Snow, internet…
There was a lot of snow here in Iran. Northern Tehran looked like a Christmas postcard with the evergreens covered in white snow. I associate the snow with my Internet problems, but that is probably not fair. It’s probably the new restrictions on internet sites that are causing all of the problems. The same thing happened last year when the government tried to forbid free internet use. In the end, they relented somewhat (not 100%). I mean, even extremists need to do business over the internet.
They turned off the gas for several days in parts of Tehran. People did not have heat or hot water for several days. Iran does not have enough gas to go around. They ran out. “The government’s first priority is pocketing the money from gas sales,” a fellow taxi passenger complained. “They don’t care about us.”
Who knows if it was the lack of gas that led to the tragic fire in one of Tehran’s oldest mosques? Sixty people were killed when something fell on the oil-burning heater in the women’s section of the mosque. The word in the taxis is that it was not an accident. “There was an explosion. It was a bomb,” a driver explained to us.
“I have a friend who works next door. He heard the explosion. It was a bomb,” my fellow traveler agrees.
I am sure it was an accident.
“After 26 years of hearing their lies, how can we believe a word they say?” Our driver said. (Everyone knows who “they” is, right?)
“I don’t hear them,” I reply.
“You’re lucky that you have not spoken our language for the last 26 years,” our driver laughs.
K’s TV rant
“Take a hot shower now because who knows when our gas will be turned off,” K said. “But you’ll notice that we always have television. That’s because the government doesn’t want us to forget them: it’s all mullah, all the time. This is Iranian tv: flower, flower, waterfall, bird, mountain, flower, river, butterfly, mullah, water, mountain, sky, mullah, flower.”
“Don’t forget crying,” I added.
The Islamic month of Moharram has begun. This is the month that commemorates Hossein’s martyrdom, which means that the crying has begun all over again. The television is filled with men crying. One tells the story. The others cry. Last year, I was mesmerized by the occasion. The singing and stories can be so beautiful. Unfortunately, most of what is shown is so filled with bathos that your gut reaction is that you are watching comedy. That said, our neighborhood has one of the best azans (religious singers) that I have ever heard. I am looking forward to following his group as they march through the neighborhood.
You know all of those months we have: national dairy month? Hispanic heritage month? Kite flying month? Etc… Imagine if the only entertainment you had during those months was from your grade school teachers, earnestly trying to get you interested in these months with filmstrips and activities? Do you have that picture in your mind? Okay, that’s Iranian tv.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Fajr TV
It’s been a week of revolutionary tv punctuated with French spy movies. Two days ago I was channel surfing when I caught sight of chanting masses with their red, blood-covered hands lifted high in the air. My stomach turned as I remembered my friends’ stories of being beaten during the marches. I could not see the red hands without imagining them at the other end of the blood.
Later in the week, the day before the 26th anniversary of Khomeini’s arrival in Tehran, channel 2 showed a documentary about the revolution over and over again. The scenes look like a French film from the 70s. Most of the men are wearing flared pants and sporting big, thick mustaches. There is something touching and heart-wrenching about the documentary. The people in the streets are so excited, so filled with optimism and enthusiasm. The shah looks so sad and filled with regret. It is somewhat painful to watch this documentary. It is different from most of the other clips they show of the revolution. Most of the others are carefully edited to show only the Islamic part of the revolution. The documentary shown on the day before the anniversary is quieter and less contrived.
“Khomeini’s speech on arriving in Iran is now forbidden,” I am told. Many of his writings are also forbidden.
Those serials I wrote about earlier: the ones that portray the time of the shah… Remember those? K has forbidden anyone to watch them in our home. “The way they portray Jews may be ridiculous,” he tells me, “but the way they portray women is just nasty. They turn women into monsters who only care about money and control. The men are weaklings who are manipulated by the women.”
“They want you to think that in the time of the shah, women controlled everything,” his sister comments.
Another serial we don’t watch.
