teacher to help translate.

But there was a little more palace to go.

At the door, the girls were back, and we took a group photo. The teacher said that they all wanted a one-to-one selfie with me, and that I should say no, which I did because that would have taken at least an hour! But I traded email addresses with the teacher so I could send them something from the US.

Then it was time to leave this palace and walk on to another building. I got some photos of the statue out in front of the palace.

Another kitty.

Along the way, who should come strolling up the hill but our drivers! They accompanied us to an art museum, but I found their company and other people inside to be a lot more interesting than what was on the walls.

I crashed a group photo and met a guy that moved from Iran to Houston and became a citizen. He gave me his business card to get in touch.

I got a little snack and some candies, then talked to the drivers. They had me take more candy, and we looked around more. Later, I joined them in talking to the women that worked in the museum and the incident with the car came up. I had told both drivers that I wanted to help move the car because I knew I could, and there was a mentioning of my strength. The Scorpio wanted me to punch the Model to prove it, so I put my fists up as a joke. Later, I told them that I did taekwondo, which they clearly understood, and I did a mock jab at the Model. We eventually left this place to go to the Green Palace.

Click the image for a video of the view.

Behind the palace, we took another group photo and then walked down. On the way, I expressed my appreciation for Reza in English (I like you!), then gave him a side hug. I think that was a little too much for him. It's odd, because I would sit and stand so close to these guys, and they didn't mind. They would move in close to me, but hugs are too much, I guess.

At the bottom, I stopped at a WC and then went to the bus. There were a couple sights along the road, including an interesting building and a day-care center.

It was time for lunch. There was some confusion about the seating arrangement, and there was a musician playing. The tea at the end of the meal was so hot, and I used ice to cool mine, but then The Scorpio did something that I only ever read about before in Laura Ingalls Wilder books (the only reference to this I can find is on this page). He used his saucer as intended! I straight-up freaked out.

Soon, we were back on the road again and headed to the Milad Tower. First, we went down a gorgeous Tehran street, then we got turned around a couple times before finally arriving at our destination.

As we entered, my FitBit was getting close to 10,000 steps, and I handed it off to The Model so he could feel it buzz when it got to that number, but I am not sure if I was able to communicate that, and he didn't mention anything related to it. We were soon inside, trying to get wireless, but failing.

Finally, we were able to go up the elevators to the observation deck. We were unable to find out just how many stories up we were at the time. At first, I didn't notice that we could go outside the interior area.

Then I saw some people going outside through some automatic doors and from there on out, I was in awe of the amazing view.

In the red circle on the right is our bus, so says The Model.

These guys, seriously.

Seriously, this city.

I went inside and got a souvenir from one of the artists inside the tower, then sat with the drivers as we waited to go down. And when I say sat with the drivers, I was sitting so close to The Scorpio that our bodies were touching - but no hugging. Finally, it was time to go down.

You will not find the American flag in here.

Not everyone got on our elevator, so we had to wait for the others. We also got off on the wrong floor, so we had to take some other elevators down, because all the escalators were blocked off. I went to the bathroom, and when I got out, I couldn't figure out how to get out of the building and my group had wandered off. I dawdled even more and took photos until I finally caught up with the group.

I believe that I caught up with my group by this time, but it was still important for some last minute photos.

Finally we were back on the bus and leaving the tower for our last bit of tourism. I got some really great photos on the way out and on the road.

Now it was time to drive to our last tourist attraction, a symbol of Tehran, the Azadi Tower at the west entrance to the city.

There were a couple other last sights to see where we stopped to photograph this tower.

The Scorpio not looking as good as normally does, note the cup of tea in the car, and a photo of the boxes we saw all over.

Then we drove off, back to the hotel, and The Scorpio got off to go somewhere else. One of the guides said he would be back before we left the next day, and at the time, I believed that.

Then we arrived back at the hotel, and I can't remember if I went back up to the room right away, but I think I did. I came back down after a little bit, in any case, and hung out with The Model on the bus. He couldn't park in his normal spot because another bus was in that spot and some cars were parked in front of it. He got busy making tea and every now and then, would get up to maneuver the bus into a better spot to keep it.

