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| Our floating candles bobbing on the Ganga River |
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| Pakistani jingle truck with extra seating available! |
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| Just leaving an Iranian bush camp |
Wednesday, 27 June 2012
Some pics
Thursday, 21 June 2012
Mother India
Arriving in India was like someone switching on the lights. We were welcomed by the fantastic closing ceremony at the border of India and Pakistan where both sides of the gate seem to compete with each other to prove which is the best country. All of a sudden there were hundreds of people, at least half of whom were women, wearing beautiful bright colours and showing areas of skin and smiling and full of life. Once inside the ceremonial area there was loud music and dancing on the street and I can't tell you what a welcome assault on the senses this was! After such a quiet time hidden away in the truck transiting through Pakistan we were suddenly reminded that life is a celebration and it was a lively (if somewhat short) party. There were hundreds of people in this area and a compere shouting at everyone, getting the crowd all riled up to shout and cheer responses to his prompts. At times is was in direct competition with the Pakistan side who were crowded together just across the gate from us, we shout then they shout then we shout louder so they shout louder and so this continues. During all this the guards participate in their daily ritual of marching about in their cockerel-like hats, doing their joint-popping head kicks and trying to look tough against the Pakistan side who were partaking in similar activities. A very strange event and yet a loud and happy cry of Indian pride. This was the best way to start our Indian adventure, I immediately felt that I could love this country.
Our first couple of days were spent in Amritsar, the border city, doing a combination of touristy sightseeing and reacquainting ourselves with the 7 of truckers who had not been granted Pakistani visas and had come to India nearly 2 weeks earlier. Indian tuctucs and rickshaws are a great way to travel within a city and so we made the most of these heart-stopping adventure rides around the place. The main stop in Amritsar is the Golden Temple which is a stunning display of religious opulence. A huge rectangular building encompasses a small lake with a walkway down the middle leading to a golden temple. As with all the large temples in India food is offered to everyone and thousands of people a day are fed on the dhal and chapatis provided here. A hoard of volunteers spend their free time making the food, serving it and cleaning the dishes, everyone is welcome as their religion is about sharing. After a fairly long queue we got into the temple itself, a beautiful little place with more volunteers sitting around playing instruments or directing the hoards of people in a bid to keep the traffic flowing. The surrounding water is of course blessed and many people bathe in it or take some in a bottle to use elsewhere.
Leaving Amritsar we headed up into the hills aiming for McLeodganj above Dharamsala. As we drove along the side of the road seemed to be home to masses of nondescript weeds, however on a closer looke these are not weeds plural but in fact just weed! Miles and miles of marjuana plants at the side of the road, is it any coincidence that we are heading in the hippy infested hills, to a place with a name ending in ganj?! McLeodganj is the Indian home of the Dalai Lama who fled here in exile in the 1940s, he brought with him a government and was also followed by thousands of refugees. For this reason this part of the land is very much like a little Tibet. There are Tibetan restaurants, Buddhist temples, a monastery and monks floating about all over the place, there are also regular yoga and meditation sessions and chances to join Tibetan music sessions. I loved the feel of this place, the atmosphere is very relaxed although this can of course be completely shattered in a second as you can never go far in India without the sound of horns piercing through the air! The other amazing part is the view! McLeodganj brought me my first view of the Himalayas and what a breathtaking view it is! To wake up in the morning and be greeted by the stunning hills around us and in the distance 2 snowy rocky peaks reaching up to the sky, a guaranteed smile for the eyes.
Unfortunately however, it's difficult to make it through India without getting some form of stomach upset and McLeodganj is the place that sent me running for the bathroom, not just me but my roommate as well. You don't need all the details but my last night here was one of my worst night's ever. Throughout Pakistan and India the power often goes off a couple of times a day, this wouldn't have been a problem, where we were it would appear that they switch the water off through the night, this is not very pleasant when you have two people sharing a room and both of them are very ill through the night but there is no water to flush the toilet or rinse the sink! We were ok to travel though and I slept almost the entire journey that day, slept on the truck at that night's bushcamp and was grateful when we reached our hotel room in Delhi with air conditioning.
