shiraz.
arrival at the airport shiraz. as a service for the very unexperienced traveler some rules are provided on banners: no handshaking with women...
the start of my trip lacks a bit of smoothness. the arranged pickup from the hotel doesn't appear or appears and doesn't find me (hey, i'm not really hard to spot: the only western guy in the arrival hall, the only one with a red jacket, the only one with a green backpack). so i meet the people of the airport's police station, then the women at the somewhat hidden tourist information, have a call with the people at the guesthouse and finally take a taxi.
meeting people.
walk through the city. the people are far from being shy. every other minute people come to me: 'welcome, where you are from, why did you come to iran, do you like it here, what do you think of the persian people,...'. cool, it won't be hard to get in touch with people and learn something about the country that goes beyond sightseeing, taking pictures and devour on fesenjoon, shish kebab, goat cheese and pomegranate juice (that's my plan). after all, getting a better understanding of the people was the main reason not to do this trip with a group.
hilarious persian drive-by shouting.
apart from talking to people on the street i learn about a sport i'd describe as a special type of female drive-by shooting - let's call it 'persian drive-by shouting': i walk along the street or wait to cross it, car passes, window down, shouting out of the car 'i love you / marry me! /...' always followed by laughter or giggling, car gone,... chances are all this it not about me but the thrill of doing something forbidden. hilarious nevertheless. i guess i'm some sort of exotic specimen to them, it's probably nothing they would ever dare to do towards persian men.
there's also a male version: midnight. walking back to my hostel in a pitch dark alley. a car approaches behind me, stops next to me with screeching tires, window is going down. in a split second i try to judge the situation. in south america this is the moment when you run as fast as you can... too late... the driver screams at me 'welcome to iran!!!', laughs out loud, and drives off again.
'hitler good! arian brother!'
apart from these more or less romantic outbursts i have a first experience with the irritating 'hitler good! arian brother!' statement...
for some reason i'm identified most of the times as german. so i hear more than the usual 'welcome to iran':
- hitler good!
- what the fuck?!!!
- hitler good, arian brother.
- hitler was a maniac mass murderer, are you fucking crazy??
- german and iranians are brothers, we're arians.
- that's a misunderstanding... arian is originally a people from the persian high plateau, language scientists falsely used the term to explain an origin of indogermanic languages. germanic people and persians are not related. and then hitler abused the term again in a racist context. get it?
- ?
- never mind, we're not really brothers and hitler was a devil. good look.
... sometimes i got tired of that topic, skipped the lecture and waved more or less politely. some people are from the left side of the gaussian curve and there's little hope of a migration into the non-moron area.
hafiz mausoleum.
it's a place of pilgrimage (some people are citing his poems at the grave, a women is singing) and a place to see and be seen (every one is properly dressed up). interesting to watch. ...don't ask, more funny hello-ing (this time pedestrian style without cars, more a walk-by talking than drive-by shouting).
nasir ol molk mosque.
my favorite spot of the trip. very early start to be the first to get some panoramas without people, unfortunately light conditions are not perfect so early but the architecture is impressive, especially the prayer hall with its windows and the ornamented ceilling. the moment the light shines through the glass the colours literally explode. understandably this place has a simple equation: more light, more people.
spot a stunning woman in the crowd. bahar (as i learn later). luckily she's kind enough to allow me to take some portraits of her. 2nd day and the best the picture of the trip is already done. ...and my prejudice is confirmed: persian women have the best phenotype on this planet.
in the evening one of these typical encounters in a restaurant: i feed myself on the local delicacies. a family at the table next to me. maybe i looked desperate to them (because i couldn't eat as much as i wanted?), maybe it was simply an act of persian politeness. they ask me to join them. so i have a highly entertaining evening with parsa and his wife mina and learn from the pros about mining and shiraz' dernier cri of interior design.
vakil mosque.
spend an hour to take a single panorama (of 400 pictures). people come and go. i stay. patience is needed. compared to the opulence of the nasir ol molk mosque it looks simple but it has its own impressive style.
vakil bazar.
find a place at the vakil mosque for a desperately needed cappuccino. a round through the bazar. the spice stands are a chef's dream, women are more drawn to the cloth department. another panorama at a crossing. people are amused about my patience, why would somebody spend an hour of his life to get a single picture? my answer: to get a single picture. just a woman is not amused. she's freaking out that she has to walk around the tripod with all her shopping bags. i don't understand her farsi mumbling but i have a feeling she's not really praising my blue eyes.
sayyed alaeddin hossein mosque.
from the outside it doesn't look special. but once you enter: wham! pure opulence. colours, glass, mirrors. you don't have to like that style but it's impressive. i get a free personal guided tour, in every room the turn the light is turned on so i can take pictures.
shah-e-cheragh mausoleum.
shiraz's most important place of pilgrimage. but i can't say much about it, as i was not allowed to enter the shrine.
