A Glimpse of Another World

One of the things I wanted to do most here was go camping
and trekking. Upon expressing those desires to my family, they simply laughed at the silly notion of me wanting to do anything by myself, much less in the wilderness, and have since informed me that I am legally unable
to do so, and must be accompanied by family or a
guide, because I am a woman. This was less than
uplifting news to me, as my list of limitations in what
I can do with my six months here seems to be growing at
the rate of the population in hell. So I wondered, what do people here actually do?

Weekends, here, are Friday. That’s it. It’s quite
sad, I know. So on Thursday afternoon, my cousin took me to this
famous coffee shop to talk about
my trip to Turkey, and trips I wanted to take around Iran. We walked into
the café and I immediately smiled upon hearing the
familiar sounds of Coldplay. Interestingly, this was
a CD of Coldplay covers done by what sounded like
Tibetan monks chanting and humming. It was incendiary. I hadn’t drunken any caffeinated drinks for
three weeks, as hangovers are not an issue for me here,
nor is doing anything which requires early mornings.
My first espresso after such a long abstinence nearly
killed me. For six hours I felt like my heart was
palpitating so fast that it was on the verge of flying
right out of my chest. As I gazed at the stacks of
antique books lining the walls of the café and tried
to suppress my looming heart attack, my cousin and I
got down to the business at hand.

After much debate with my family, I have
begrudgingly conceded to do most of my traveling with
the assistance of a tour group. This is,
unfortunately, the only way I am legally and feasibly
allowed to travel about the country as a single
Iranian woman. Seeing my disappointment in the limitations I would have to encounter traveling here, my cousin, being the most fluent in English out of all my
family, took it upon himself to explain to me
some ways in which Iran is different from the US and
why I can’t do certain things here that I can do in
the states. I was shocked to discover that in
thanking the waiter for my espresso, he had probably
perceived my acknowledging him as a come-on. When a
woman looks a man in the eyes, they also perceive that
as a come-on. I guess that is why most women walk
around with their heads down here. Also, it is
apparently common knowledge here that if a woman is
standing alone on a street corner, she is a
prostitute. So all those times that I had to leave
the house to smoke my cigarette on the street corner
because it’s not good for women to smoke in front of
elders, I was getting millions of stares not because I
look like a tourist, but because everyone thought I
was a prostitute! Supposedly prostitution is big here
and a lot of girls run away from their families
because of the social restrictions, but they soon find
out that they have no other choice but to sell their
bodies to survive. The choices for women in the
workforce are so few, even though there are more
educated women than there are men here. Women cannot
work in any service jobs, so that eliminates a ton of
jobs for young women right there. They can work in
some womens clothing stores but even then, most of
those jobs are taken by men, too. This is unfortunate
because in these cases, you can’t try on the clothes
that you want to buy because there are men there. You
just have to hope that they fit you, which is totally
ridiculous, as it is such a hassle going to the mall
anyway. My first time in a mall here was quite
hilarious as I hadn’t learned about the trying on
clothes restriction and when I asked them where the
dressing room was, they just shook their heads “no.” In a
lapse of self control, I loudly blurted out “what do
you mean, ‘NO’?!” They soon realized that I was a
tourist with no concept of their rules regarding
buying clothes. After a little coaxing, they actually
let me go to the back room to try the clothes on, an extremely sweet gesture.

I also learned from my cousin what my name on my
passport, Neda Seyed Mahmoud Baraghani, means. "Neda" apparently
means "good voice," "Baraghani" is derived from a village
in Iran called Baraghan where, I suppose, my ancestors
came from, and the "Seyed" part means that I am a direct
descendant of the prophet Mohammad. I don’t know what
the Mahmoud part means yet, but it is mind boggling to me that
I’m a descendant of one of the most famous prophets in
the world, especially considering my aversion to
religion of any sort.

After the tutorial at the coffee shop, we ventured to the home of my cousin’s friend. There were a couple of
guys and one girl there. They are all a little older
than me and are freelance tour guides so they do a lot
of traveling, especially in India and China. One of
the guys resembled some sort of happy Buddha character. It
made me giggle just looking at him. They were incredibly
obsessed with India, and upon hearing that I am
visiting from America, immediately inquired as to why
I didn’t go to India instead of Iran. They were especially delighted with the fact that in India, you can supposedly smoke
weed in front of police offices there without fear of penalty. It was then that I realized I was having my first encounter with Iranian stoners, my cousin being exempt from this group, for what reason I do not know. It perplexed them as much as it did me. Now I have to say, I felt a different vibe going into that house, as if all the worries and frantic nature of the city had lifted from this tiny little apartment and now I knew why. They seemed...relaxed! And happy! I know this seems like an odd thing to say but the general vibe of Iranians is basically the opposite of relaxed. Everyone seems to be worried about something, be it themselves or others - usually others. The
excitement of actually hanging out with worry-free, interesting, happy people, and them truly being hilarious, had me
giggling and smiling the whole time I was there. They told
me about their travels in India, I told them about
mine in Patagonia, and we talked about eating
dog and scorpion in China. It was such an amazing time. We left with hugs and
kisses.

Afterward I felt invigorated, which is what meeting people will do when you're best friend for the past month has been an eighty year old obsessive compulsive grandmother. We left the happy house and my cousin decided to
drive me around the mountains so that I could see the
whole city. It was the time of day right before
sunset when the weather is cool but the light is
strong. It came in at an angle right above the
mountains and just beamed magic onto the whole city.
Somehow, the smog, and rubble, the construction, and
everything else that makes Tehran a bit unsightly
dissipated to reveal this shining white sparkling
kingdom. It was totally magical and I just gaped in
awe happily at its beauty.