Television
K used to complain about the flowers, streams, waterfalls, and mountains that made up a good portion of Iranian television viewing. Now he loves them. After Ramadan's grim and, frankly, nasty programming, we are both happy to watch flowers with Shajarian's voice singing along. Last night we both enjoyed watching birds flying across the tv screen.

During Ramadan our television viewing was dominated by anti-Israel, anti-America marches, war movies, children's war programs, and religious discussions. Iranian tv did show a few decent serials. The best was Mr. Mashallah about the family of a man who decides to find work in Malaysia. He pays some shady character--introduced to him by a member of his family—his entire life savings for a plane ticket and connections in Malaysia. The man cheats him. Mr. Mashallah feels he cannot face his family and pretends to be in Malaysia. It was funny, human, and sweet. There were a couple of other serials in this category as well, but I did not watch them.

Everyone in Iran (except for maybe the diplomats) watched Mr. Mashallah. It was far and away the most-watched program of the year. It was repeated three times each day, so there was a good chance you would get to see it. The most popular showing was about an hour after sunset. It was rare to get or make a phone call during that hour.

Iranian tv also showed the infamous Egyptian serial: Conspiracy of the Elders of Zion. In Persian it was called simply: Conspiracy. A live action children's program made during the Iran-Iraq war and shown during Ramada featured horrific war footage combined with live action animation of US and Israeli tanks running over dolls. A new children's cartoon features children being attacked by Israeli soldiers and tanks. Pretty grim programming for children.

Iranian tv is showing Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 911 over and over again. The news is a vehicle for showing explosions in Iraq and Gaza. Every act of violence is blamed on a combination of America, Al Qaeda, and the Mossad (working together, I might add). Sports news is still okay. Last night we did see that horrible fight at the Pacers game. "Afghanistan must be okay," K commented. "They never show it."

I have been getting increasingly depressed about the television programming. Maybe it was always like this, and I am depressed only because my Persian has improved. Who knows? Our friend reassures me by saying, "Look the regime has given up on propaganda. It didn't work for the generation born after the revolution, and they don't really believe in it anymore."

Guardian Unlimited | Special reports | Iran bows to EU pressure to freeze uranium programme

While negotiations between nations are always filled with brinksmanship, it's hard for me to believe that Iran will ever agree to an indefinite freeze on uranium enrichment. Iranians of all stripes think that Iran should have this capability. It does not seem to matter on what side of the political divide they sit. Many exiles agree. Why shouldn't Iran have the right to enrich uranium? they ask. They don't seem to question Iran's presumed need for nuclear warheads. (Meanwhile, many of them have demonstrated against nuclear power plants in their new countries.) In my whole time here, I have only met one person who disagreed with the government's policy, and he works for the Iranian government.

Look Iranians, you are getting parts from Russia: home of the Chernobyl disaster. Remember Chernobyl? Most of your buildings are not earthquake proof. I am going to personally ask you all to consider retro-fitting existing buildings, implementing a strict construction inspection regime, and making the inspectors bribe-proof before you enrich uranium.

It's just a personal request from me.

Thanks for considering it.

Tarof

I have written before about the complicated system of manners that Iranians call tarof. When I first arrived I hated it. Then I grew accustomed to it. Then I learned more about it. And now…

Now I think it is one of the most dangerous factors affecting Iranian society. The thing is, Iranians agree with this assessment.

Exiled Iranians--who do not live in LA--have learned (for the most part) to love life without tarof. They have become direct and efficient. When they return to Iran (or when they visit LA), they experience major tarof shock. One friend described a trip to LA as "suffocating." Another friend visiting Iran after 19 years in Europe had this to say: "It’s just a way for people to do what *they* want to do. Tarof has nothing to do with my needs and desires as a guest. It's all about the host."

That's how I experienced tarof when I first arrived. As I learned to function within tarof, I learned to make it work for me as well. That's the point.

The point is that tarof is manipulative. It's a system of manipulation.

"It's so much better now," the same friend tells me. "At least people are talking about it now. Before, no one even spoke about tarof."

I know people who have not attended weddings because they did not want to tell surprise out-of-town guests that they had an appointment elsewhere. You can't expect to keep appointments here, but you can make them. And you do make them. A friend made a doctor's appointment 3 months in advance only to find that he was on vacation when she arrived at his office.