It’s been a week of revolutionary tv punctuated with French spy movies. Two days ago I was channel surfing when I caught sight of chanting masses with their red, blood-covered hands lifted high in the air. My stomach turned as I remembered my friends’ stories of being beaten during the marches. I could not see the red hands without imagining them at the other end of the blood.
Later in the week, the day before the 26th anniversary of Khomeini’s arrival in Tehran, channel 2 showed a documentary about the revolution over and over again. The scenes look like a French film from the 70s. Most of the men are wearing flared pants and sporting big, thick mustaches. There is something touching and heart-wrenching about the documentary. The people in the streets are so excited, so filled with optimism and enthusiasm. The shah looks so sad and filled with regret. It is somewhat painful to watch this documentary. It is different from most of the other clips they show of the revolution. Most of the others are carefully edited to show only the Islamic part of the revolution. The documentary shown on the day before the anniversary is quieter and less contrived.
“Khomeini’s speech on arriving in Iran is now forbidden,” I am told. Many of his writings are also forbidden.
Those serials I wrote about earlier: the ones that portray the time of the shah… Remember those? K has forbidden anyone to watch them in our home. “The way they portray Jews may be ridiculous,” he tells me, “but the way they portray women is just nasty. They turn women into monsters who only care about money and control. The men are weaklings who are manipulated by the women.”
“They want you to think that in the time of the shah, women controlled everything,” his sister comments.
Another serial we don’t watch.
Yes Virginia, there is a snowman
Iranians build snowmen too. There is more than two-feet of snow in our garden right now, and it’s still coming down. Our neighbors have snowmen in their gardens, and their kids are out right now having snowball fights to celebrate a snow day! Hurray!
Men wander the streets with shovels offering to shovel roofs, sidewalks, and driveways. They can earn more shoveling snow in a couple of hours than most Iranians do in a day.
The mountains are white. The sky is white. If you drive 15 minutes down from our house, the snow turns to rain.
The little stores have run out of deli-meat and baguettes: emergency cold-weather food.
It’s great here. I love snow. But it does interfere a bit with out internet connection, which is why this is a few days late. Still, the snow is still coming
Iranians build snowmen too. There is more than two-feet of snow in our garden right now, and it’s still coming down. Our neighbors have snowmen in their gardens, and their kids are out right now having snowball fights to celebrate a snow day! Hurray!
Men wander the streets with shovels offering to shovel roofs, sidewalks, and driveways. They can earn more shoveling snow in a couple of hours than most Iranians do in a day.
The mountains are white. The sky is white. If you drive 15 minutes down from our house, the snow turns to rain.
The little stores have run out of deli-meat and baguettes: emergency cold-weather food.
It’s great here. I love snow. But it does interfere a bit with out internet connection, which is why this is a few days late. Still, the snow is still coming
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
It’s the 26th anniversary…
…of the revolution in Iran. Twenty-six years. The television is filled with revolutionary footage, which is interesting because the footage never shows men and women together, and I know they marched together, or uncovered women, and I know that most of the women marching were uncovered. The revolution-related soap operas portray Shah supporters as greedy, ridiculous, clueless, and, in many cases, Jewish. “I never watch the revolution serial,” a friend told me. “It’s always ridiculous.” Every revolution needs its photo, film, and history editors who assist in re-creating events that did not exactly happen, doesn’t it? Don’t trust history you learn in school or in the movie theaters is the lesson here.
Which reminds me, I read little paperback called The Revolutionists about America’s own revolutionists. It was like reading a manual for the Iraqi insurgents (who should, by now, realize how slim their support is among Iraqis themselves) with its stories of Samuel Adams and the Sons of Liberty whose main activities seemed to be inciting the British troops to violence and creating martyrs who could gain public sympathy.
It seems that public sympathy for the Iraqi-based insurgents is pretty god-damn slim. Millions turned out to vote despite the fact that their lives were credibly threatened and many were killed. Think of that the next time you consider sitting an election out because it is raining.
