Iran

Backpacking through Iran was one of the most intense and rewarding travel experiences we have ever had. Never before have we visited a country where so many people were this geniously happy to meet us. We got invited to share the locals' homes and food, we spent nights in the cold mountains and days in the scoulding desert, we witnessed freedom and opression, we soaked up the atmosphere of the muezzin calling for morning prayer in the courtyard of Isfahan's Jāmeh Mosque.

Let me start this off by addressing all the people who worried about us when we told them we were traveling to / in Iran: No, we didn't get robbed or killed. No, we weren't captured and sold to Isis. No, they didn't put us in jail and no, we didn't receive a single whip lash. In fact there wasn't a single moment during our three-and-a-half-week-long journey in which we didn't feel safe and utterly secure. On the contrary: the people in this country are tremendously friendly and almost rediculously forthcoming.

Iranians will overcome any language barrier and cultural difference to proof their hospitality and generosity. We only spent a few nights in hostels and guesthouses; the other nights we spent in the homes of Iranian locals who picked us up off the streets or invited us to couch-surf. They took us to far away places and shared unique experiences which we wouldn't have seen or had without them. They shared their food and their stories, they took us in as their own.

From the first day on we spent time with locals rather than with fellow travelers. Take Mohammad Reza and his family who took two days off their normal routine to show us around Teheran. Take Mona and her husband Amir who rounded off our Tehran experience with a perfect evening at Tabiaat bridge.

Take Metty who grew up in Canada and seemed to be torn between the East and West. His incredible insight into both, this new environment as well as our western culture made for one of the most interesting evenings we had in Iran.

Take Amir, a tremendously talented photographer who took us out of Yazd and into Iran's surprisingly divers countryside. We spent three days talking about music and images, taking pictures and shooting videos. Many photographs you see on this blog, including the key visuals, were taken when stopping on the road from Yazd to Shar-e-Babak.

Take DJ and carpet shop owner Ramin, his wife Mana, his mom Tahereh, his sister Roya, her son Shahrad and their dog Remix. We were introduced by Amir who was Ramins best friend and colleague (Ramin was helping Amir to land and complete jobs as a photographer from time to time). We ended up spending three days in Ramin's luxurious flat which had a built-in recording studio and a home cinema including a PS4.

Take Reza, a dentist from Shiraz who had all episodes of Britain's Got Talent TiVoed and took us to a five star hotel for a fabulous and surprisingly cheap vegetarian buffet.

Take Foad who showed us that Kurdistan is a nation of 40 million people with a rich culture and heritage that is somehow not allowed to be. He got us in touch with Kurdish musician and Kurdistan's Got Talent judge Hamid Haseli who taught me about the basic scales of Kurdish folk music. And he showed us around the atelier of Kurdish artist Hadi Ziaoddin who had a street and a squate named after him in Sanandaj, the capital of non-existing Kurdistan.

Take Mohammad Reza (no, not the guy from before) and his group of friends. They picked us up on a hike through the Kurdish villages in Howraman Valley and drove us through Kurdistan in their party bus full of architecture students.

And last but not least: take Milad who invited us to Tabriz, the largest city in the Iranian province of Azerbaijan (confusing, isn't it?!) and showed us yet another culture and language alongside the biggest Bazar in the world. He and his friend were the only people we met who would pick up garbage off the streets to make their country a little cleaner.

In all that time we didn't meet a single person who had prejudices against Foreigners or Westerners. But we did meet people who felt deeply ashamed because of the image their political and religious leaders had created in the West. In the same vein it was quite painful for us when we realized that we had willingly absorbed the one-dimensional media coverage on Iran and its foreign policies. We learned that politics don't mean anything at all when strangers from different cultures greet each other with a smile on their faces.

To be honest, these experiences were what made visiting Iran so very special for us. They produced the images that will remain in our heads, even though we did visit some spectacular sights. It does seem quite impersonal to write about this though. It's probably better if you read about sightseeing in Iran in a proper guide book...

We found that very city has one or two mosques worth seeing, a shrine and / or Hamam, a Bazar and a garden. After the third city it all becomes one pretty and indistinguishable blur of colorful mosaic tiles.