Tarof keeps people from being direct. It slows down the economy. It drives people crazy. Young Iranians are rebelling against it, and I wish them luck.

World Qods Day

Today is the day of a huge anti-Israel rally. World Qods Day. Qods is the name for the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem: the third holiest site in Islam. For two weeks, television programming has been mainly anti-Israel & anti-America. "They're getting people on to the streets again," K said, as we watched the early-morning coverage of the demonstration near the university in Tehran.

This, of course, is combined with the drama of Arafat's death. "They're saying that Israel poisoned him."

It's an election year in Iran. Most of the programming shows Rafsanjani and Khameini. Rafsanjani is poised to be the "once and future" president of Iran.

K and I were mesmerized by hours and hours of programming featuring Khameini meeting with the families of people killed during the Iran-Iraq war. (We watched for about an hour.) Families came who had lost all of their sons, one son, one husband, four brothers… They kissed Khameini. His aides wrote the names of the families. Khameini promised to visit some of them. Sometimes he gave a young man his checked scarf: a symbol of the Hezbollah. His aides brought him a new scarf.

Later in the week, we saw a speech by Khameini to students in Tehran. I recognized some of the students. (Believe it or not… K often recognizes people in the audience of speeches. That's the nature of Iran. It's not such a very big country.). They seemed to spontaneously and wholeheartedly break out into chants of "Death to America." About a month ago, in Isfahan, the crowd barely joined in for the obligatory "Death to America" chant. That said, it's impossible to gauge how Iranians feel about politics by their participation in chants and demonstrations. Superficial assessments get you nowhere in Iran.

Okay, here is my theory on why both the opposition and the regime in Iran support Bush. The regime is hoping for a close election that would leave Bush acting like he has a mandate without the actual mandate. Just like the last 4 years, btw. The best thing that could happen to the regime in Iran is a Bush electoral college win.

They would love to have four more years of Bush's rhetoric and the resulting wedge between America and the rest of the world. Kerry is too subtle for them.

The opposition hopes that Bush will have a clear victory that would show American support for Bush's policies. This, they believe, would keep the Iranian regime wondering whether or not they would be the next target.

That's just my theory... no more, no less.

Are you crazy?

When I go visit friends and family in America, they ask me if I am out of my mind to live here in Iran. Sometimes Iranians ask me the same question, but for reasons that may or may not surprise my family and friends. Iranians ask me because they think I am crazy to live somewhere where my freedoms are not respected. Americans ask me because I am an American and because I am not a Muslim.

I have many observant Islamic friends now. Not one of them would dream of enforcing his or her brand of Islam on me or anyone else. "I have never forced my daughter to pray or wear hijab or practice any part of Islam," one of our friends tells me. "She has come to the practice herself, by her own choice." This view is the prevalent one among our friends and family.

This attitude does not seem to be limited to our friends and family. Taxi drivers express similar sentiments without any prompting. Total strangers do the same. A group of young people approached me to practice their English and said something similar to me. I am not a pollster, but I presume that this view is prevalent among Iranians. We'll have to find out.

That said, I get the sense that they would all be thrilled if I converted. That sentiment is not confined to Muslims by any stretch of the imagination. When you practice a minority religion, you notice how often people of a variety of faiths try to convert you.

We were in Isfahan on a recent Friday and could not help hearing the Friday prayers. They are broadcast all over the place. The mullah's Friday sermon contained the obligatory anti-American, anti-European sentiment. This time, the mullah said that Americans and Europeans were actively trying to change Iranian culture through clothing and music. "If Americans were influencing the clothing of Iranian youth," I told our friends, "they would be wearing loose jeans and sweatshirts." Our friends laughed.

I asked Iranians we met if they felt Americans were unfairly influencing their culture. The Iranians laughed and said, "Bring it on!" or "Not enough."

"But Iranians are so materialistic," a European friend commented. "They are so brand conscious – don't you think that is our fault?"

"I heard it was even worse in the time of the Shah," I responded. "I think Iranians come by this naturally."