The Iraqis in Iran were, by reports, positive. They were excited to vote and photos in the newspapers here showed genuinely happy men and women casting their votes. In interviews with Iraqis here, they said that they wanted American troops to stay in Iraq. The Iranian government says that it wants the American troops to leave and shows nightly images of the dead and dying in Iraq along with text that says something like: “Democracy American Style,” the Iraqis in Iran want the troops to stay, and Iranians want the Americans to invade Iran.
“Look,” an Iranian tells me, “if Iran and America did not have something going on under the table, then why is Karzai in Iran? Why are our relationships with Afghanistan improving?”
The nightly news showed pictures of Karzai and Khatami signing an agreement to build a new highway between the two countries. “Oh, so now it will be even easier to smuggle drugs into Iran,” I commented.
“That’s what everyone is saying,” said K.
There is no sign of improvement in the official communications between America and Iran though. Seymour Hersh’s article about covert pentagon operations aimed at discovering hidden nuclear sites in Iran made the news all over the country. The day after I read his article in the New Yorker, I was at a gathering with some pretty influential Iranian businessmen who told me how happy they were that relations between our two countries were improving. “That’s not what I hear,” I responded. To which one responded: “Don’t read the news and don’t connect to the Internet and don’t listen to any official pronouncements.”
I laughed.
…of the revolution in Iran. Twenty-six years. The television is filled with revolutionary footage, which is interesting because the footage never shows men and women together, and I know they marched together, or uncovered women, and I know that most of the women marching were uncovered. The revolution-related soap operas portray Shah supporters as greedy, ridiculous, clueless, and, in many cases, Jewish. “I never watch the revolution serial,” a friend told me. “It’s always ridiculous.” Every revolution needs its photo, film, and history editors who assist in re-creating events that did not exactly happen, doesn’t it? Don’t trust history you learn in school or in the movie theaters is the lesson here.
Which reminds me, I read little paperback called The Revolutionists about America’s own revolutionists. It was like reading a manual for the Iraqi insurgents (who should, by now, realize how slim their support is among Iraqis themselves) with its stories of Samuel Adams and the Sons of Liberty whose main activities seemed to be inciting the British troops to violence and creating martyrs who could gain public sympathy.
It seems that public sympathy for the Iraqi-based insurgents is pretty god-damn slim. Millions turned out to vote despite the fact that their lives were credibly threatened and many were killed. Think of that the next time you consider sitting an election out because it is raining.
The Iraqis in Iran were, by reports, positive. They were excited to vote and photos in the newspapers here showed genuinely happy men and women casting their votes. In interviews with Iraqis here, they said that they wanted American troops to stay in Iraq. The Iranian government says that it wants the American troops to leave and shows nightly images of the dead and dying in Iraq along with text that says something like: “Democracy American Style,” the Iraqis in Iran want the troops to stay, and Iranians want the Americans to invade Iran.
“Look,” an Iranian tells me, “if Iran and America did not have something going on under the table, then why is Karzai in Iran? Why are our relationships with Afghanistan improving?”
The nightly news showed pictures of Karzai and Khatami signing an agreement to build a new highway between the two countries. “Oh, so now it will be even easier to smuggle drugs into Iran,” I commented.
“That’s what everyone is saying,” said K.
There is no sign of improvement in the official communications between America and Iran though. Seymour Hersh’s article about covert pentagon operations aimed at discovering hidden nuclear sites in Iran made the news all over the country. The day after I read his article in the New Yorker, I was at a gathering with some pretty influential Iranian businessmen who told me how happy they were that relations between our two countries were improving. “That’s not what I hear,” I responded. To which one responded: “Don’t read the news and don’t connect to the Internet and don’t listen to any official pronouncements.”
I laughed.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Thursday, January 06, 2005
The Persian Gulf
In an issue that united Iranians of all stripes (http://hoder.com/weblog/archives/012895.shtml) and was a constant feature of nightly news here in Iran, National Geographic changed its mind and has decided that the gulf we all know as the Persian Gulf really is the Persian Gulf and not the Arabian Gulf.
