Nowruz Napping

Iran's four seasons are each clearly defined. On the morning of Nowruz - the Iranian New Year -20th of March, it felt like Spring literally happened overnight. All the buds on trees and bushes were green, ready to explode; a green fuzz sneaked slowly over the dried up grass; pink, yellow and purple flowers started making appearance. Neighborhood cats bulged with pouches of babies ready to pop out any minute. The Nowruz holiday lasts 2 weeks, and during these weeks the season developed into full bloom right before our eyes. It's probably one of the best Spring transformations I've seen. In Bosnia, I found out that they use the Persian word for spring, 'Bahar', as word for this very early spring sighting...those tiny green buds squeezing out after months of deep cold sleeping. And it's getting greener and greener each day.

ValiAsr is Green

Leading up the the New Year, shopping was a mad craze of bargaining and fighting, streets were extra crowed, with traffic at a near catastrophic peak (The amount of nationalistic Iran email I receive also reached its yearly peak. And BTW, the 'frozen cherry tree' is not in Iran, but South Africa). From Nowruz day, however, Tehran became a ghost town. People either stayed at home with family, and most left the city for the holidays. Some go to visit their families in towns and villages around Iran. Many of them go to Esfehan and Shiraz, where I happened to be headed a couple days later, along with my Mister (that's what people call him here).

Sleeping (dead) Fishes on the Nowruz Altar (Haft-Sin) at Park Mellat

"Agha Azad" at Esfehan's Friday Mosque

Millions of Iranian tourists pour into Esfehan and Shiraz, two of the country's gem cities, every year for Nowruz. The hotels get full, and thousands of people especially those from the poorer villages camp around the city. Esfehan was well-organized, and campers were designated to certain spots in the suburbs, so not to disturb the beauty of the city. In Shiraz however, it was what we call "khar to khar"("donkey to donkey"), or complete chaos. Campers were hitched everywhere: along highways, in the center squares, street roundabouts, and basically any square meter of space was fair game. And everywhere, everyone picnics. The best picnic spots were probably the ones along the Zayendehrud river in Esfehan, a picturesque river with breathtaking historical bridges.

Zayenderud River - "33 Bridge"

In one of many unforgettable encounters, after dodging the morality police who scopes the town for bad hejab (famous in more conservative Esfehan), we joined an Esfehani family along a quiet bubbling section of the river one evening. They offered us the most delicious homemade Saffron-Honey wine, which was tasted along with sweets made of honey and sesame. Then we sat back to a feast, with music and singing. (Often in Iran, you will be sitting with some people or even just walking by some place, and someone will just start singing a song or reciting a poem which everyone knows by heart, if you're lucky they will also play an instrument such as the Setar or Daf which happens to be on hand-- it happens all the time!)

Esfehan is one of the amazing cities I've visited (though my Shirazi family may not be happy about this), and I can't possibily begin to describe it here. I can just say that there is this fantastic vibe in the air, which I felt both times I was here. It is laid-back, like a breath of fresh air, but very organized and clean with wide sidewalks shaded by rows of trees, tranquil Persian fountains, and full of magnificent world wonders. They call it "Esfehan Nesf-e Jahan" (Esfehan Half the World) for good reason. Walking through the easy streets we felt like we just had an uplifting spa treatment, especially coming from the chaos of Tehran. Perhaps some time I'll work up the courage to dedicate a full post to this magical city...But I would like to thank our lovely host, dear grandmother of a friend, who constantly doted on us, especially on Mister Azad (this is Slobodan's name in Iran for those hard of pronunciation--meaning the same thing in both Serbian and Persian: 'free'), cooked us food and made us laugh. She would ask me repeatedly: "Is Agha Azad ok? Isn't he bored? Poor thing can't understand us! What does Agha Azad want? Isn't he hungry?" And when Agha Azad danced Iranian style for the whole family one evening, they were shocked and thrilled, as he carried on dancing all night at times performing a one man show--showcasing his infamous 'snake' moves. "Irani hastam!" he would say with a cheesy grin.

After 3 days in Esfehan we went to Shiraz for some family fun. Night after night they spend together until the wee hours of the night during the entire 2 weeks - a phenomena laid-back (also known as lazy) Shirazis are famous for especially during the holidays. Sometimes we only started eating dinner at midnight, this of course preceded by loads of nuts, fruit and various snackies and followed by tea, sweets, poetry and singing.

Unfortunately, Shiraz was really too crowded to enjoy, especially given that the best thing about the city are not its sights but its poetic traditions, peaceful gardens and laid-back character, which were just destroyed by the chaotic crowds. One highlight however, was when my old grumpy uncle played backgammon with Mister Azad, and kept trying to cheat.

Back in Tehran, yesterday was "Sizdah Be Dar" (or "13th day, Outdoors!"), the last day of the 2 week Nowruz stretch. It truly felt like the first day of Spring here in Tehran. Traditionally on this day everyone goes outdoors for picnics and frolicking in parks with family and friends, good luck against the bad omen of the number '13'. Park Mellat, like all green areas of the city, near my house was teeming with picnickers, rollerbladers, people playing badminton, volleyball and football. Boys' shiny new spiky hairdos reached into the sky, and girls puffed out their bangs under shiny hejabs. Jubilant people licked on "meter" tall ice creams swirling high above cheap dainty cones. Inside the park, crowds swayed and clapped along to a live music performance blasting on a typically loud, bad sound system.


Wheat sprouts ('Sabzeh' - grown for the Nowruz altar, and set free into a body of water on this last day) littered the water canals and clogged up the waterways along with the trash. Street workers merely swept the trash downstream, only for it to inevitably get stuck somewhere causing a flood into Vali Asr. Some of the 'Sabzeh' were thrown into the streams still inside their heavy ceramic pots or dishes, sinking to the ground, and we even spotted a few thrown to the canal in a plastic sac! (Plastic, seen as a symbol of modernity, is very interesting here...I'm still trying to figure it out)

"Sabzeh" in Purgatory

Just as things were first coming into bloom, approaching the time of year Iran is most famous for, I had a thought. After that blistering winter, when Spring was miraculously reborn, I realized that homeless people must be the most happy for the arrival of this wonderful season. Because there is nothing like sleeping outside. And along with the frolicking, eating and lovemaking...there is of course the infamous spring napping...

"No Reading Please, Only Napping"

...Esfehan Post-lunch Naps...

Shiraz Shop-owner Napping

Post-Kabob Pass-Out
(I'm sure most Iranians are familiar with this concept)

Midday Napping in Esfehan's Bazaar

Doesn't he look comfortable?

Barber Shop Window Napping

Bacchus, Sound Asleep (rarrrr!)

PS

I know I haven't been around the last weeks, so please forgive me for not making calls or writing. You can say I was taking a long Spring nap. Sal-e No Mobarak to all my friends and family. We were always thinking of you...

Happy Spring Everyone