Iran has a strong culture and a strong sense of history. Somehow they seem to assimilate assaults on their culture. Fast food places here seem, somehow, Iranian. Pop music seems Iranian. Dire Straits sound Iranian when their music is played here. So does Metallica. So does Sheena Easton. I don't know how to describe it. They just seem to be part of Iranian culture instead of an attack on it. Maybe that is because they do not displace Shajarian or Mansour. Even satellite television does not displace the homegrown Iranian serial/soap opera.

We Americans have done such a bad job of communicating with this region of the world. Why then, do you ask, is the view Iranians have of Americans so different from the view their neighbors have? Partly, I think it is because of the sheer number of Iranian expatriates living all over the world. These emigrants are great PR people. Everywhere I go, I meet people with relatives living outside of Iran. This is as true of the wealthy as the poor. I have even met a Nomadic family with a brother living in Germany. We need to learn from the way they represent our world to their families and friends.

When I read about terrorist acts all over the world, I do not see them as attacks against America. I don't even see them as attacks against what America represents. The facts just do not support this view. Synagogues, Mosques, Temples, and Churches have all been attacked. Cinemas, dancehalls, restaurants, and buses have been attacked. People all over the world have been the victims of terrorism. The majority of those victims have not been Americans. These attacks are attacks against diversity, pluralism, tolerance, faith, and modernism. I do not see them as calls for help or acts of desperation, but as acts of intolerance and blinding fear. Our language of fear is contributing to this. When we respond with fear, we use the same language as the people who would seek to terrorize us. When we respond with absolutes, we let them set the tone of the debate. Suffice to say, I think that we are fucking up.

BTW, I read William Safire's article about the vote in Afghanistan. It is really optimistic, but it jibes with what we unofficially hear in Iran. Iranians are extremely optimistic about Afghanistan. (They are also optimistic about Iraq. So you decide how much weight you want to put on their optimism) Iran is crawling with ballot workers who worked collecting the votes of Afghans living here. Here is what one friend told me: "People lined up for hours. They were so thrilled to be able to vote. I could not help but be thrilled for them. There were men and women in their 70s and 80s who had never voted and who could barely contain their excitement. It was so moving for me."

We don't have to be cynical about everything, do we?

Death of a Bagel Man

Sam Lender is dead…

When my great aunt was coming to visit us from Chicago, she asked us what we wanted. My mother said, "Just bring bagels." We lived in a bagel-deprived community and always got bagels from relatives living in St. Louis, Chicago, or New York.

My great aunt arrived with a long story about how she spent hours searching for just the right bagel. Needless to say, we were thrilled. She reached into the bag to hand us our prize: a dozen Lender's bagels.

Your gas guzzler…

…is funding the Shahab Missile project. Think about that next time you get behind the wheel.

I am not excusing the Iranian government for making the decision to extend the range of the Shahab missile: no, not that. I am just telling you that you are funding it.

Iran could use the excess money from oil sales to put emergency preparedness procedures in place in the event of the inevitable earthquakes. Japan has monthly drills. Everyone in the US has practiced getting out of their school or workplace. What about Iran? If I go into a building and ask people where all of the stairways are, they look at me with disbelief. Why would I want to know that?

Oh, and by the way, the mullahs support Bush.

The Garden of Heaven

Thursdays…
…at the Garden of heaven. For a long time now, I confused the word for "Garden" (Bagh-eh) with the word for Dad (Babba). So when people told me that they were going to the cemetery (literally for Muslims: Garden of Heaven), I knew where they were going, but I heard "Jeanette's Father" (Farsi speakers will understand my meaning).

I still cannot get over a Thursday visit to the graveyard. It is absolutely packed with visitors. On a recent visit, we were surrounded by a huge group of people commemorating the 40th day after their relative's death. People were everywhere: they were standing on graves, drinking punch and eating dates, and introducing wives and husbands. We arrived late: after the requisite, tear-your-hair-out mourning. It seemed to me that we had stumbled on an engagement party. The smiles were broad. Children were jumping and playing. There was plenty of laughter to go around.

At first I thought that either the person whose death they were commemorating was despised or very old. I think the second was true. There were too many people present for a despised person.

