Monday, May 21, 2007
Persepolis
I went to Shiraz for a day but could have stayed for a century and still not appreciated every aspect of this beautiful and memorable place. We landed at the airport and took a car straight to Persepolis, or as Iranians call it - Takhteh Jamshid. It was built over 2500 years ago by the Achamenid King Darius I, and grew during the reigns of Xerxes I, Ataxerxes I, and Darius II. Alexander the Great's army pillaged the palace and burned it to the ground. What remains today is considered a wonder of the world. To see Persepolis is to marvel at what man can accomplish.
There were pillars of stone that weighed hundreds of tons with intricately carved statues of griffins and bulls. Thousands of delicate carvings graced the walls showing the 28 peoples that made up the Empire. Persepolis was used during the New Year as the palace where representatives for the various groups would come to bring gifts for the King. The carvings on the walls show 28 different people: some have curly hair, some have sandals, others are barefoot, there are different hats indicating different groups. They all carry different gifts for the King: goats, vases, cloths. The men hold hands. The Empire was united. At least in the pictures.
The sheer enormity of Persepolis impresses. How did they accomplish the construction of this stone leviathon? The men who built this palace were not slaves; they were paid, they were skilled, they had health insurance. Persepolis was not only an amazing architectural feat, but also an amazing display of social and economical practice.
Like everything in Iran, hints of the revolution and its penumbra's linger even in the world of Darius I. The last Shah of Iran held an infamous 2500 anniversary for Persepolis: one of the biggest and most decadent parties the country had ever seen. Heads of state from across the globe were invited, tents that rivaled mansions were created to house them, the food was done by Maxim's in Paris. The iron scaffolding that still stands remains a reminder of yet another straw that eventually broke the mullah's backs and lead to revolution.
I spent the rest of the day visiting Shiraz and eating Faludeh (a sweet Iranian desert, somewhat like ice cream). I kissed Hafez' tomb, wore a chador to see Shah Cheragh (an important mosque), and spoke to a man who didn't believe I was Iranian but insisted I was from Spain. There were beautiful and fragrant roses everywhere, fabrics woven by the Qashghayi nomads, palaces from the Qajar era, and a bazaar where I bought a ring with a prayer to Allah on it. I later had the ring made tightened by a jeweler in Tehran who had to dismantle the ring and underneath the brick-red stone there was a miniature prayer from the Quran written on a tiny piece of parchment - I still don't know what it says but I wear the ring every day and feel the mystical and magical beauty of Shiraz, of Iran, of being Persian.
There were pillars of stone that weighed hundreds of tons with intricately carved statues of griffins and bulls. Thousands of delicate carvings graced the walls showing the 28 peoples that made up the Empire. Persepolis was used during the New Year as the palace where representatives for the various groups would come to bring gifts for the King. The carvings on the walls show 28 different people: some have curly hair, some have sandals, others are barefoot, there are different hats indicating different groups. They all carry different gifts for the King: goats, vases, cloths. The men hold hands. The Empire was united. At least in the pictures.
The sheer enormity of Persepolis impresses. How did they accomplish the construction of this stone leviathon? The men who built this palace were not slaves; they were paid, they were skilled, they had health insurance. Persepolis was not only an amazing architectural feat, but also an amazing display of social and economical practice.
Like everything in Iran, hints of the revolution and its penumbra's linger even in the world of Darius I. The last Shah of Iran held an infamous 2500 anniversary for Persepolis: one of the biggest and most decadent parties the country had ever seen. Heads of state from across the globe were invited, tents that rivaled mansions were created to house them, the food was done by Maxim's in Paris. The iron scaffolding that still stands remains a reminder of yet another straw that eventually broke the mullah's backs and lead to revolution.
I spent the rest of the day visiting Shiraz and eating Faludeh (a sweet Iranian desert, somewhat like ice cream). I kissed Hafez' tomb, wore a chador to see Shah Cheragh (an important mosque), and spoke to a man who didn't believe I was Iranian but insisted I was from Spain. There were beautiful and fragrant roses everywhere, fabrics woven by the Qashghayi nomads, palaces from the Qajar era, and a bazaar where I bought a ring with a prayer to Allah on it. I later had the ring made tightened by a jeweler in Tehran who had to dismantle the ring and underneath the brick-red stone there was a miniature prayer from the Quran written on a tiny piece of parchment - I still don't know what it says but I wear the ring every day and feel the mystical and magical beauty of Shiraz, of Iran, of being Persian.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Chaboksar
I'm at my uncle's house in Chaboksar, northern Iran, on the Caspian Sea. Jungle meets the ocean and it is incredible. I went to a tea factory today. The smell of freshly picked tea leaves was intoxicating. I drank a cup of the tea and it was so strong it gave me a headache (it will get weaker in the coming weeks).