In an issue that united Iranians of all stripes (http://hoder.com/weblog/archives/012895.shtml) and was a constant feature of nightly news here in Iran, National Geographic changed its mind and has decided that the gulf we all know as the Persian Gulf really is the Persian Gulf and not the Arabian Gulf.
The New York Times > AP > International > Iran Celebrates Cartographic Victory: "Iran claimed victory after it learned that National Geographic had revised its world atlas to highlight the name ``Persian Gulf'' over the alternative ``Arabian Gulf.'' But the U.S. cartographer said such revisions are common.
Iran had said in November that it would ban from its territory new edition of the atlas, as well as National Geographic journalists, until the map for the Gulf region was changed. It objected to the eighth edition's printing the term Arabian Gulf in parenthesis beside the more commonly used Persian Gulf."
For Whoman
(I am sorry that Whoman is feeling less opinionated now, but I, for one, do not see this as a barrier to blogging. Why should it be?)
What I really wanted to write for Whoman was that it has been a snowy winter here in Tehran. While the snow has yet to stick on the streets, it is sticking in the mountains which are this incredible white with black rock sticking out here and there. When the pollution clears, Tehran is stunning. The skies are a bright, bright blue. The mountains are etched into the sky with whiffs of snow blowing off the peaks. Wow.
Unfortunately the pollution is horrid this winter. Everyone prays for rain, snow, and wind so that they can have one or two clean days. When there is no “weather,” we have these incredibly yellow skies combined with the overpowering smell of ozone. The government actually closed down schools and auto repair facilities for one day in a mostly successful effort to bring the pollution down.
(I am sorry that Whoman is feeling less opinionated now, but I, for one, do not see this as a barrier to blogging. Why should it be?)
What I really wanted to write for Whoman was that it has been a snowy winter here in Tehran. While the snow has yet to stick on the streets, it is sticking in the mountains which are this incredible white with black rock sticking out here and there. When the pollution clears, Tehran is stunning. The skies are a bright, bright blue. The mountains are etched into the sky with whiffs of snow blowing off the peaks. Wow.
Unfortunately the pollution is horrid this winter. Everyone prays for rain, snow, and wind so that they can have one or two clean days. When there is no “weather,” we have these incredibly yellow skies combined with the overpowering smell of ozone. The government actually closed down schools and auto repair facilities for one day in a mostly successful effort to bring the pollution down.
Monday, January 03, 2005
Catch up
It’s hard to believe that there was an earthquake the same day as the one in Bam, which made me think of a panel from Art Spiegelman’s comic In the Shadow of No Towers [Not a link to Amazon: a link to a bio page on Spiegelman with some actual drawing samples]: Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop. [Go to the bottom of the page to see the panel I am thinking of.] Well the other shoe dropped, and it was much worse than the first. The earthquake in Bam started with reports of 80,000 dead and edged down to 26,000 (still a lot). The earthquake in Sumatra started with 500 dead and leapt up and keeps leaping up.
Iranian television news reported that Europeans were celebrating New Year’s and spending millions and millions on fireworks in the face of this catastrophe. I saw the images and said, “Pretty lame fireworks this year: clearly not professional.” K was outraged, “You see how they twist everything to their own advantage,” he sneered at the hooded newscaster. The next day I read this article in the Guardian:
Iranian television has been peppered with Christmas commercials. Some of the shopping areas have Christmas trees up and Santa displays. I predict a full-blown Iranian celebration of Christmas within ten years. Why not? It’s just another one of their prophet’s birthdays. It is easily adjustable to Islam by taking out the whole son of God thing.
Speaking of Christmas, a few nights ago a mullah gave a sermon on television preaching against discrimination against other religions. Judaism and Christianity are part of the continuum, he told viewers. They are equal to Islam. (This was reported to me second-hand.)