I enjoyed watching. It did, I notice, anger the regular mourners just a bit. They have been visiting the graves of their loved ones every Thursday since they died. I am thinking particularly of the mothers of sons who tragically died in car accidents. There are too many of these mothers at the graveyard and too many of their sons buried below the ground.

K was appalled by the state of the graveyard. Kids practice their aim by throwing rocks through the windows of the mausoleums. Garbage was strewn everywhere. The pavilion that hosts funerals is just an empty metal structure: "And Iran calls itself the center of handicrafts...? Why don't they have some on display here?"

K has a constant running commentary on the state of Iran. He is disgusted with the poor craftsmanship, the lack of will, the corruption, religion, politics, news, football, street decorations, earthquake preparedness. Almost every time we get in a taxi he starts with his complaints. By the end of the ride, he usually has the entire car in stitches. When he is really on a roll, he has his entire audience joining in. It might sound like all he does is whine, but it is a particularly funny and astringent whiner. I see a future for him as a stand-up comic.

I am more like a temp. Once I worked as a temp at a failing company. It was fantastic. I learned a lot. I did not get emotionally involved. I didn't care about the bad management, the bad policies, or the failure of the company. I just cared about getting my work done and learning as much as I could while I was there. That's what it's like for me here. I am a temp in Iran.

Armenians
Armenian is synonymous with Christian in Iran. They have a special place in Iranian society. The Iranian majority thinks that the Armenian minority is more honest and direct than they are. This of course means that the slightest deviation from those expectations is met with extreme disappointment and even prejudice.

All of the Armenians I meet want to talk to me about America. They want to know about Irvine, Pasadena. Orange County, Beverly Hills, Boston, New York, and Chicago. They plan to meet family in America. They are all waiting for green cards or planning to ask for refugee status in Vienna. "Every Iranian has a plan to leave," K's nephew told me.

I sometimes envy the deep roots of people who stay put. Lately, however, I have been so pleased with my rootlessness. I do not envy the Armenian or Jewish populations of Iran with their deep roots in the country and in the history of Iran/Persia/…. I do not envy the sense of history, the memory of oppression and terror, the memory and reality of fear. I am so happy my family made the decision to move to America and cut their ties with a certain type of past. The gift they gave me was the gift of fearlessness, and I thank them for that.

I am happy with my American sense of history: as something that can be overcome. There will always have to be an America: a place where people can go to reinvent themselves and their histories. I get a sense that history remembered is history doomed to be repeated.

The Mullah Factory

1.6 million…
…Mullahs. 70 million people. You do the math.

Iran is a mullah factory.

I made our cab driver laugh…
When I quoted this figure to him. It makes every Iranian I know laugh. I bet it makes the mullahs laugh too.

The cab driver eventually dropped us off at Derakeh which is a small area in the mountains filled with restaurants and tea houses. While we were eating dinner with K's nephew, A's mother called. She had found him a wife: a medical student, something of a beauty, with good prospects. The last time I spoke with her about arranged marriages she told me how much her daughters hated the idea of a young man they hardly know coming around to ask for their hands in marriage. "One time I let a young man and his mother come over to see if E would marry him. E was so angry!" I asked, "What kind of a young man gets his mother to arrange his dates?" A's mother said, "Exactly my thoughts."

This is exactly why we all thought she was joking when she called A to see if he wanted to meet this woman. K got on the phone and told her that all marriages had to be arranged through him first. I told her that A was definitely ready for a wife. "But he wants one with an American or EU passport," I told his mother.

At a certain point, the conversation turned serious. A got agitated. He called his mother all sorts of sweet names, a sure sign of agitation. This was even more humorous to watch than when we thought it was a joke. "Are you serious, my heart's delight?" he asked his mother. "No, no, no." A found all sorts of sweet ways to say no.

A is exactly the kind of young man who does not want his mother to make dates for him.

But at a certain point, most mothers want to see their sons settled down with a nice wife, don't they?

When I asked A about the phone call he said, "It was scary. My mom thinks I am going to leave Iran. She doesn't want me to go. That's why she is trying to find me a wife."

SMS tricks

Celebrating…
…20 years of Intelligence operations…

That was the text message sent to Iranian mobile phone users today from the Intelligence Ministry.