I spent most of Delhi recovering in bed but did manage to go out for a few hours on a morning walking tour run by the childrens charity The Salaam Baalak Trust. It was a good wee tour taking us around some streets, they showed us where the children can go for a few hours assistance and also one of their homes where the short term children can stay. There are some really sad stories coming out of India but this charity does a lot of great work with the children. One of the streets they took us to was a tiny little alley way with religious tiles stuck on to the wall, they look quite out of place. The alley used to be a regular toilet stop and so the authorities placed these religious tiles because the locals cannot urinate in from of God and so the alley is now clean and safe to walk through. Delhi was way too hot and coupling that with being ill has meant that I didn't really enjoy my experience here and have little to say about it which is a shame but we must move on.
It's funny how much of India seems to be used just as a public bathroom. Everywhere we drive you can see people standing or squatting near the road. The other great annoyance is the litter, it's everywhere!! Great mounds of rubbish, scattered pieces rubbish, or even clumps where the litter has been swept into a pile and then just left there. The overriding scents of India are rubbish and toilets! Many places still have open sewers on the streets, some have closed sewers but then they flood out at a river and the whole place smells so bad. Then you have all the random street animals roaming around and eating from the litter piles, there are dogs, goats, boar and cows all sitting in or feeding from litter. Their poor sacred cows get to spend their lives wondering around towns and cities, not a blade of grass in sight, they wonder along the streets getting tooted at and feeding from dumped poly bags and food containers. The dogs and boar lie in the mud or sewage to cool down in the afternoon sun, it really is a dog's life!!
Next stop is Jaipur, home of the recent British film the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, I have high hopes for this place.
Our first couple of days were spent in Amritsar, the border city, doing a combination of touristy sightseeing and reacquainting ourselves with the 7 of truckers who had not been granted Pakistani visas and had come to India nearly 2 weeks earlier. Indian tuctucs and rickshaws are a great way to travel within a city and so we made the most of these heart-stopping adventure rides around the place. The main stop in Amritsar is the Golden Temple which is a stunning display of religious opulence. A huge rectangular building encompasses a small lake with a walkway down the middle leading to a golden temple. As with all the large temples in India food is offered to everyone and thousands of people a day are fed on the dhal and chapatis provided here. A hoard of volunteers spend their free time making the food, serving it and cleaning the dishes, everyone is welcome as their religion is about sharing. After a fairly long queue we got into the temple itself, a beautiful little place with more volunteers sitting around playing instruments or directing the hoards of people in a bid to keep the traffic flowing. The surrounding water is of course blessed and many people bathe in it or take some in a bottle to use elsewhere.
Leaving Amritsar we headed up into the hills aiming for McLeodganj above Dharamsala. As we drove along the side of the road seemed to be home to masses of nondescript weeds, however on a closer looke these are not weeds plural but in fact just weed! Miles and miles of marjuana plants at the side of the road, is it any coincidence that we are heading in the hippy infested hills, to a place with a name ending in ganj?! McLeodganj is the Indian home of the Dalai Lama who fled here in exile in the 1940s, he brought with him a government and was also followed by thousands of refugees. For this reason this part of the land is very much like a little Tibet. There are Tibetan restaurants, Buddhist temples, a monastery and monks floating about all over the place, there are also regular yoga and meditation sessions and chances to join Tibetan music sessions. I loved the feel of this place, the atmosphere is very relaxed although this can of course be completely shattered in a second as you can never go far in India without the sound of horns piercing through the air! The other amazing part is the view! McLeodganj brought me my first view of the Himalayas and what a breathtaking view it is! To wake up in the morning and be greeted by the stunning hills around us and in the distance 2 snowy rocky peaks reaching up to the sky, a guaranteed smile for the eyes.
Unfortunately however, it's difficult to make it through India without getting some form of stomach upset and McLeodganj is the place that sent me running for the bathroom, not just me but my roommate as well. You don't need all the details but my last night here was one of my worst night's ever. Throughout Pakistan and India the power often goes off a couple of times a day, this wouldn't have been a problem, where we were it would appear that they switch the water off through the night, this is not very pleasant when you have two people sharing a room and both of them are very ill through the night but there is no water to flush the toilet or rinse the sink! We were ok to travel though and I slept almost the entire journey that day, slept on the truck at that night's bushcamp and was grateful when we reached our hotel room in Delhi with air conditioning.