Much of the Western view of Islam would have you believe that there is a monolith of belief in the Islamic world and that that belief is antagonistic to any other religion or culture. There is no monolith. There is no one source of interpretation. There is critique (at least in Iran… I cannot speak for anywhere else.) Iranian television is filled with the critique. Iranian society is even more filled with it. There is no monolith folks. Plus, it seems to me that much of the critique has to do with culture and not religion. (Save this thought for another post…)
One question: if, according to reports in the New York Times (okay, so I cannot find the link, so sue me), the American media does a piss poor job representing the depth of religious thought and diversity in America (Sharpton vs Robertson in a religious debate comes to mind), why would you even pretend to believe that they could accurately present the debate within Islam to us?
It’s hard to believe that there was an earthquake the same day as the one in Bam, which made me think of a panel from Art Spiegelman’s comic In the Shadow of No Towers [Not a link to Amazon: a link to a bio page on Spiegelman with some actual drawing samples]: Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop. [Go to the bottom of the page to see the panel I am thinking of.] Well the other shoe dropped, and it was much worse than the first. The earthquake in Bam started with reports of 80,000 dead and edged down to 26,000 (still a lot). The earthquake in Sumatra started with 500 dead and leapt up and keeps leaping up.
Iranian television news reported that Europeans were celebrating New Year’s and spending millions and millions on fireworks in the face of this catastrophe. I saw the images and said, “Pretty lame fireworks this year: clearly not professional.” K was outraged, “You see how they twist everything to their own advantage,” he sneered at the hooded newscaster. The next day I read this article in the Guardian:
For Sweden's prime minister, celebrating New Year's after the devastating earthquake and tsunami in Asia felt ``completely wrong.'' Paris draped black cloth along the Champs-Elysees. Elsewhere, prayers substituted for parties in the final minutes of 2004.
Even for those far from Asian and African shores where the giant waves killed more than 120,000, the disaster was too overwhelming for a carefree leap into 2005.
Iranian television has been peppered with Christmas commercials. Some of the shopping areas have Christmas trees up and Santa displays. I predict a full-blown Iranian celebration of Christmas within ten years. Why not? It’s just another one of their prophet’s birthdays. It is easily adjustable to Islam by taking out the whole son of God thing.
Speaking of Christmas, a few nights ago a mullah gave a sermon on television preaching against discrimination against other religions. Judaism and Christianity are part of the continuum, he told viewers. They are equal to Islam. (This was reported to me second-hand.)
Much of the Western view of Islam would have you believe that there is a monolith of belief in the Islamic world and that that belief is antagonistic to any other religion or culture. There is no monolith. There is no one source of interpretation. There is critique (at least in Iran… I cannot speak for anywhere else.) Iranian television is filled with the critique. Iranian society is even more filled with it. There is no monolith folks. Plus, it seems to me that much of the critique has to do with culture and not religion. (Save this thought for another post…)
One question: if, according to reports in the New York Times (okay, so I cannot find the link, so sue me), the American media does a piss poor job representing the depth of religious thought and diversity in America (Sharpton vs Robertson in a religious debate comes to mind), why would you even pretend to believe that they could accurately present the debate within Islam to us?
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
The military police
This is something that I have wanted to write about for awhile: the uniforms of the Iranian military police. They wear these outfits that look like they were designed for the Tintin cartoon strip. And the worst part of it is, they know how frigging silly they look. It’s clear that they are embarrassed by their uniforms. The worst part of the uniform is their white boots. In combination with their red hats, they become doubly silly looking. The young men slink in their uniforms. They appear as though they are trying to make themselves smaller. They look like they *know* they have “kick me” signs taped to their backs that they are not allowed to remove.
They are out in force these days assisting the traffic cops with their efforts to improve the driving habits of Iranians. Today, as I strolled to do my shopping our corner was just filled with these guys. There were three of the guys in the silly uniforms looking with envy at their colleagues, the traffic cops, in their sleek black boots, shiny black jackets, and helmets. One of the traffic cops had a microphone on and was urging drivers to follow basic driving etiquette. When a motor biker zoomed through a red light he called, “Hajh Agha, Hajh Agha!” (Mr. Hajh – doesn’t really translate well). The biker paid no attention. Those calls were joined by, “Faster! Move on! Drive on! Stop! Make your turn!” and other helpful hints.