That guy and his 50 planes
A few nights ago Iranian television showed a couple of hours of extracts from the satellite program of the guy who promised to bring freedom to Iran in the guise of 50 airplanes filled with government opponents. It was all designed to make him look bad.

Khomeini did not hate America?
Can it be true that Khomeini did not really hate America? Apparently new writings are being published that show that he opposed the infamous "Death to America" rallies.

Prozac Nation…not quite yet…
I often fantasize about owning the Prozac contract for Iran. The whole nation suffers from depression. There is such a pervasive aura of helplessness here. "No one takes care of themselves," K's nephew told me. "No one takes responsibility. No one takes action."

"The will of the country is so broken," K told me after a week of traveling. "Everywhere I go people are so indecisive and corrupt. It's like everything is broken."

Unlike Iranians living outside of Iran, resident Iranians have an inferiority complex. Nothing Iranian is good enough unless it was made hundreds of years ago. They do not trust themselves. They do not like themselves very much. They are so confident of their inferiority, in fact, that they believe themselves to be the center of the world. They exaggerate everything they do wrong. They claim that they live in the worst country in the world with the worst government. They all say they want to move to America. And then, and then, dig a little deeper and they are proud of Iran and proud to be Iranian. As a culture, Iranians display the symptoms of individual depression. They can be listless, apathetic, and negative with flashes of energy and pride.

Iranians are caught in a blip of history. They cannot see their way out of it alone, but I am convinced that only they can succeed in bringing about change and reform. Everyone asks me, "When will America come?" (which surprises me given the daily news about Iraq… but then, they do not see themselves as analogous to Iraq) I usually answer, "America is not coming."

Iranians imagine a surgical operation that could simply remove their problem for them and leave them happy and healthy. "They think that America has a bomb that just kills mullahs," a non-resident Iranian tells me.

Resident Iranians blame themselves for the revolution. They blame the mullahs for the regime. Iranians in exile take the moral high ground: after all, many were the opposition. That said, a friend of ours recently told us that it was a good thing the communists lost. "At least the mullahs are practical," he says. "I have a friend who says that if we had won, Iran would be Cambodia."

Decorations

Lights
We were coming back from a friend's house last week when we turned onto a street flooded by bright green neon lights and strewn with multi-colored Christmas (well not Christmas…) lights. It was all done to celebrate the birth of Mehdi, the hidden Imam. In the coming week chartreuse and pink flags line the streets of Tehran along with a poster showing a flower-filled soldier who is supposed to represent Mehdi.

Iranians have been laughing at me all week as I struggle to learn how to say hidden in Farsi. I try the Imam who got lost, the Imam you cannot see, the Imam you are looking for. I, myself, got a lot of entertainment from watching them laugh at me.

The lights for Mehdi are an addition to the already light-strewn cities. Every city in Iran has light sculptures. For my American readers, imagine that the neighbor (every neighborhood has one) who feels compelled to do an elaborate, but not too well-done, light show for every single holiday were given an entire country to decorate. Tehran has peacocks and horses and flowers made of lights. Ahwaz has palm trees and butterflies. Many cities by the Caspian Sea have giant roosters (why roosters?) and flower-filled vases. Small towns have more modest tulips. One place, I cannot remember where right now, had gnomes.

Once in a taxi I asked a fellow traveler if Iran was light-crazy before the revolution. "I was just a small boy then," he answered. "I don't remember." He asked the driver if he remembered. "Vwhy Babba," (this is the way I hear it. Iranians say this when they mean the California style "Dude" or the NY style "Yo". In this sense the term was inflected in a way that meant: "Dude: pay attention") "These lights showed up just 5 years ago."

Sponge Bob

I have a confession to make, I love the cartoon Sponge Bob Square Pants. I especially love Sandy the squirrel. She is such an amazing character, with her little aqua suit and her treadmill. So it is with no disrespect meant when I say that many of the mosques in Iran remind me of characters from the cartoon. Imagine the central dome like the head of an octopus with two skinny arms raised to the sky for the hazzans. I can't help but think that the mosques are alive.

Khomeini's tomb, on the other hand, feels like it was designed by Disney for the live action version of Aladdin. It is huge and gold.