I spent most of Delhi recovering in bed but did manage to go out for a few hours on a morning walking tour run by the childrens charity The Salaam Baalak Trust. It was a good wee tour taking us around some streets, they showed us where the children can go for a few hours assistance and also one of their homes where the short term children can stay. There are some really sad stories coming out of India but this charity does a lot of great work with the children. One of the streets they took us to was a tiny little alley way with religious tiles stuck on to the wall, they look quite out of place. The alley used to be a regular toilet stop and so the authorities placed these religious tiles because the locals cannot urinate in from of God and so the alley is now clean and safe to walk through. Delhi was way too hot and coupling that with being ill has meant that I didn't really enjoy my experience here and have little to say about it which is a shame but we must move on.
It's funny how much of India seems to be used just as a public bathroom. Everywhere we drive you can see people standing or squatting near the road. The other great annoyance is the litter, it's everywhere!! Great mounds of rubbish, scattered pieces rubbish, or even clumps where the litter has been swept into a pile and then just left there. The overriding scents of India are rubbish and toilets! Many places still have open sewers on the streets, some have closed sewers but then they flood out at a river and the whole place smells so bad. Then you have all the random street animals roaming around and eating from the litter piles, there are dogs, goats, boar and cows all sitting in or feeding from litter. Their poor sacred cows get to spend their lives wondering around towns and cities, not a blade of grass in sight, they wonder along the streets getting tooted at and feeding from dumped poly bags and food containers. The dogs and boar lie in the mud or sewage to cool down in the afternoon sun, it really is a dog's life!!
Next stop is Jaipur, home of the recent British film the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, I have high hopes for this place.
Friday, 8 June 2012
Preheat the oven to Pakistani degrees...
Arriving in Pakistan we were unsure what to expect really, a lot of our travel plans are at the mercy of the mercy of the police and their opinion of where we can travel and how much freedom we can have. The first two days was spent transitting through the desert to reach Quetta. Quetta being considered the most dangerous city we would visit and the road there being talked about as one of the most dangerous roads in the world due to bandits and other possible annoyances found in problem areas(!). The desert brought a new travelling experience to all of us as all of a sudden somebody turned the heating up full blast, driving along with the windows open was now like getting the blast of air that comes out of the oven when you open the door! It was 50 degrees celcius for a couple of days and other days only fell a few degrees short, in that heat we are supposed to be drinking 9 litres of water a day!! This is no easy task and I for one failed pathetically! We didn't even know whether to keep the windows open or not, is it better to bake through a window with no air or have the window open and an industrial hair-dryer trained on you?! Drinking all the water also means toilet stops - tell me... where do you hide in the desert when you need to take a wilderness wee?? There is nothing to hide behind! One time we stopped at a checkpoint (i think) and hid behind a small building and some lovely kind and helpful man came running over with ewers of water for us to wash... we wre trying to stop him rushing over as clearly we were not dressed for visitors!!
This part of Pakistan is covered with roadblocks and we're stopped so often, sometimes as little as 30km separates the roadblocks and it really slows our progress. Add to that the condition of the desert roads, some of them are covered in sand and some have partially crumbled away, one of our travel days was done at an average of 30 mph.
The armed escorts began in Iran and escalated as much as the temperature on our way to Quetta. The first Iranian escort failed to materialise but when we were closer to the border we were given what can only be described as an army cadet, he didn't look a day over 14 and had no weapon, unless of course a catapult lay undetected in his back pocket!! On the Pakistan side we started with two guards which grew to four, then six and eventually we wree driving in to Quetta flanked by 12 guards! This city also has a 6pm curfew for all westerners. Before and after Pakistan this part seemed quite a dangerous journey but admittedly at the time it never felt that way, we never felt scared or unsafe but clearly the police decided that a certain level of security was necessary. Having said that, the truth is that not everyone was happy to see white people in the area, a rock was thrown at us (and hit one of the girls) while walking through the streets and another rock was thrown and struck the truck while leaving the city. The vast majority of people were delighted to see us, they smiled, waved, welcomed us with what little english they had, they crowded around when we stopped walking and some of them followed us up the streets, it was like being a celebrity! The more interesting point about the streets is that almost every single person out there is male, the handful of women we did see were all begging!
