Why the Hell Did We Go To Iran?

28/08/2018 - 31/08/2018

With an ever increasing turbulent economy, USA sanctions, daily protests due to soaring unemployment and a dramatic drop in currency one would wonder and in fact did wonder why the hell we would travel to Iran of all the places we could have visited in the world on our trip and our answer was always the same…because we were curious to learn about the culture and it’s people.

When people think of the Middle East their thoughts often quickly turn to images of war, violence and religious extremists. Not the people. But on our first few days in Iran, exploring Tehran and having our first experience of couchsurfing with an awesome host all of our fears that might have lingered quickly dissipated. The country is full of people young and old just trying to live their daily lives. They laugh and cry together, eat dinner (on the floor!) together, go to school, go to work, listen to music, watch films, play sports, talk on WhatsApp and use Instagram. They are certainly not all angry men wearing turbans holding guns ready for war. We really wanted to go beyond the newspaper headlines and to meet these ordinary people who we had heard were one of the most hospitable in the world.

We arrived to Tehran early in the morning after an hour and a half flight from Baku, my hijab and loose fitting blouse at the ready that I had purchased the previous day in Baku ready to cover myself up. It’s the law in Iran that all women cover their hair with a scarf and wear a long tunic as to not expose their figure. Before we could enter the country we had to pay a visit to the visa immigration office and hand over €75 euro for the visa, the process taking about 1 hour and a half but a relatively painless one at that with no intimidating questions as to why we wanted to visit Iran from immigration police, something we were fully expecting.

Immediately getting on the metro from the airport we were met with long lingering stares of curiosity from local Iranians and getting off at our metro stop we were stopped for the first one of many photos we would be asked to get in with Iranian families. We were really not prepared for how foreign we seemed to looked in this country to the Iranian people and how famous we were to feel as we walked down the bustling streets of Tehran. I must admit, it was quite the culture shock for me seeing all the Iranian woman dressed from head to toe, some completely covered with a black chador, albeit all with beautiful faces immaculately covered in makeup but as much as they were curious about two pale westerns in their country, I was as equally completely intrigued by these beautiful mysterious woman dressed all in black.

That night after a hectic day traveling we paid a visit to the bustling Grand Bazaar split into several winding corridors spanning over 10Km in length where a huge variety of goods can be found and the smells of all the food and spices linger through the passageways. We were fooled into thinking we could spend an hour or two strolling through the bazaar as once again we were stopped several times for our photo with some overly excited teenagers and families . We never thought we’d know what it feels like to be Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie but now we have an insight! That evening we also paid a visit to ‘Bobi Sandz’ street or more commonly known to us Irish as ‘Bobby Sands’ , the famous IRA member who fought for Irish freedom and who died from hunger strike while imprisoned. Paul was well prepared for the visit, proudly pulling out his Irish Tricolour and getting a few snaps with the Irish hero’s street name thousands of miles from Ireland in Iran. A humbling gesture to our country from the Iranian people.

The next day we ventured to the utterly beautiful Golastan Palace, the former royal residence and one of the oldest historic monuments in the city boasting world heritage status. I immediately fell in love with the immensely colourful painted tiles and over the top glass interior with each corner having instagram worthy photo opportunities. My creative appetite was really set alight during this visit being the wonderful lover off all things colourful that I am and to top off our visit to the palace, to our delight we overheard the familiar voice of a fellow Irishman so hello to the woman from Brittas that we met that day!

On our way back to the hostel we visited the former USA embassy in Tehran, now a museum, to try and get a better understanding of the contemporary history of Iran and the events that transpired to carve the present day situation. Is it bad that I’m still a little bit confused?

Later that night and the following two days we were to have our first experience of couch-surfing, something we were eager to try, particularly in Iran to experience the so called famous hospitality of the people. We were apprehensive at first incase we would be greeted by some crazed maniac but that quickly dissipated when we were greeted by our fabulous host Masood at our hostel. He showed us some more beautiful sites in city on the way to his apartment such as the multi-coloured Tabiat bridge and the Tehran book garden, one of the biggest book stores in the world. That night back in Masoods place he told us the only rule of his house was to be free so from then on, sprawled on his couch, we chatted for hours while drinking copious amounts of chai about Ireland and Iranian culture. Surprisingly for us, couch surfing doesn’t necessarily mean you sleep on a couch as Masood kindly offered us his bedroom for the night.

The next morning after a photoshoot in Masood’s sitting room with our Irish flag and Irish passports to add to his collection, the plan was for us to take a road trip to his home town of Golpayegan in the Isfahan province, about a 5 hour drive away from Tehran. With his eclectic mix of music we started off on our journey passing through the industrial town of Arak and the holy city of Qom where only Paul could enter the Holy Hazrat Masoomeh shrine as I of course didn’t have a chador. For those who don't know as I didn’t know before I went to Iran, a chador is a large piece of cloth, usually black in colour wrapped around the woman's head and body only exposing the face.

I must admit we were nervous about meeting his family as we weren’t too sure on the etiquette of such a visit being a western unmarried couple but on arrival at his home we were greeted by the warm smile of his mother and sister who encouraged me to take off my head scarf off and my tunic and like Masood, wanted us both to be free. As much as we were nervous about meeting his family, I could sense they were just as nervous about meeting us but as the evening wore on and as we spent the evening conversing with his younger sister Nazila who spoke a little english and who that weekend had an english exam so we tried to help her study. His mother cooked us up a delicious traditional Iranian dish called Ash and we ate the Iranian way which is on the carpet floor in the middle of the sitting room, a new experience for us both and one in which Paul could only just about manage with his big dangly legs!

For the evening Masood proudly showed us his city along side his sister who like any other teenage girl wanted to know did I like fashion, music and jewellery. We had some great giggles and girly conversations with I thoroughly enjoyed! Unbeknownst to us, later that night we would be welcomed in his home by more of his curious family members who were keen on meeting the foreign pale Irish visitors. Very little English was known by his extended family but despite this an extremely pleasant evening of smiling and laughter was had by all and of course like any Irish mother would do for guests, more food and drink was placed on the floor for us all to eat. We were both utterly stuffed with food and chai by bed time!

The next day after a surprisingly comfortable sleep on the sitting room floor and after another huge breakfast, we explored more of Masood’s home town and surrounding area which he was immensely proud to share with us both and we were as equally interested in finding out about. Saying goodbye to his family, even only after spending one night with them, left a little tear tear in my eye as his mother gave me a tight embrace and kissed my cheek.

You see, we have realised after just a few days in Iran that this country is crying out to have its stories told and the people are dying to welcome all international visitors to its shores. It’s just a shame that western media has portrayed many prejudices and misconceptions. Thankfully, however we have learned during our time here so far to separate truth from fiction and facts from opinion and maybe you can too when the next person tells you they are going to the middle east.