Sorry, I'll have to be quick and get through this trip!...I have already skipped so much due to lack of time, and so much more is coming. Friday my father came to Iran, for the first time in nearly 30 years! It's going to be interesting! d/reconstructing imaginations, nostalgia, paranoia, and such...stay tuned.
I have so many thoughts and conversations that I'd like to share, so bear with me if I just go on and on sometimes. If you do have any questions, it might actually help me sort out ideas for future post topics, and to understand/interact with my audience a bit :)
So back to the road trip:
After Qom we drove on another hour to the city of Kashan, famous for its historical houses (from the Qajar era-19th century), and traditional style homes built with ancient air-conditioning systems: 'Bad Gir' (captured wind)--round mounds or towers on the roof which capture the wind and distribute it throughout the house, and even chills water. Maybe this explains why Iranians love ice cold water! It is also famous for being one of the major centers of ancient civilization, with important archaeological sites nearby.
Kashan was a small quiet town, almost silent, especially on Friday. A perfect contrast to Tehran and Qom. We arrived late afternoon, as the excitement of Qom put us off schedule, and pulled over immediately when we saw these houses peeking over the rooftops...only to find these men playing "beach volleyball" - Kashan style. An old man on the roof pays no attention, hangs his woolen yarn in ease...the bazaar is beneath him, empty now. It's Fry-day!
Short on daylight, we zoomed through a couple historical houses, and the old public baths which date back even further. An earthquake 200 years ago destroyed most of the city, but left the baths intact, with major parts dating to Safavid period and even going further back: each ruling class built a layer upon layers over the years.
We were lucky enough to meet an enthusiastic local with a penchant for Kashan history. After a thorough description of the baths, he led us to this oasis within an oasis: An historical house converted to an arts NGO/cooperative, named after the famous Iranian modern poet Sohrab Sepehri-who was also from Kashan. 3 weeks before we arrived they had transformed some of the rooms into a traditional style lodging space, with proceeds benefiting the project. Lonely Planet actually beat us there by a week!
Our morning call the following day was a melancholic chiming which echoed from the garden courtyard. It was really like a dream...we discovered it was the founding member of the collective, playing his music on ceramic bowls filled with water, in a sort of meditative lull. What a great way to be woken! We took our breakfast of tea, bread and cheese under a dewy pomegranate tree, while my friend Baldy read some of Sepehri's poems, all about love and nature...Hippy Dippy!
Unfortunately we barely had a glimpse of the city of Kashan, though we did have a mean, giant kabob at a very local Azeri joint. Definitely going back to explore, if only for the place we stayed...a potential land of lotus eaters.
The next morning we stopped in the village of Abianeh, half hour off the highway to Esfahan, just south of Kashan. On the way we passed by the ominous Natanz nuclear site, where even the accidental peek arouses guilt...Landscape along the highway is so hideous it's sad. I almost cried staring at those rocks protruding out of the earth, their ugliness so exposed and vulnerable. On the turn off towards Abianeh, a dramatic shift occurs. Vivid autumn colors and crumbling villages are connected by massive orchards. Before the main village of Abianeh, on the right you find a helicopter landing pad, made especially for Queen Farah when she visited back in the 70s.
Inside Abianeh, old grannies still wear the traditional Zoroastrian dress, you can see below. And they speak in the ancient Pahlavi Persian. Most of them won't let you take their picture, unless you buy something. These sweet and silly women all sell loads of dried apples and various Chinese trinkets. I'm convinced they sleep upon giant bags of apple chips, all day they slice apples in the street, forcing you to eat one on every corner. This lady sold me some in exchange for a photo, but her friend still didn't want to be in the photo. As she walked away grumbling, our apple lady gave her a mocking look, luckily I caught it!
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2 comments:
Ta Shaghayegh hast
Zendegi bayad kard
Sohrab Sepehri
as the woman with apple does. she is so real and sur.....at the same time.
Great stuff, fabulous photos!
Wind catchers were THE way to survive the heat in the Gulf, and I saw them in Kuwait and Iraq too. Such a shame they are disappearing.
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