Compared to the dusty, drab architecture of most of Iran, the mosques are a welcome diversion. They have such vivid colors and dramatic shapes and style. If it were not for the mosques, Iran would be an architectural wasteland of yellow brick and marble façade boxes. Architects! Iran needs you.


3 days to Freedom
http://www.ahura.info/pressroom/press.html

There is this guy in America with his own television show who claims that he is bringing 50 planes to Iran on Friday in order to bestow freedom on this fine land.

How are Iranians responding? For them it is like the opening 5 minutes of Saturday Night Live. They think it's funny. Everyone I speak to is amused by the whole idea. Today I heard people joking about it. One claimed that it was a plot by the mullahs.

First of all, it is a logistical nightmare. Anyone who has ever landed in Iran's international airport would understand that. I guess he could land in Iraq and then bus the passengers of the 50 planes in, but that seems a bit silly as well.

They could parachute into the country.

They could all get visas and wait their turn on one of the airlines that flies into the country.

I guess we'll all know the outcome 3 days from now.

Normal Life

What does normal life feel like?

K and I recently took a trip to Europe where there seem to be many more devout Muslims than in Iran. The Islamic women wore a range of clothing from complete veil to simple scarf. Islamic dress seems to be more a matter of culture than religion. For instance, Moroccan women use tight black scarves to tie their hair back behind their head. The scarves are form-fitted to their own hair and have interesting knots in them. Turkish women wear their scarves pinned in some complex way on their heads. Their scarves are mainly drab with the occasional drab flower printed onto the scarf. Many of these devout women wear clothes that could get them arrested in Iran. (No wonder devout Iranian women chafe at the restrictions on dress.) Despite this, none of the devout women we saw in Europe showed even a strand of hair.

This is not the case here. I have seen women in chadors with fringe showing. The newest fashion is to wear a scarf that covers neither the front nor the back of the hair. This means that women with long hair let it hang down out of the back of the scarf.

When K and his family and I went out to eat the other night, I was wearing one of the longest manteaus to be seen that evening. Mine reaches my knees. It's last year's model. The newest fashions just cover the ass. I don't really feel like keeping up with manteau fashion myself. I'll just wear mine until it falls apart.

Why do I write this? Because I want to tell you what normal feels like. Normal is that religious and devout women have friends who are secular. Normal is having observant cousins and atheist cousins. Normal is a Republican woman married to a Democratic man.

My great aunt kept kosher, my grandmother (her sister) loved bacon (the other kosher meat), my grandfather's sister shaved her head and wore a wig. K's mother never took off her headscarf. He has a photo of me in a swimming suit sitting next to his mother in her scarf and long shirt. We are both happy. That's normal.

We recently had dinner with some friends in a hidden restaurant with actual atmosphere and professional service. There were all sorts of people there: families with all of the women in chadors and families with women barely wearing headscarves. Our host managed to procure whiskey for us, which meant that we were actually eating and drinking in a nice restaurant. It all felt so frigging normal.

Normal is such a simple thing.

Elections & Locusts

Back…
I wrote a long boring review of the events of the summer and decided not to post it. Suffice to say that the Olympics are way cool. That's all I have to say. I am no longer an Olympics cynic. I can't, however, help hating the opening and closing ceremonies (not the parade of nations, mind you.). Speaking of the parade of nations, didn't it seem like half the countries represented were wearing the KLM flight attendant uniform?

Okay, jump to the present. Two things: elections and locusts.

While the rest of the world might be worrying about whether or not Iran is about to become a nuclear power, (Iranians actually think that the earthquake in Bam was the result of an underground nuclear test.) Iran is worried about locusts. Every night on the news we see footage of the locusts in Africa. There is a very real danger that they might make their way to Iran. These locusts are truly a plague of Biblical proportions.

To all my Iranian conspiracy theorist friends: underground nuclear tests can be detected. An article on the Lawrence Livermore Labs website (http://www.llnl.gov/str/Carrigan.html) tells how the radiation finds its way to the surface through fissures and, yes, faults.

Iranians are all asking me about the US elections. "Kerry was up in the polls," an Iranian friend says.

"That was yesterday," I told him. "Today it's Bush."

