It makes 32 years that Iran was covered by a veil. Since then it has become more distant. Today we know little of the reality of this ancient people. It is supplied in an image of radical religiosity, a dictatorial state and an extremist people. Closed and suspicious of Westerners. That was not the image that I was offered me by those who have visited it. Supreme curious as I am, I had to discover what lay beneath the veil of my ignorance.
Tehran
It's loud, dark and polluted. The roar of the bikes rule the streets. They go everywhere - including the sidewalks - and to cross a zebra crossing is an adventure not suitable for the fainted heart. But this city has a vibe that at least doesn't leave you indifferent. Political capital, you feel that burden here. Perhaps in an unconscious level. The best example are the veils. You find one for every personality. Despite the legal requirement, this is challenged by a veil that covers only the end of the hair. Or is confirmed by the traditional veil, in which you don't see a tip of hair. A duality very present everywhere.
I was fortunate to know a little more of its life. An enormous gift from Mahdi. I realized that the "picturesque" - transit - becomes a hell for those who live here. I could be a "revolutionary" and wrote on one of the many sites that is censored - the facebook. And finished the night with a snack (sugar syrup sweet) you see for sale all over the city. I discovered also that Europe is a real stronghold. Even if only in tourism, it has become an almost impossible task to get visa if you were born in the wrong coordinates of this planet.
In visual terms is not a city that fills the eyes. Between the degraded and the compound, you find everything. An "everything" that comes wrapped in a haze of pollution and standardizes the city. A grayish brown broken only by the somewhat-colored signs of the shops. But this city "hides" something very special. Catch the subway and go out the north. I'm sure you will be with your mouth open. The view of the Alborz mountains is something unique. Perhaps the best postcard that Tehran can offer. They are authentic giants of rock and snow to watch over this city.
But Tehran has more to offer. Khomeini Square is the center of chaotic motion and high street shops. Also important avenues go out of it (such as Ferdosi, with its exchange offices and shop windows full of U.S. dollars). In the middle of the square a placard of the Iman leaves me amazed at the resemblance between him and Sean Connery. You should confirm this with your eyes. Very special for me was to see the graffiti Statue of Liberty with a skull face. Iconic image of anti-Americanism. A strange feeling I experienced, almost bittersweet. The mini-aqueducts separating the roads of the rides are another small detail of this city. Former channels carrying drinking water, they are now places where rain storm runs. With more than 30 cm, quickly you get used to be careful with them. If it doesn't call your attention at first, I am sure that the first shock of falling into it you'll never forget them.
Tehran is a great introduction to this country. The perfect place to start to lift the veil that conceals it. Finally, nothing better than smoking shisha with friends. The semi-clandestine place made me fear what lied behind the door. Inside a dimly lit room, filled with sofas covered with Persian tapestry and few hours of good conversation.
Shiraz
"I suspect you want to go to Persepolis..." tells me a man of dark complexion and youthful air. I ask myself "Is he a fortune teller?". The day before I left a parakeet dictate what Hafez had planned for me. He is one of the most celebrated poets in Iran. Every home should have a copy of Quran and Hafez. And, like the Lonely Planet says, I suspect it will be easier to find a copy of the work of Hafez. Is custom to make a wish, open the book at random and see what Hafez tells us. At the door of his tomb, some people have a set of verses, and for a small fee, we learn our fate - "fal" in Persian. The grave itself is a must visit in Shiraz. Contrasting with the raw look of the city, the grave is a beautiful and peaceful garden.
"You must be the driver ..." I reply. "Morteza" presents itself, delivering a card and an infectious smile. It could not be happier with whom would guide me to Persepolis. Morteza is the embodiment of Persian sympathy. Gentle, polite and very jovial. Along the road - through the mountains and that by itself fill the eyes - tells me how he is a friend of another Portuguese, also João, but in this case, Pedro. He describes the adventures of João and how he was kidnapped by the period of "the best 22 days of your life" between Pakistan and Iran
He goes on and tells me a little of his history of 62 years. How he was petrochemical worker in time of the Shah. And how, after the revolution, was fired for not being able to work with the mullahs. I see how this revolution has impacted his life, and that not always "revolution" has the best outcome. He leads me back to his youth and how the villagers drove the first cars. When he explained that they thought the rearviewmirror was just to straighten my hair, I cannot stop laughing. He is a true storyteller, and with his words I travel a bit for the country that no longer exists. Upon arriving at my destination, he helps me to buy my ticket to Persepolis.