On the way up to the top of the mountains, we stopped at a small village and bought some eggs and borrowed a frying pan from a local restaurant owner. There were cows all over the road. At another village, there were dozens of men and women picking valerian flowers. The road we were on twisted and snaked its way through the heart of the mountains, climbing higher and higher with each bend. We finally reached the top of the mountains and the view that spread out before us was like something out of a fairy tale - green jungles, jagged cliffs, countless waterfalls. And all-enveloping mist.
We parked the car and climbed to a flat area where we set up a picnic - bread, cheese, and we cooked on a communal omelette in the borrowed frying pan on the petite fire we had made. Some cows ventured near, but I think we smoked them out. I made friends with a huge yellow slug that was attempting to steal some cookies. Someone suggested we have some escargot - I didn't think that a good idea. I spent some time exploring but got slightly discouraged when I put my hand on a stick colored snake that fled from me as I fled from it.
Almost as soon as we got to our spot on the mountain, the mist crept up on us. We resided in the mist and could not see more than five feet ahead of us. It was the thickest, heaviest moisture I have ever encountered. I laid down on the ground and closed my eyes for a moment and felt like I was at the top of the earth in the middle of nowhere but above all of humanity and enveloped in a cloud where I could disappear from the whole damn thing. So far I have been at the top of the mountain, at the edge of the sea, in the middle of the desert, part of the hustle and bustle of a metropolis of 14 million people, and on Monday I will head to a time where civilization was born and great kings built great kingdoms which centuries later would be heralded as one of the wonders of the world - Persepolis is my next stop!
On the way up to the top of the mountains, we stopped at a small village and bought some eggs and borrowed a frying pan from a local restaurant owner. There were cows all over the road. At another village, there were dozens of men and women picking valerian flowers. The road we were on twisted and snaked its way through the heart of the mountains, climbing higher and higher with each bend. We finally reached the top of the mountains and the view that spread out before us was like something out of a fairy tale - green jungles, jagged cliffs, countless waterfalls. And all-enveloping mist.
We parked the car and climbed to a flat area where we set up a picnic - bread, cheese, and we cooked on a communal omelette in the borrowed frying pan on the petite fire we had made. Some cows ventured near, but I think we smoked them out. I made friends with a huge yellow slug that was attempting to steal some cookies. Someone suggested we have some escargot - I didn't think that a good idea. I spent some time exploring but got slightly discouraged when I put my hand on a stick colored snake that fled from me as I fled from it.
Almost as soon as we got to our spot on the mountain, the mist crept up on us. We resided in the mist and could not see more than five feet ahead of us. It was the thickest, heaviest moisture I have ever encountered. I laid down on the ground and closed my eyes for a moment and felt like I was at the top of the earth in the middle of nowhere but above all of humanity and enveloped in a cloud where I could disappear from the whole damn thing. So far I have been at the top of the mountain, at the edge of the sea, in the middle of the desert, part of the hustle and bustle of a metropolis of 14 million people, and on Monday I will head to a time where civilization was born and great kings built great kingdoms which centuries later would be heralded as one of the wonders of the world - Persepolis is my next stop!
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Yazd
I just got back from the city of Yazd, one of the oldest cities in the world. When you think of the desert, or of life in the Middle East hundreds of years ago, or of mudhouses and sand and the endless pursuit of water, you have Yazd. It was beautiful in a way I can't fully describe because it was like nothing I have ever seen – nothing like this city exists in America or in Europe. It is the most unique place I have been to.
Our hotel was an old renovated Yazdi house where the rooms open into beautiful gardens. I could just imagine being a young lady surrounded by other young ladies lounging around the pool and waiting for our father to find us suitable husbands. We spent hours getting lost in the winding alleys with mud arches overhead and with every turn I discovered some new amazing structure or architectural wonder. Yazd is known for its "badgirs" (wind towers), which are these huge towers that caught the wind and pushed it down to be cooled by a huge pool of cold water. This was the old method of air conditioning and all of the big houses in Yazd had one or more badgirs. The architecture and precise mathematics of these structures is so amazing that apparently a group of Japanese engineers came to Yazd and studied the badgirs for six months and still could not figure out how they worked. I stood under the largest badgir in Yazd and was almost knocked over by the power of the wind it pushed down.