So you needn't worry if you can't make it to every single sight advertised in your guide book. However, a few things stood out of the haze. The archeological site at Persepolis was quite spectacular and so were the mountains in Kurdistan's Howraman Valley. Our highlight was Naqsh-e Jahan Square in Esfahan with the Shah and Sheikh Lotf Allah Mosques and the Ali Qapu Palace. And the Jāmeh Mosque mosque at the north end of the city's bazar. We caught the Muezzin calling for prayer and it was a breathtaking experience. It goes without saying that we strongly recommend you go there and see this for yourself!

When traveling in Iran it is wise not be vegetarian or vegan. Seriously, we couldn't count the times we had some sort of Kabab, the Iranian's default food. They prepare it either with meat (beef, veil or lamb) or chicken (which in Iran is not considered meet and thus served to foreign vegetarians if they don't pay attention). As side dishes they serve huge amounts of rice (which is the most exciting when there's pistacios, pomgranade or safran in it) and something they call vegetables. It's a little basket of fresh herbs (mint, thai basil and something that tastes like anis) and raw onion that is eaten with the Kabab. Asking for a proper salat mostly got us nowhere. They don't really eat salad in this country with the exception of special salad bars and vegetarian buffets. Most of the time we got a shockingly small plate with a few leaves of lettuce, a few pieces of tomato and a slice of cucumber on it.

However, they do have a lot more exciting foods in this country. In Esfahan we had a greenish-yellow stew that was sticky like chewing gum and tasted like meat and vegetable stew with yoghurt and onions. In Teheran we tasted a mash of mostly eggplant and some spices which became our favorite meal without meat. In Sanandaj we had a mash of oatmeal with meat and cinnamon (oatmeal + meat = oatmeat) which was kind of hard to eat at 7 in the morning. Our favorite food was Dizzy, a kind of soup with meat, bacon, tomatoes and chickpeas put in a pot. To eat it they tare a bread to shreds and soak it in the soup's spicy water. After finishing most of it they mash the meat and vegetables that are left in the pot and add it to the leftover bread-soup. Writing about this I realize that it does sound a little weird. But you should definetely try it if you ever get the chance. It's thoroughly good!

After a few days we thought that we had finally figured our the whole thing with the religious rules for everyday life. It looked as though people were way more liberal than expected. And as though obeying a few simple rules in public would suffice to be left alone by the authorities. In private, on the other hand, we learned that anything was possible. We tasted self-made wine and got drunk in a village on self made schnapps (Arag). We got high at a salt lake in the middle of the desert and passed on an opium offer.

Just when we thought we had gotten the hang of the whole be-yourself-at-home-but-be-prude-in-public-thing we heard the story of a group of students who were celebrating their graduation with a private party in a village near Kerman. They got arrested for all sorts of "inappropriate" behavior and were sentenced to receiving 99 whip lashes each. The story even made it to the German Media (read about it on Spiegel Online). Reading about it certainly brought the caution and the insecurity back.

We saw people breakdancing in the park and running like a bunch of rabbits when the police suddenly showed up. We were paid a visit by the moral police who told us to refrain from having any fun whatsoever when some Kurdish students showed us a traditional dance in a parking lot near a lake. Those were indeed weird moments and tough pills to swallow. The luxury of being able to do and say as one pleases had never been as striking as in these situations. Even more so as for our Iranian friends being picked up by the (moral) police could mean going to prison, receiving draconian punishments and even putting future job opportunities and marriage prospects in jeopardy.

Luckily, these immanent dangers remained a vague notion the entire time we spent in Iran. Apart from the both of us having to wear long cloths and Lea having to wear a scarf as a hijab the strict rules of the Iranian society didn't seem to affect us much.

Still, some customs, traditions and behavioral trades left us startled, so we collected some stories to round this off. We heard stories about deeply religious people who got married temporarily and stayed together for 15 minutes to 99 years so they could get laid in a religious brothel or via an Internet dating site. We attended an Iranian wedding where the women and the men were separated and only danced among themselves. We learned that Iranian men have to do two years of military service before they get a passport to travel outside of Iran and very few other countries.

We saw that the privileged bend the rules until they vanish while the not-so-privileged ache to leave the country in search for a better shot at life. At some point we stopped counting the times we were asked about the prospects of going to Germany and other parts of Europe and building a life there. In these situations explaining the European policies on immigration in the light of the ongoing refugee crisis felt unbelievably sarcastic and cruel. It felt like we were denying something that for us had always been a pleasant fact of life.