Such a poor country, the sewerage runs down open ditches at the side of the street, sometimes it overflows onto the road and the pavement and you're having to walk through it in flip-flops! People must continue to earn their living with their food stalls right next to the open sewer with it's pungent aroma permeating the air! No matter what happens you have to make your money, whether you're the old man pushing your cart down the street while dragging a limp foot behind you or you're the disabled amputee in the home made trolley-come-wheelchair begging, at the end of the day you either bring home some cash or you literally starve! There is no help. It's a very hard life in this country and yet still when we visit their shops they offer us tea and biscuits! The bustling friendly vibe of Quetta means you can't help but love it! I just feel sorry for the people who have armed soldiers permanently stationed outside their shops or stalls, it's not nice to have people with large guns become such a regular part of your every day life as they so quickly did with ours. I never though I would get used to it but after only one night I was photographing them!
Onwards and eastwards. The more direct route to Lahore was deemed too dangerous for travel (for whatever reason) so we were taken slightly south via Sukkur. Another busy hive of activity we ended up here for an extra night due to our driver suffering the Pakistani delhi-belly. At 48 degrees I'm afraid I saw little of this town, it's too hot to go walking around!
Further east we stayed in Bahawalpur which was our last stop before Lahore. It was around this point that the landscape changed and hot baron and colourless desert was slowly phased out and replaced with green fields, trees and forms of irrigation. It's nice to see colours after a few days of yellows and browns, the only colour you get in the desert is the fantastic vibrancy of the 'jingle truck'. Brightly painted and beatifully decorated with jingles and jangles and tinselly decorations and material garlands these rainbow-bright's are an optical delight against a bland background. Even the steering wheels have ribbon wrapped around them and the drivers are very proud to be associated with their vehicles. The madness spreads and people cannot help but jingle up other vehicles, tractors, bikes, tuctucs, I even saw a jingle digger!
Once we reached Lahore the escort service was finished and we were free to continue our journey alone again, at this point we found news of American drone attacks in north east Pakistan, as if to drive home the point that this country is maybe not as safe and secure as it feels. A very sad reminder. After such a difficult past I am saddened that these lovely people still have a difficult future ahead of them. Despite all the things they have lived through, despite the conditions that their every-day lives revolve around, despite all their hardships they look into their crystal ball and see a foggy uncertain future.You have to admire their resilience and optimism.
Lahore is a far more modern city with people wearing jeans! It's still a Pakistani city with the same bustling busy characteristics but it's great to stop and sit and watch the world go by in it's haphazard anything-goes fashion that only an asian country can achieve. I do love to soak up the atmosphere in these places, as far as people watching goes it's a prime location. Back home eating curry for breakfast is like waving the pity-me-i've-got-a-hangover flag, here it's just normal to sit at a street stall with your bowl of curry and a naan. The food has been a spciy delight, I think I'm still quite chilli shy but am getting used to not having a choice. Tomorrow is the Indian border, their gate opens as another one shuts behind us. Onwards and eastwards.
This part of Pakistan is covered with roadblocks and we're stopped so often, sometimes as little as 30km separates the roadblocks and it really slows our progress. Add to that the condition of the desert roads, some of them are covered in sand and some have partially crumbled away, one of our travel days was done at an average of 30 mph.
The armed escorts began in Iran and escalated as much as the temperature on our way to Quetta. The first Iranian escort failed to materialise but when we were closer to the border we were given what can only be described as an army cadet, he didn't look a day over 14 and had no weapon, unless of course a catapult lay undetected in his back pocket!! On the Pakistan side we started with two guards which grew to four, then six and eventually we wree driving in to Quetta flanked by 12 guards! This city also has a 6pm curfew for all westerners. Before and after Pakistan this part seemed quite a dangerous journey but admittedly at the time it never felt that way, we never felt scared or unsafe but clearly the police decided that a certain level of security was necessary. Having said that, the truth is that not everyone was happy to see white people in the area, a rock was thrown at us (and hit one of the girls) while walking through the streets and another rock was thrown and struck the truck while leaving the city. The vast majority of people were delighted to see us, they smiled, waved, welcomed us with what little english they had, they crowded around when we stopped walking and some of them followed us up the streets, it was like being a celebrity! The more interesting point about the streets is that almost every single person out there is male, the handful of women we did see were all begging!