Yazd is also a huge center of Zoroastrianism in the Middle East. We traveled through the desert and drove into the heart of the mountains to reach the Zoroastrian pilgrimage site of Chak-Chak. Its name comes from the story of a Sassanian era princess who ran away from a dangerous situation and came to the mountains to seek refuge. There was no water and so she stood on the ledge of the mountain and pounded her staff down and water emerged. It made a dripping sound like "chk chk chk" and thus Chak-Chak. We climbed up to the see the Zoroastrian flame that must continually be fed wood so that it may burn forever, as it has burned for thousands of years past.
Zoroastrians did not want to pollute the earth so they did not bury their dead. They did not want to pollute the air so they did not cremate their dead. Instead, they put their dead into this enormous tower called a "dakhmeh." They would sit the dead upright and the guardians of the dakhmeh would watch to see if the vultures first picked out the left or right eye. If a vulture ate your right eye first, it meant your soul went to heaven. If it ate your left eye first then......your eternal soul was damned. Vultures would then feast on the rest of you and that's how Zoroastrians took care of their dead. This practice was outlawed about fifty years ago but I saw two dakhmeh's and they were in the middle of the desert and loomed overhead like a constant reminder of what's to come and where we all end up.
One of the most impressive things about Yazd was the kindness of its people, who are known throughout Iran as being incredibly generous and good-hearted. Everyone was so nice and helpful. Little children, seeing our cameras and awe-inspired expressions, would come up to us and smile these huge smiles and say "Hello!" There were so many tourists in Yazd from all over the world and whenever I talked to anyone, they would comment on how kind the Yazdi people were. Not only did I see a part of the world that I had never even imagined still existed, but it felt like I had traveled to a completely different time. Yazd was amazing.
Our hotel was an old renovated Yazdi house where the rooms open into beautiful gardens. I could just imagine being a young lady surrounded by other young ladies lounging around the pool and waiting for our father to find us suitable husbands. We spent hours getting lost in the winding alleys with mud arches overhead and with every turn I discovered some new amazing structure or architectural wonder. Yazd is known for its "badgirs" (wind towers), which are these huge towers that caught the wind and pushed it down to be cooled by a huge pool of cold water. This was the old method of air conditioning and all of the big houses in Yazd had one or more badgirs. The architecture and precise mathematics of these structures is so amazing that apparently a group of Japanese engineers came to Yazd and studied the badgirs for six months and still could not figure out how they worked. I stood under the largest badgir in Yazd and was almost knocked over by the power of the wind it pushed down.
Yazd is also a huge center of Zoroastrianism in the Middle East. We traveled through the desert and drove into the heart of the mountains to reach the Zoroastrian pilgrimage site of Chak-Chak. Its name comes from the story of a Sassanian era princess who ran away from a dangerous situation and came to the mountains to seek refuge. There was no water and so she stood on the ledge of the mountain and pounded her staff down and water emerged. It made a dripping sound like "chk chk chk" and thus Chak-Chak. We climbed up to the see the Zoroastrian flame that must continually be fed wood so that it may burn forever, as it has burned for thousands of years past.
Zoroastrians did not want to pollute the earth so they did not bury their dead. They did not want to pollute the air so they did not cremate their dead. Instead, they put their dead into this enormous tower called a "dakhmeh." They would sit the dead upright and the guardians of the dakhmeh would watch to see if the vultures first picked out the left or right eye. If a vulture ate your right eye first, it meant your soul went to heaven. If it ate your left eye first then......your eternal soul was damned. Vultures would then feast on the rest of you and that's how Zoroastrians took care of their dead. This practice was outlawed about fifty years ago but I saw two dakhmeh's and they were in the middle of the desert and loomed overhead like a constant reminder of what's to come and where we all end up.
One of the most impressive things about Yazd was the kindness of its people, who are known throughout Iran as being incredibly generous and good-hearted. Everyone was so nice and helpful. Little children, seeing our cameras and awe-inspired expressions, would come up to us and smile these huge smiles and say "Hello!" There were so many tourists in Yazd from all over the world and whenever I talked to anyone, they would comment on how kind the Yazdi people were. Not only did I see a part of the world that I had never even imagined still existed, but it felt like I had traveled to a completely different time. Yazd was amazing.
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