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  • Only Half A World Away

    ONLY HALF A WORLD AWAY

    Otago Daily Times
    Tue, 11 Aug 2009

    Travel

    Craftsmen work with a sheet of silver in a bazaar. Photo by Rebekah
    Gray. When Rebekah Gray and Jimmy Kershaw-North declared they were
    going to Iran, people decided they were nuts.

    "Isn't it full of terrorists?" people asked when we told them we were
    going to Iran.

    Variations included "don't they oppress women?" and "isn't it all
    just desert?" When we arrived back in New Zealand, the questions were
    about whether we had become caught up in the recent protests before
    and after the presidential elections.

    The answer to all of these questions is a resounding "no".

    We travelled to Iran mainly to visit friends who have spent time in
    New Zealand.

    They are fluent in English, which made our life so much easier.

    However, the number of people who have never left Iran but who have
    good conversation skills in English is quite surprising.

    Also, all the major road signs are in English as well as Farsi
    (Persian).

    As a result, we didn't feel as if we had landed in the middle of
    nowhere.

    The main city we stayed in was Esfahan - a city as majestic and
    splendid as it gets.

    It is considered a jewel in the Islamic world.

    Indeed, there is a saying "Esfahan nesf-e jahan", which translates as
    "Esfahan is half the world".

    There are amazing mosques with beautiful blue tiles and amazing
    acoustics.

    However, one of the most memorable experiences we had in the city
    was when we found a goldsmith in a back alley of the Bazar-e Honar,
    or the jewellery bazaar, making the most intricate 22-carat gold
    cross I had ever seen.

    It had taken him about 100 hours to make and was a commission for a
    local Armenian Christian merchant.

    The estimated cost was about $NZ260.

    The handicraft in and around the Imam Square bazaar is world famous.

    You see men, with their sons beside them, hand-beating silver
    platters or bowls into intricate patterns and pictures, women and
    men painting enamel plates with fine skill, and all of them welcoming
    the opportunity to show their wares and abilities.

    In a world dominated by objects made in China, it was refreshing to
    see so many skilled craftsmen and women displaying their work.

    We would sometimes see women making the carpets for which Iran and
    ancient Persia are so famous.

    A tip, though, for buying carpets: all prices are negotiable.

    We saved about $NZ1000 by getting our Iranian friend to get one for
    us while we were out of sight.

    As soon as carpet sellers saw we were tourists, they would put the
    price up by about $NZ1000.

    Also keep in mind that not all carpets are hand-knotted or naturally
    dyed.

    Outside Esfahan, we were invited into many people's homes.

    The hospitality was amazing.

    We had to get used to hot, black tea (chay) served with wafer-thin
    toffee discs or cubes of sugar to suck on.

    One particularly memorable occasion was when we were invited to a
    "garden" in the village of Jamal, about an hour east of Esfahan,
    seemingly in the middle of a desert.

    We turned up and were promptly adopted by the wife of our host,
    who with no English welcomed us warmly into her home.

    It consisted of a mud-brick room with enough electricity to power a
    cellphone charger, one light bulb, a fridge and a small radio.

    Water for tea was heated on a charcoal samovar and food cooked on a
    charcoal barbecue.

    The toilet was a hole in the ground at the end of the garden and
    water for washing hands came from barrels with taps in the side,
    filled with rain- and spring-water.

    The garden, like at any home in Iran, was surrounded by a 2m-high
    mud-brick wall but had enough fruit trees to afford shade for the
    heat of the day.

    It was surprisingly cool under those mulberry trees, as the breeze
    blew softly through them.

    After lunch, it was OK to fall asleep on a carpet set aside just for
    us, as the heat determined the speed of life in the village.

    Our host's wife then took us to a shrine for an Imam Zadeh (the son of
    a revered person) where, using our limited Farsi and some interesting
    sign language, we were told that a prayer to Allah and the imam will
    help worshippers who want children.

    The gratitude of our hosts was almost overwhelming when we donated
    a little money to the shrine.

    We were also taken to the source of drinking water for the village -
    a spring halfway up the side of a mountain that had surprisingly cold
    and clear water.

    It was, after the hike, completely refreshing.

    We went to another village outside the city, Shahr-e-kord, which was
    nestled among the Zagros mountains in the western part of central Iran.

    We were again adopted by our host's wife, who demonstrated how to
    make bread for the family, as well as yoghurt and butter from the
    local goats' milk.

    We tried making the flatbread that is a staple of all meals in this
    part of Iran.

    There is certainly a knack to it.

    We were also shown how wool from the local sheep is made into
    mattresses and told that the wife of our host handmade these for her
    daughter's dowry.

    Everywhere we went the same question was asked: "So, what do you
    think of Iran?" People wanted to engage with us.

    They wanted to practise their English and find out what the rest of
    the world thinks of this country between Europe and Asia.

    But, most of all they wanted to laugh and sing and dance with the
    funny foreigners.

    The country's Government is widely vilified, but we found Iran's
    people to be incredibly relaxed, welcoming and almost overwhelming
    in their hospitality and their eagerness to please.

    It has incredible landscapes, a rich and ancient history and untold
    richness in its craftsmen and women.

    Maybe we are a little nuts, but we like Iran and wouldn't mind visiting
    again sometime. - Rebekah Gray and Jimmy Kershaw-North.
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