Such a poor country, the sewerage runs down open ditches at the side of the street, sometimes it overflows onto the road and the pavement and you're having to walk through it in flip-flops! People must continue to earn their living with their food stalls right next to the open sewer with it's pungent aroma permeating the air! No matter what happens you have to make your money, whether you're the old man pushing your cart down the street while dragging a limp foot behind you or you're the disabled amputee in the home made trolley-come-wheelchair begging, at the end of the day you either bring home some cash or you literally starve! There is no help. It's a very hard life in this country and yet still when we visit their shops they offer us tea and biscuits! The bustling friendly vibe of Quetta means you can't help but love it! I just feel sorry for the people who have armed soldiers permanently stationed outside their shops or stalls, it's not nice to have people with large guns become such a regular part of your every day life as they so quickly did with ours. I never though I would get used to it but after only one night I was photographing them!
Onwards and eastwards. The more direct route to Lahore was deemed too dangerous for travel (for whatever reason) so we were taken slightly south via Sukkur. Another busy hive of activity we ended up here for an extra night due to our driver suffering the Pakistani delhi-belly. At 48 degrees I'm afraid I saw little of this town, it's too hot to go walking around!
Further east we stayed in Bahawalpur which was our last stop before Lahore. It was around this point that the landscape changed and hot baron and colourless desert was slowly phased out and replaced with green fields, trees and forms of irrigation. It's nice to see colours after a few days of yellows and browns, the only colour you get in the desert is the fantastic vibrancy of the 'jingle truck'. Brightly painted and beatifully decorated with jingles and jangles and tinselly decorations and material garlands these rainbow-bright's are an optical delight against a bland background. Even the steering wheels have ribbon wrapped around them and the drivers are very proud to be associated with their vehicles. The madness spreads and people cannot help but jingle up other vehicles, tractors, bikes, tuctucs, I even saw a jingle digger!
Once we reached Lahore the escort service was finished and we were free to continue our journey alone again, at this point we found news of American drone attacks in north east Pakistan, as if to drive home the point that this country is maybe not as safe and secure as it feels. A very sad reminder. After such a difficult past I am saddened that these lovely people still have a difficult future ahead of them. Despite all the things they have lived through, despite the conditions that their every-day lives revolve around, despite all their hardships they look into their crystal ball and see a foggy uncertain future.You have to admire their resilience and optimism.
Lahore is a far more modern city with people wearing jeans! It's still a Pakistani city with the same bustling busy characteristics but it's great to stop and sit and watch the world go by in it's haphazard anything-goes fashion that only an asian country can achieve. I do love to soak up the atmosphere in these places, as far as people watching goes it's a prime location. Back home eating curry for breakfast is like waving the pity-me-i've-got-a-hangover flag, here it's just normal to sit at a street stall with your bowl of curry and a naan. The food has been a spciy delight, I think I'm still quite chilli shy but am getting used to not having a choice. Tomorrow is the Indian border, their gate opens as another one shuts behind us. Onwards and eastwards.
Thursday, 7 June 2012
Iran - The People
The worst part about Iran has to be the way the people are affected by it's governing. I found this quite difficult at first, culture dictates that women are second class citizens and are therefore treated as such. They must always be covered up including the hair, it is only acceptable to show feet, hands and face. We met a girl who had been arrested for not being properly covered, I believe her top was insudficient and she was given a warning later for having part of her calf on show. Younger women tend to wear a scarf, long sleeved fitted jacket (which must cover the bum) and skinny jeans. All the other women seem to opt for a cidor which is a full body scarf they hold closed under the chin or across their mouth/nose, it's like a bedsheet! No matter what we do we are preoccupied with our scarves, sorting it, readjusting it, holding it in the wind. This 'hejab' also plays with your mind, some of us felt depressed or grumpy having to always wear it. It might not sound that bad but it's a level of suppression that we are not used to.
The heat makes it uncomfortable and sweaty, in hostels we can't open the door, be near windows or even go to a use a shared bathroom without ensuring we artfully covered! Sometimes you just automatically push up your sleaves, but they have to cone right back down again!
Our guide Muhammad is not religious and made it clear from the start that we can remove hejab and relax in his company, however at bushcamps we always get visitors so we wait till after dark to relax.