"My God," another friend said, "Can't Americans make up their minds?"

There was a discussion of which candidate to support. Half of the table was pro-Kerry and the other half was pro-Bush. "Bush is much better for Iran," the initiator of the conversation said.

"Who will win?" They ask me. (I have noticed that Iranians never ask me who I think will win. They always ask me: "Who will win?" Maybe it's an artifact of the language itself. Maybe it is representative of the conspiratorial mindset of Iranians.)

"Bush," I answer.

"No, Kerry will win," says another.

"If the world votes, Kerry will win." (Which is precisely Kerry's problem, I think. Americans really rankle at being subjected to world opinion. Perhaps it's an irrational response.)

Bob Ross, The Joy of Painting, and a truck stop in Qom

We were on our way to Khorram Abad when we stopped to have tea and eggs at a truck stop in Qom. I like this particular truck stop, which is also a motel, because the restrooms are so frigging clean. There is a courtyard leading to a small mosque and the restrooms for men and women. Painted on the wall is a mural clearly inspired by Bob Ross via his television show: "The Joy of Painting."

Who knows when we first discovered Bob Ross and his happy trees, big brushes, and palette knives? It must have been channel surfing one day and hearing his soothing voice say "There…" My sister watched it with her husband to be all through college. "It was the perfect program for Sunday morning when you'd been out too late." (She probably meant: Sunday afternoon.)

The fact is Bob Ross is everywhere and appears just when you need him. He's like the Virgin Mary. I used to believe that the next great religion would have Elvis as its prophet, but now I am convinced that Bob Ross is a more likely candidate. He has to be much more popular worldwide than Elvis. Take Iran, for example, his show appears on television here and his kits and books are translated and prominently displayed in bookstore windows. Elvis, however, is nowhere to be found. (Although Metallica, The Eagles, and Eminem are all popular.)

I am not sure what makes him so compelling. Posters at the Jump the Shark website talk about his afro and his soothing voice and his anti-cool confidence. Maybe that's it. There is also something so cool about watching someone create a painting or drawing right before your eyes. To me it does not matter how much I may or may not like the style. It is a kind of magic. (I am still mesmerized by Mr. Drawing Board from Captain Kangaroo) And what is amazing is that people actually can learn the Bob Ross style. I saw a whole show of Bob Ross paintings created by a 7th grade art class. I was pretty amazed. Learning the style gave these kids so much confidence.

It's soothing too, to be in a strange country, close to its theological heart, and see a mural clearly inspired by Bob Ross. It's as though his ultra-mellow voice is speaking to you from the painting itself. For those of you traveling to Iran, you can check out the mural on the road leading from Tehran to Qom (unfortunately, you cannot get there from the reverse direction.). There is a motel on the right side of the road that has good pizza, good eggs, good coffee, and clean restrooms. This is not the only Bob Ross inspired painting in Iran. I will pay more attention in the future and list more of them.

I might actually start writing again. Until then, check out this article:

Bad Jens - Iranian Feminist Journal: "Performance in Everyday Life and the Rediscovery of the 'Self' in Iranian Weblogs"

Movies, tests, and…

Protests? No.

Our friend K came over to visit Friday afternoon. We went to an outdoor café for lunch. "I was watching the tv with my brother and it was all about how Tehran is up in arms and that there is a revolution and that there are fights all over the city."

We sat in the garden of the restaurant watching the fountain. I heard "…fights all over the city" and thought of boxing. "Iranian tv?" I asked.

"Los Angeles. They were like 'Get out into the streets. The revolution is happening.'"

"There weren't even police checkpoints last night. This year is a lot calmer," I said.

"Concour," K (my husband) said.

"What?"

"They had the tests for the university yesterday," his nephew explained. (There were 4 of us at lunch.)

"They are smart," we all agreed. (Which reminds me, K's niece and nephew have been here all week taking exams for the university. They could have bought the answer key to the tests, but they did not want to cheat. More power to them, I say.)

Reporters come to Iran and are taken in by the openness of the youth and the agitation and discomfort they see all over the country. They think that everyone is ready for political change. Frankly, I am more and more convinced that the agitation and depression expressed by Iran's youth have more to do with sex than with politics. Lately I have noticed bigger and bigger groups of young people mixing without being harassed by the police. Politics have taken a backseat to sex.