I sat in a seat on the left side, he sat in a seat on the right and we used his phone with the T9 keyboard to communicate. I asked him if he prayed the five prayers per day, and he said that he did not, but that he was, essentially, still a believer. Then I shared my lack of religion with him, except for my Church of the Holy Taco. I showed him photos of friends that I had captured from my Google Drive photos, including a photo of Jarhead and Hawkeye. I had earlier told him and The Scorpio that I liked hanging out with them because they reminded me of my friends from home - these two guys in particular. He wanted to know what I liked about him, and I knew that he knows that I think he is beautiful, so I told him that it was because he was friendly and kind, funny, and possibly that he was interesting, all of which are true.

One more time to hang out on the bus.

He told me that I was very good-hearted, which was also a phrase that the teacher used when she told me what the girls at the White Palace said they liked about me. He wanted to know why I was like that, and it was a question I had not pondered before. I ended up translating that "it is nice ... to be nice". It was then that I told him that I wanted to know more about him, and rather than going into a brief bio, he replied with, "what do you want to know? ask," like so many other men I've said that to. I wanted to translate back, "everything," but I forget how I began. I wondered what it was like to live in a place where your family had been for so many generations, but I wasn't able to translate my questions correctly. I did learn that his mother's parents were from Shiraz, his father's were from Yazd, and that his grandparents were about 80. Somehow, we got on the topic of travel, and he said that he had been to Dubai. I told him the countries I had been to, and he asked which one I liked best. I asked, "honestly?", he nodded, and I replied with, "Iran". It was true. I had expected the trip of a lifetime, and had my expectations exceeded, in part because of the relationship that was happening at that exact second. I proceeded to talk about other travels of mine, like my trip to Peru in 2010, but he had not heard of Machu Picchu, or at least how that translated. It was funny, I told him that I wanted to know more about him, but ended up talking more about myself.

It was getting close to 7:30, which was when we were due to have dinner in the hotel, but I had one more story to tell him. Back at the Cypress of Abarkuh on Day 4, one of the other members of the group asked if the other driver was The Model's son, and his reply was no, and that he was single. Other members of the group found this reply interesting, because that doesn't automatically mean not having kids - we would have expected the answer to be "I'm too young". I translated to him that I have cousins who have never been married but still had kids, sharing a specific example. Now it was after 7:30, and I didn't really want to miss dinner tonight, but I also didn't really want to leave the bus.

I went back into the hotel and to the restaurant where I easily found our group. I set my things down by a seat and got up for salad. Dinner was kebabs again, and there were a couple adjourning speeches.

Before I left on my trip, the co-worker that sits right next to me told me that she heard that big hair is becoming popular in Iran, and women will wear scarves over it. I saw an example of that at dinner tonight and stole this photo. I also saw a woman at the restaurant the night before with a large blond curl coming out of the front of her scarf. We finished dinner and went back upstairs. I prepared for leaving and made one last translation to the drivers. I said that I was going to miss them and that I wanted to keep in touch any way possible. I forget exactly when, maybe after 10, I went back downstairs to share that with The Model. The door to the bus was closed, but one of the bottom compartments was open, so I knew he was in the hotel. I waited, and soon enough, he came out and shook my hand. Then I showed him what I wrote. He gave me his number so I could add him to What's App. It was starting to rain, so we said good night, because we both had to be up around 3 to go to the airport.

Big hair in Tehran.

I went back up to the room and got ready for bed. I noticed that, just like with The Scorpio, The Model's number did not show up in What's App, so I knew I had to get that figured out before I left. I also realized that I wasn't going to see The Scorpio again - he had no reason to get up to take us to the airport at 3:30 or 4am or whatever, so I sent him my translation too. Just before I was ready to go to sleep, I remembered one last thing I had to do, and that was photograph the Quran and kit here in the Espinas Hotel.

Finally, I was ready, but for the life of me, I could not sleep. My mind and heart was racing with all of the excitement of the last two weeks and especially of the last three days. Looking back, at the time, I couldn't even remember what we had done in Shiraz. Even looking back at this day, things were so vastly different between the start and the end. I know that eventually, I was able to get some sleep, but it certainly wasn't enough for the 30-hour day that I was about to face.