Iran, the Internet - have you two met? Chaotic entry post.
If this post actually manages to reach its destination (that is my Livejournal blog) the day it is written (May, 11) I would consider that a small yet a significant victory of a sneaky web-proxy over the Big-Brother-Is-Watching-You Iranian government. If not, these notes would pile up on my desktop until I have an opportunity to reach the outer world. Or I’ll start training pigeons.
Rumour has it it’s the upcoming presidential election to blame for the network blackout. If so, then allegedly within a month and a half the connection would at least be as skypable enough as I remember it 3 years ago during my last visit. Until then, one can hope for the best. And ponder on the practical application of democracy in daily life.
With such a lengthy preface I will begin my story of Iran-2013, or in local count, Iran-1392. 4 years have passed in the Middle Ages since the time I tasted my first delicious Iranian pistachios. And decided to come back for more. (That is the official story why I took up this job. The unofficial part has two versions. “You have studied this stuff for all these years. Better try the opportunity than regret not having tried it,” said he. “Money and potential work experience. AND pistachios,” said I.).
Though now I’m looking at this country (or more specifically, at Tehran) through different glasses. I have to say, this change of a viewpoint is for the better. The last time the freedom of movement and social interaction was restricted to extremes by our ideologically correct Iranian group-leaders. This time the freedom of movement and social interaction is restricted by the embassy security officer, which yet allows the freedom to go wherever my feet (and in future, my car) will carry me during the daytime. Since night life in Tehran leaves to be desired, the midnight curfew is the least of my worries.
It’s been only 2 weeks that I’ve arrived, so many impressions are still in need to accumulate, many places to be visited and local experiences to be tried. I found myself in Central Tehran, where I have barely been before. Its eternal buzz is a sharp contrast with scarcely populated northern areas of the city, where we dwelt as students. Unlike the dusty city streets, the embassy is an oasis of green, populated with wildlife. Wildlife is represented by countless cats (and I thought that Istanbul is the city of cats! Meh!), huge green parrots, which look very pirate-shoulder-like birds, and undying mosquitoes, that feast on innocent sleepers in the black of the night.
Central Tehran is the older part of the city, though less prestigious to live in because of the heavy smog that hangs here from millions of cars driving daily, and the heat that I still have to witness in summer. The northern areas have the advantage of mountainous heights that result in cooler and cleaner air. So far my foot expeditions led me to the side-streets around embassy, which are full with many little shops, offering groceries, clothing, shoes, suitcases and, surprisingly, pianos. Yet armed with a “Lonely Planet” and a map of Tehran, I’m ready to explore more.
Rumour has it it’s the upcoming presidential election to blame for the network blackout. If so, then allegedly within a month and a half the connection would at least be as skypable enough as I remember it 3 years ago during my last visit. Until then, one can hope for the best. And ponder on the practical application of democracy in daily life.
With such a lengthy preface I will begin my story of Iran-2013, or in local count, Iran-1392. 4 years have passed in the Middle Ages since the time I tasted my first delicious Iranian pistachios. And decided to come back for more. (That is the official story why I took up this job. The unofficial part has two versions. “You have studied this stuff for all these years. Better try the opportunity than regret not having tried it,” said he. “Money and potential work experience. AND pistachios,” said I.).
Though now I’m looking at this country (or more specifically, at Tehran) through different glasses. I have to say, this change of a viewpoint is for the better. The last time the freedom of movement and social interaction was restricted to extremes by our ideologically correct Iranian group-leaders. This time the freedom of movement and social interaction is restricted by the embassy security officer, which yet allows the freedom to go wherever my feet (and in future, my car) will carry me during the daytime. Since night life in Tehran leaves to be desired, the midnight curfew is the least of my worries.
It’s been only 2 weeks that I’ve arrived, so many impressions are still in need to accumulate, many places to be visited and local experiences to be tried. I found myself in Central Tehran, where I have barely been before. Its eternal buzz is a sharp contrast with scarcely populated northern areas of the city, where we dwelt as students. Unlike the dusty city streets, the embassy is an oasis of green, populated with wildlife. Wildlife is represented by countless cats (and I thought that Istanbul is the city of cats! Meh!), huge green parrots, which look very pirate-shoulder-like birds, and undying mosquitoes, that feast on innocent sleepers in the black of the night.
Central Tehran is the older part of the city, though less prestigious to live in because of the heavy smog that hangs here from millions of cars driving daily, and the heat that I still have to witness in summer. The northern areas have the advantage of mountainous heights that result in cooler and cleaner air. So far my foot expeditions led me to the side-streets around embassy, which are full with many little shops, offering groceries, clothing, shoes, suitcases and, surprisingly, pianos. Yet armed with a “Lonely Planet” and a map of Tehran, I’m ready to explore more.