The other thing I have noticed is that television is much better when any unrest is possible. This weekend (Thurs. & Fri) you could have watched The Deer Hunter, Frenzy, Fellini's Roma, Jumanji, a Disney cartoon about Dinosaurs, and more that I am sure I missed.

I saw a brief anti-American demonstration as well. (I did not see all the movies I mentioned… there is too much to do for that). It was clear from the tight camera angle that there were no more than 20 people involved. I think you could gather more people in Austin, Texas.

I am taking a break from writing. Maybe I will write more than I think, but I am planning to take about 5 weeks off. Check back later.

Burnt out

Lately I have not wanted to write. Or maybe it is more accurate to say that I have had no desire to be polite. Part of the problem is that as my Persian improves so does my understanding of the television news. Now, like most Iranians we know, I just want to watch sports news. Aahh, women's archery: great! News about high school wrestling: double great. Water polo? You guessed it: wonderful. Football: can't get enough.

About a month ago, one paper had a headline reading that the government was looking for 2000 volunteers for suicide missions against Americans and Israelis. This, of course, caused ordinary Iranians to laugh. They found it ridiculous.

Last week, the Tehran Times had an editorial about the recent beheadings. It started off quite reasonably with a tirade against the beheadings and against the attempt of the terrorists to align themselves with Islam. The next step was to give a little slap in the face to fellow Sunni clerics who, the paper claimed, were not vociferous enough in their condemnation. The following paragraph blamed the terrorism in the middle East on Zionist forces and claimed that the beheaders were aligned with Israel.

After midnight, I have caught this little music video in English about how Islam is a religion of peace. It's a kind of We Are the World type song. Only the melody is worse. Listening, I could not help wondering, why couldn't they get Cat Stevens to write this tune? Could it possibly be more insipid? No way.

Cab drivers

Obviously we do not have a car, which is why we talk to so many cab drivers. So here is the cab driver update:

Lately, I have found myself in some customized cabs. One had quilt padding on its ceiling. A little crystal lamp hung from the middle. There was a wild array of checked and paisley fabric with green, pink, and yellow plastic baubles everywhere. I loved it.

Another cab was covered with medallions and badges. There were rhinestone eagles and horses, a pair of lovebirds, symbols from a variety of countries, and a small silver Statue of Liberty. The driver was a veteran of the war with Iraq and spent the trip discussing his experiences in the military with K. He was a gentle and sweet man.

Another had seats covered with cowhide.

One driver told us that one out of three drivers is an intelligence agent. I wonder if he was?

Another driver discussed the Gypsy Kings and the song "Hotel California." (Is there a more popular song in the entire world?)

Another driver was thrilled to find out I was American. "May you live a long life," he told me. "I myself never say 'Down with America.' I say, 'Long live America.' That's what I am saying."

"Iranians are the only people in the world who still love us," I said.

"No. That's not true. Everyone loves Americans. So maybe we do not like your government, but we like the people. Are there nicer people in the whole world? America is a great country, and Americans are nice people."

K actually agreed that Americans are nice. I was surprised.

The driver asked me about Bush and whether or not he would be reelected. I could not say.

Smog

Have I just gotten used to it, or is there actually less pollution in Tehran this summer? I mean, I can actually see the mountains and black junk is not coming out my nose (yet). By no stretch of the imagination is the air clean, but it does seem to be better.

One reason might be that the stinky, diesel spewing, public buses are being replaced by new natural gas buses. You get behind one of those buses and you don't smell a thing. It's great.


Oh yeah… and one more thing about my Dad…
Last night before I went to bed, I was thinking about mushball when I remembered the Dear Abby part of the story… so here goes.

There were a few times when there were not enough men for both teams. On those days (which were rare), my father would play for both teams. He would stay in the outfield the whole game, taking just a couple of minutes each inning to bat. I did not understand how he could play for both teams. I remember asking him, "How can you play against yourself?" I don't remember his answer, but I do remember his laugh.

What I did learn is that it is possible to be both competitive and cooperative. And everyone has more fun when the two are combined.

Thanks.