On top of this, some men won't acknowledge women, we can be ignored if there's a man around or we can be spoken to in a short tempered grumpy manner. Women are not allowed to smoke. Buses are segregated, women get on the front, pay the driver, get off the bus and get back on using the rear door, they cannot even walk through the mens section! In a village I asked 2 women if I could photograph them, one scarpered while the other looked nervous and hid her face until her husband appeared and gave consent!
Having said that attitudes are changing and the vast majority if people we met were just lovely and greeted us with a warm welcome. The only things holding them back are their government and the worlds perception of them. Muhammad won't talk about religion or politics without first removing the battery from his mobile phone as people have been arrested when conversations have been listened to, once he's done this is the only way he will admit he is atheist.
We were told to avoid all conversations about politics as undercover police will speak to people and encourage these conversations!
Trucker J'mo had a long chat with a clinical psychologist in a cafe. He explained that a lot of Iranians are depressed and put thus down to 2 main reasons. One is the worlds perception of them, they feel like the whole world hates them and indeed another girl had commented that the rest of the world thinks they're all terrorists. The other thing Iranians suffer is identity crisis. Living in a society where their religion and lifestyle is forced upon them takes away so many of their choices and while most of them would continue to follow their religion and abide by it's rules they arenot given the freedom to make their own way. I can easily believe this as I feel so sorry for the women I pass on the street completely covered in black, it's like there's no personality in there, you hardly even notice them. The worst part of the conversation came at the end when they noticed a car across the street with a telescopic camera lens pointed in their direction. The poor man gotvery upset, asking J'mo if he was an undercover policeman as he can go to jail for what he's just said about his country, and with that he scampered!
This is a sad way to treat a wonderful nation, the people are respectful and their society is so polite and friendly and they're keen to keep up with the rest of the modern world, take on new ideas but they're held back. Every town we go through has billboards portraying their religious and political leaders, as if they might be forgotten! Tourism is dismal, apparently far worsened by 9/11 and they get only 400,000 tourists a year!
I feel torn by thus country, I love it and the people are so welcoming and kind but I am stifled by the rules, even the men have complained as they want to put shorts on!
So all my blogs on Iran have waited until I left there for two reasons. One is that my blog site is one if the many banned websites in Iran, the other is that someone did successfully blog while in Iran and his Iran entry mysteriously disappeared within an hour of being uploaded!! Big brother is always watching!
The worst part about Iran has to be the way the people are affected by it's governing. I found this quite difficult at first, culture dictates that women are second class citizens and are therefore treated as such. They must always be covered up including the hair, it is only acceptable to show feet, hands and face. We met a girl who had been arrested for not being properly covered, I believe her top was insudficient and she was given a warning later for having part of her calf on show. Younger women tend to wear a scarf, long sleeved fitted jacket (which must cover the bum) and skinny jeans. All the other women seem to opt for a cidor which is a full body scarf they hold closed under the chin or across their mouth/nose, it's like a bedsheet! No matter what we do we are preoccupied with our scarves, sorting it, readjusting it, holding it in the wind. This 'hejab' also plays with your mind, some of us felt depressed or grumpy having to always wear it. It might not sound that bad but it's a level of suppression that we are not used to.
The heat makes it uncomfortable and sweaty, in hostels we can't open the door, be near windows or even go to a use a shared bathroom without ensuring we artfully covered! Sometimes you just automatically push up your sleaves, but they have to cone right back down again!
Our guide Muhammad is not religious and made it clear from the start that we can remove hejab and relax in his company, however at bushcamps we always get visitors so we wait till after dark to relax.
On top of this, some men won't acknowledge women, we can be ignored if there's a man around or we can be spoken to in a short tempered grumpy manner. Women are not allowed to smoke. Buses are segregated, women get on the front, pay the driver, get off the bus and get back on using the rear door, they cannot even walk through the mens section! In a village I asked 2 women if I could photograph them, one scarpered while the other looked nervous and hid her face until her husband appeared and gave consent!
Having said that attitudes are changing and the vast majority if people we met were just lovely and greeted us with a warm welcome. The only things holding them back are their government and the worlds perception of them. Muhammad won't talk about religion or politics without first removing the battery from his mobile phone as people have been arrested when conversations have been listened to, once he's done this is the only way he will admit he is atheist.