eram garden.
another nice place to escape the heat.
the start of my trip lacks a bit of smoothness. the arranged pickup from the hotel doesn't appear or appears and doesn't find me (hey, i'm not really hard to spot: the only western guy in the arrival hall, the only one with a red jacket, the only one with a green backpack). so i meet the people of the airport's police station, then the women at the somewhat hidden tourist information, have a call with the people at the guesthouse and finally take a taxi.
meeting people.
walk through the city. the people are far from being shy. every other minute people come to me: 'welcome, where you are from, why did you come to iran, do you like it here, what do you think of the persian people,...'. cool, it won't be hard to get in touch with people and learn something about the country that goes beyond sightseeing, taking pictures and devour on fesenjoon, shish kebab, goat cheese and pomegranate juice (that's my plan). after all, getting a better understanding of the people was the main reason not to do this trip with a group.
hilarious persian drive-by shouting.
apart from talking to people on the street i learn about a sport i'd describe as a special type of female drive-by shooting - let's call it 'persian drive-by shouting': i walk along the street or wait to cross it, car passes, window down, shouting out of the car 'i love you / marry me! /...' always followed by laughter or giggling, car gone,... chances are all this it not about me but the thrill of doing something forbidden. hilarious nevertheless. i guess i'm some sort of exotic specimen to them, it's probably nothing they would ever dare to do towards persian men.
there's also a male version: midnight. walking back to my hostel in a pitch dark alley. a car approaches behind me, stops next to me with screeching tires, window is going down. in a split second i try to judge the situation. in south america this is the moment when you run as fast as you can... too late... the driver screams at me 'welcome to iran!!!', laughs out loud, and drives off again.
'hitler good! arian brother!'
apart from these more or less romantic outbursts i have a first experience with the irritating 'hitler good! arian brother!' statement...
for some reason i'm identified most of the times as german. so i hear more than the usual 'welcome to iran':
- hitler good!
- what the fuck?!!!
- hitler good, arian brother.
- hitler was a maniac mass murderer, are you fucking crazy??
- german and iranians are brothers, we're arians.
- that's a misunderstanding... arian is originally a people from the persian high plateau, language scientists falsely used the term to explain an origin of indogermanic languages. germanic people and persians are not related. and then hitler abused the term again in a racist context. get it?
- ?
- never mind, we're not really brothers and hitler was a devil. good look.
... sometimes i got tired of that topic, skipped the lecture and waved more or less politely. some people are from the left side of the gaussian curve and there's little hope of a migration into the non-moron area.
hafiz mausoleum.
it's a place of pilgrimage (some people are citing his poems at the grave, a women is singing) and a place to see and be seen (every one is properly dressed up). interesting to watch. ...don't ask, more funny hello-ing (this time pedestrian style without cars, more a walk-by talking than drive-by shouting).
nasir ol molk mosque.
my favorite spot of the trip. very early start to be the first to get some panoramas without people, unfortunately light conditions are not perfect so early but the architecture is impressive, especially the prayer hall with its windows and the ornamented ceilling. the moment the light shines through the glass the colours literally explode. understandably this place has a simple equation: more light, more people.
spot a stunning woman in the crowd. bahar (as i learn later). luckily she's kind enough to allow me to take some portraits of her. 2nd day and the best the picture of the trip is already done. ...and my prejudice is confirmed: persian women have the best phenotype on this planet.
in the evening one of these typical encounters in a restaurant: i feed myself on the local delicacies. a family at the table next to me. maybe i looked desperate to them (because i couldn't eat as much as i wanted?), maybe it was simply an act of persian politeness. they ask me to join them. so i have a highly entertaining evening with parsa and his wife mina and learn from the pros about mining and shiraz' dernier cri of interior design.
vakil mosque.
spend an hour to take a single panorama (of 400 pictures). people come and go. i stay. patience is needed. compared to the opulence of the nasir ol molk mosque it looks simple but it has its own impressive style.
vakil bazar.
find a place at the vakil mosque for a desperately needed cappuccino. a round through the bazar. the spice stands are a chef's dream, women are more drawn to the cloth department. another panorama at a crossing. people are amused about my patience, why would somebody spend an hour of his life to get a single picture? my answer: to get a single picture. just a woman is not amused. she's freaking out that she has to walk around the tripod with all her shopping bags. i don't understand her farsi mumbling but i have a feeling she's not really praising my blue eyes.
sayyed alaeddin hossein mosque.
from the outside it doesn't look special. but once you enter: wham! pure opulence. colours, glass, mirrors. you don't have to like that style but it's impressive. i get a free personal guided tour, in every room the turn the light is turned on so i can take pictures.
shah-e-cheragh mausoleum.
shiraz's most important place of pilgrimage. but i can't say much about it, as i was not allowed to enter the shrine.
eram garden.
another nice place to escape the heat.