Beautiful Iran 1 - A Nightmare of "Argo"

“Is it OK for you to travel around Iran?” one of my friends asked me when I talked about the plan of my trip to Iran. “I’m sure I’ve heard of no accident.”  “I don’t mean that. Iran is a country of terror, isn’t it?”

This was a typical reaction of Japanese people toward Iran, for the mass media usually flow the negative news against this country; for example, Tehran’s nuclear ambitions, the United Nations sanctions led by U.S. government, and Iran’s warning of the Strait of Hormuz closure... 

On the night of April 17, 2013, my wife and I, together with our 12 fellow travelers, 4 men and 8 women, got aboard Emirates A 380 and departed from Narita, Tokyo to Tehran. 

Incidentally, in the plane I watched the best picture of the 2013 Academy Awards, “Argo”, which was uploaded in the list of in-flight movies.  

In November 1979, to support the Iranian Revolution, a group of Islamist students stormed in the U.S. Embassy in Teheran and captured 52 American staff members, which ignited a 444 day hostage crisis. During the seizure, 6 American diplomats fled out and took shelter at the residence of Canadian Ambassador. The story of “Argo” is that CIA operative Tony Mendez led their rescue by making up a cover story for the 6 fugitives being Canadian staff of the SF film “Argo”. At the scene Ben Affleck as Mendez entered into Tehran, I felt uneasy to look at an executed man hanging from a crane.

We arrived at Tehran Imam Khomeini Airport in the morning of April 18. Before getting off the plane women had to dress themselves with a scarf around the head and loose clothes to hide their body lines, because our tour conductor said even tourists or foreigners must obey Islamic dress-code. 

Going through the arrival gate to the baggage claim, we came across two airport workers riding on a small electric vehicle. One of them spoke a very fluent Japanese to us, “Konnichiwa, Iran ni yōkoso.” (Hello, welcome to Iran)   

“Nihongo jōzudane,” (Your Japanese is good) said a woman of our group.

“Datte Nihonjin dakarane.” (Because I am a Japanese) He made a joke. 

“Kami ga mietara ikenaidesho,” (It is banned to show our hair, isn’t it) she asked.

“Daijōbudayo. datte obāchanjanaika.” (It’s OK, because you are an old lady)

All of us bursted into laugh. 

“Jōdandayo. Iran ni yōkoos,” (It’s a joke. Welcome to Iran) he said and drived away. 

But what he said was true. No Iranian authorities paid attention to Japanese elderly ladies’ hair. 

  

On the way to the hotel by sightseeing bus I found, fortunately, no body dangling from a crane anywhere. Looking out of the window, I saw cranes working for high buildings under construction instead.   

There are many high buildings under construction in Tehran

I asked our guide Mr. Musa about the public execution: “Before this trip I checked Zahedan near the border of Pakistan on the internet, for a big earthquake had taken place there. I found a picture of three men publicly executed. Is the execution carried out in public in Iran?”

“I don’t think so, but some people wish it,” he answered. The Guardian (January 31, 2008) reported that Iran banned the public execution except in cases approved by the judiciary chief. I think it was a good decision for the civilized society.

We were involved in a trafic jam in the center of the city. We stopped at a restaurant for lunch. There I ate Persian cuisine for the first time. I think whether you can love the country you travel depends on whether you can taste the traditional cuisine the people usually eat there. 

We ate Abgoosht. ‘Ab’ means water, ‘goosht’ meat in Farsi, and Abgoosht is in fact a meat and vegetable stew. It is a traditional peasant food in Iran usually made with lamb, chickpeas, white beans, onion, potato, tomato, and black lime. The stew simmers for hours.

A boy mashed meat and vegetables in the pot.

We soaked pieces of nan in the broth. 

Abgoosht was served in a small pot. First we took only the broth and soaked pieces of nan (flatbread) in it and ate them like a soup. Next we mashed the remaining meat and vegetables until it became a well-mixed paste. We ate it with fresh nan. Abgoosht tastes simple with salt and pepper, but that flavor is universal in the Middle East and the Central Asia, that I have experienced from the east Turkey to Syria and Jordan. 

As the law bans the sale of alcohol drinks in a restaurant, we were drinking non-alcoholic beer, soda, or water. I found our bus driver pouring white fluid into a glass from a jug at the next table. I asked him in my smattering Farsi, “What is it?” “Doogh,” he answered, filled another glass and gave it to me. I gulped it. It was a cold yogurt-based drink. “Not sweat, but very tasty. It is like Ayran in Turkey,” said I. Doogh was seasoned with mint and salt. The driver, whose name was Golam, nodded and smiled.  

After that experience, I acquired a taste for Doogh. Since then I always ordered it at meals. 

A nightmare of “Argo” disappeared from my mind. 

Azadi Square in Tehran