We were told to avoid all conversations about politics as undercover police will speak to people and encourage these conversations!
Trucker J'mo had a long chat with a clinical psychologist in a cafe. He explained that a lot of Iranians are depressed and put thus down to 2 main reasons. One is the worlds perception of them, they feel like the whole world hates them and indeed another girl had commented that the rest of the world thinks they're all terrorists. The other thing Iranians suffer is identity crisis. Living in a society where their religion and lifestyle is forced upon them takes away so many of their choices and while most of them would continue to follow their religion and abide by it's rules they arenot given the freedom to make their own way. I can easily believe this as I feel so sorry for the women I pass on the street completely covered in black, it's like there's no personality in there, you hardly even notice them. The worst part of the conversation came at the end when they noticed a car across the street with a telescopic camera lens pointed in their direction. The poor man gotvery upset, asking J'mo if he was an undercover policeman as he can go to jail for what he's just said about his country, and with that he scampered!
This is a sad way to treat a wonderful nation, the people are respectful and their society is so polite and friendly and they're keen to keep up with the rest of the modern world, take on new ideas but they're held back. Every town we go through has billboards portraying their religious and political leaders, as if they might be forgotten! Tourism is dismal, apparently far worsened by 9/11 and they get only 400,000 tourists a year!
I feel torn by thus country, I love it and the people are so welcoming and kind but I am stifled by the rules, even the men have complained as they want to put shorts on!
So all my blogs on Iran have waited until I left there for two reasons. One is that my blog site is one if the many banned websites in Iran, the other is that someone did successfully blog while in Iran and his Iran entry mysteriously disappeared within an hour of being uploaded!! Big brother is always watching!
Saturday, 2 June 2012
Iran 2
Esfahan, the country's former capital. This city has everything you would expect to find in a beautiful city, a nice big river with bridges to wander over while enjoying thr cool breeze, a great big central square with a grand royal mosque, palaces, gardens and of course the bazaar! The mosque is incredible, it's decoration is stunning, made up of mostly blue tiles making use of their natural colours, lapis lazuli as well as yellow and green. The central dome is from where the caller sings out to the city to come to pray, the dome is 36m high and standing in the centre you can quietly rustle a piece of paper and hear it echo around the dome. The building took 4years to complete in the 1600s and stands as magnificently now as ever it did.
A friendly city, we are often approached and welcomed to Iran or asked where we're from, while this is high season and a popular tourist destination we are the only westerners some have seen this season, Iran gets only 400,000 tourists a year which is sad because people are missing out by not coming here. Half the truck leave Esfahan with a carpet as one of the shop owners is friendly with our guide and his shop was never seen without one or several of us having tea and chatting. Some of the truckers spent the evenings with him and his family picnicking outside his shop and chatting till late. Iranians are great picnickers! You always see them dotted around, they just pull up at the side of the road and have a picnic! In Esfahan they picnic along the riverside all evening and sometimes well into the night. The local food seems is all kebabs or falafel, other specialities are the popular carrot jam and gaz which is pistachio nougat, yum!
A broken lamp in a room led to 3 of us going to a mans house for tea and falafel (they really are very friendly!!) and to 'talk about our cultures and the economy'! A very pleasant evening picnicking falafel and salad on the living room floor though i seriously have no idea why they have a dining table in the same room!!
After Esfahan we headed a bit more into the desert where buildings take on a more traditional look, small brown buildings with smooth curved or domed rooves. The type you've seen on tv with camels around them! This was the look of our next stop, the city of Yazd. We stayed in the Silk Road Hotel in the old town which is just perfect as your traditional desert rest stop. You can easily get lost wondering the many streets on Yazd along it's alleys under archways and through short tunnels. There's such a relaxed safe atmosphere here it's hard to believe it's a city and not just a sleepy village. Yazd is thought to be the oldest city in the world having been continually inhabited for over 7000 years, it's my favourite part of Iran. You can't help being drawn in by its history, it's warm friendly atmosphere, the lovely people, the rich silk fabrics in the bazaar and it's all round quaint beauty. Even old delapidated buildings manage to look great as rain slowly melts their mud into smooth chocolatey lumps.