And this place, despite half-naked, is a reminder that this is a land of great empires. The tomb of Artaxerxes makes me understand the choice of location. A wide plain is the perfect setting for the palace of a great empire. I wander a bit here and through other times. I wonder what the foreign commissions must have felt upon entering the grand staircase at its entrance. From the top, it would echo trumpets and exhibited, by sound, the strength of this empire.
After this visit to the past, I go to another time machine, Naqsh-e Rostam. It is the giant tombs of Darius I, II, Xerxes I and Artaxerxes I. We only managed to get a sense of its size when we see another human being - always looks tiny - looking astonished at it. One of several inscriptions seems a warning to limit Europe had. In a bas-relief the Persian king holds by the hand the Roman emperor, while another kneels. Here was Rome who paid homage to another great empire.
I return to the company of friendly Morteza, while going back to Shiraz. He gives me more information about the beautiful places this country has to offer. I explain him that I've seen the beautiful Masolo Aramgah and Shah-e-Cheraga, or that I got lost in the mysterious and infinte streets of the bazaars. Where it is impossible not to let your imagination guide you as you go adrift. The tapestry is dominant, cut only by the spices, perfumes and teas. I tell him I just am missing a local specialty - Faloodeh Shirazi, an ice cream. He takes me to the place that a friend suggested me. An ice cream parlor behind the fort that dominates the city center. This strong, austere on the outside but inside Delisio, marks the end of Zand Avenue - the road that cuts across the city. I say goodbye with a sense graditude, being sure that I could not have found a better person for me to convey what this city has to offer.
Isfahan
My mind is twisted. The normal iranian tour starts in Isfahan (ie if you do not want to stay in Tehran). I had to do the oppositee and end here. And in good time I did. Isfahan is the pearl of Persia. A city with lots of green spaces and a river that divides it into two parts (detail that jumps out after spending so much time without seeing water). Crossing that river are numerous bridges. Some modern, some with a rich history. The oldest - and the ones I liked the most - are the Si-o-Seh and Khaju. Both built in yellow brick typical of this region. They are bridges between the north-south, between reality and imagination. Beautiful places to stay and admire the beauty of the river and its banks Zayandeh. It is a city that goes on here. Between a road with trees, flowers and shrubs you find some statues, recreation and exercise machines. Beautiful...
But the corridors of trees remains in the main avenue - Chahar Bagh Abbasi. In its sides, the normal hustle and bustle of Iranian cities. Traffic, lots of shops and lots of movement and color. In their midst, a contrasting tranquility. From here you reach the Imam Square. A large, geometric square. Contains the best that Persia has to offer: the bazaar in the north, Iman mosque south, east and west Lotfollah Mosque Sheikh and Ali Qapu Palace. Its beauty lies not only in its monuments, but in how subtle decor, just torn by lust of thesemonuments, leaves us in a state of tranquility. Behind this square is a city that lives. A city that runs and moves. Here it seems to have a calmer rhythm and light.
A good place to go is the Bazaar. Places always conducive to imagination and to the satisfaction of our desire to observe. Every detail seduces us and will make you smile later when you remember them. And even lost in the middle of the closed streets, you end up in the oldest part of town. Here the scene is quite different from the waterfront. The yellow desert is dominant. This area consists of numerous narrow streets where we want to get lost. However - and under penalty of losing too much time getting somewhere - it's worth doing it in a not very "intense" way. Here is another time for letting go a "wow." This is the Jameh Mosque. A real tribute to the evolution of Islamic architecture. On the outside is completely unnoticed. But once inside, it is the time to contemplate all its splendour.
To complete the city there is nothing better than going to the Armenian Quarter. The way there leads us to the extensive Tohid Avenue. And in these parts, the modern coexists with the classic, the wide streets with narrow lanes. Walk up and find the stores that we used to see elsewhere (Apple, Adolfo Dominguez, Nike, Puma, Geox, etc ...). Here it has a different flavor. It's a place where we let go until our feet can endure. In a store, a sign, a flower, the color of a building, or simply the movement of the city, you find enough interest to stay.
Of course all this is wrapped up by the friendly locals. And at every opportunity they speak with you, help you or will try to understand you - even if the most common words are just a dozen. A sympathy that I will keep forever. A great gift, perhaps the biggest pearl that you can take with you.
And underneath the veil ...
... is a world that awaits you. Each city is unique. I remember the movement of Tehran, from Shiraz the sympathy and the tranquility of Isfahan. I leave with a feeling that I will return. I just lifted a little of the veil. And in that small space I found, above all, a wealth in people who crossed my path ...