Our guide Muhammad chats to business owners who then invite us in to watch them work making sugar cones, copper and tin pots, fireplaces. The baker showed us how he stretches out their naan bread over a mould and then reaches into the oven and slaps the bread onto the inside of the wall next to the fire. When we wanted to buy bread from him but he refused to take any payment as we are his guests! It's hard to find fault in Iranian hospitality, such a generous and warm culture.
That night we went to watch saheb azaman, a traditional show of strength and fitness adopted by Iranian men from a work out previously used by soldiers 1000 years ago. Due to a lack of paying tourists this is now just a fitness class for men but was still interesting to watch.
I was sad to leave Yazd but we must push onwards to Pakistan. We bushcamped outside Bam and in the garden of a hotel in a border town near Zahedan. Our first escort didn't materialise but we shall be escorted from here until well into Pakistan. After 15 days in Iran we've had about 6 or 7 not travelling and covered 11,000km since leaving London.
Esfahan, the country's former capital. This city has everything you would expect to find in a beautiful city, a nice big river with bridges to wander over while enjoying thr cool breeze, a great big central square with a grand royal mosque, palaces, gardens and of course the bazaar! The mosque is incredible, it's decoration is stunning, made up of mostly blue tiles making use of their natural colours, lapis lazuli as well as yellow and green. The central dome is from where the caller sings out to the city to come to pray, the dome is 36m high and standing in the centre you can quietly rustle a piece of paper and hear it echo around the dome. The building took 4years to complete in the 1600s and stands as magnificently now as ever it did.
A friendly city, we are often approached and welcomed to Iran or asked where we're from, while this is high season and a popular tourist destination we are the only westerners some have seen this season, Iran gets only 400,000 tourists a year which is sad because people are missing out by not coming here. Half the truck leave Esfahan with a carpet as one of the shop owners is friendly with our guide and his shop was never seen without one or several of us having tea and chatting. Some of the truckers spent the evenings with him and his family picnicking outside his shop and chatting till late. Iranians are great picnickers! You always see them dotted around, they just pull up at the side of the road and have a picnic! In Esfahan they picnic along the riverside all evening and sometimes well into the night. The local food seems is all kebabs or falafel, other specialities are the popular carrot jam and gaz which is pistachio nougat, yum!
A broken lamp in a room led to 3 of us going to a mans house for tea and falafel (they really are very friendly!!) and to 'talk about our cultures and the economy'! A very pleasant evening picnicking falafel and salad on the living room floor though i seriously have no idea why they have a dining table in the same room!!
After Esfahan we headed a bit more into the desert where buildings take on a more traditional look, small brown buildings with smooth curved or domed rooves. The type you've seen on tv with camels around them! This was the look of our next stop, the city of Yazd. We stayed in the Silk Road Hotel in the old town which is just perfect as your traditional desert rest stop. You can easily get lost wondering the many streets on Yazd along it's alleys under archways and through short tunnels. There's such a relaxed safe atmosphere here it's hard to believe it's a city and not just a sleepy village. Yazd is thought to be the oldest city in the world having been continually inhabited for over 7000 years, it's my favourite part of Iran. You can't help being drawn in by its history, it's warm friendly atmosphere, the lovely people, the rich silk fabrics in the bazaar and it's all round quaint beauty. Even old delapidated buildings manage to look great as rain slowly melts their mud into smooth chocolatey lumps.
Our guide Muhammad chats to business owners who then invite us in to watch them work making sugar cones, copper and tin pots, fireplaces. The baker showed us how he stretches out their naan bread over a mould and then reaches into the oven and slaps the bread onto the inside of the wall next to the fire. When we wanted to buy bread from him but he refused to take any payment as we are his guests! It's hard to find fault in Iranian hospitality, such a generous and warm culture.
That night we went to watch saheb azaman, a traditional show of strength and fitness adopted by Iranian men from a work out previously used by soldiers 1000 years ago. Due to a lack of paying tourists this is now just a fitness class for men but was still interesting to watch.
I was sad to leave Yazd but we must push onwards to Pakistan. We bushcamped outside Bam and in the garden of a hotel in a border town near Zahedan. Our first escort didn't materialise but we shall be escorted from here until well into Pakistan. After 15 days in Iran we've had about 6 or 7 not travelling and covered 11,000km since leaving London.
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