Just to ease your mind… I’ve been told that Iran is getting new uniforms for the military police. (I don’t really think they are the military police, but Iranians tell me they are.)
This is something that I have wanted to write about for awhile: the uniforms of the Iranian military police. They wear these outfits that look like they were designed for the Tintin cartoon strip. And the worst part of it is, they know how frigging silly they look. It’s clear that they are embarrassed by their uniforms. The worst part of the uniform is their white boots. In combination with their red hats, they become doubly silly looking. The young men slink in their uniforms. They appear as though they are trying to make themselves smaller. They look like they *know* they have “kick me” signs taped to their backs that they are not allowed to remove.
They are out in force these days assisting the traffic cops with their efforts to improve the driving habits of Iranians. Today, as I strolled to do my shopping our corner was just filled with these guys. There were three of the guys in the silly uniforms looking with envy at their colleagues, the traffic cops, in their sleek black boots, shiny black jackets, and helmets. One of the traffic cops had a microphone on and was urging drivers to follow basic driving etiquette. When a motor biker zoomed through a red light he called, “Hajh Agha, Hajh Agha!” (Mr. Hajh – doesn’t really translate well). The biker paid no attention. Those calls were joined by, “Faster! Move on! Drive on! Stop! Make your turn!” and other helpful hints.
Just to ease your mind… I’ve been told that Iran is getting new uniforms for the military police. (I don’t really think they are the military police, but Iranians tell me they are.)
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Finger across throat, slide to the right
Most Iranians I meet are really curious about Americans and the way Iranians are perceived by the outside world. If you’ve been reading any part of this blog, you know that. I tell them that most foreigners do not know the difference between Iran and Iraq or between Arabs and Iranians. This surprises and upsets them.
“I watch an American movie almost every night to learn more about your culture,” one bearded man told me recently.
“Then I don’t think you’ve learned much about my culture,” I answered.
He continued, “That’s how I know you do not have the problems with poverty that we do.”
“We do have problems with poverty,” I told him. “We have 40 million uninsured people and one of the lowest health care standards in the developed world. Our poor are fat because fast food is cheap. Iran’s poor are healthy looking because nutritious food is cheap here.”
“That’s true,” he answered.
[I am always amazed at how healthy looking Iran’s poor are. Fast food is still a luxury here, and it is expensive. Many fruits and vegetables are cheap in Iran. Only the rich can afford to be fat in Iran. For less than the price of a Hardee’s Burger, you can have an excellent meal. Meat is expensive. Greens are cheap. Case in point: herbs. Iranians eat tons of fresh herbs. For about 50 cents they can get a gigantic bunch of mixed herbs. The equivalent would cost us about $20. I am always scavenging and saving herb scraps that Iranians would throw away. They think I’m weird.]
The man continued by telling me about family he has in Germany. “Their neighbor is a German woman. She is a good friend to my brother’s family and visits often. She loves my brother’s family, and they love her. Recently they asked her to come visit Iran with them. She said no. When they asked her why not, she answered [the throat-cutting gesture: finger across throat, slide to the right]. We were so disappointed that she felt that way about us.”
[Another reason that poor men look especially good in Iran is that they cannot afford to be fashion victims. Young Iranian men have a pathetic sense of style (sorry boys). They use way too much hair gel and shape their hair into bizarre shapes. They sport odd shaped facial hair growths, cell phones, pointy shoes or converse tennies, and wear American logo-wear --- most of it fake. Poor men can’t afford all that shit.]
Most Iranians I meet are really curious about Americans and the way Iranians are perceived by the outside world. If you’ve been reading any part of this blog, you know that. I tell them that most foreigners do not know the difference between Iran and Iraq or between Arabs and Iranians. This surprises and upsets them.
“I watch an American movie almost every night to learn more about your culture,” one bearded man told me recently.
“Then I don’t think you’ve learned much about my culture,” I answered.
He continued, “That’s how I know you do not have the problems with poverty that we do.”
“We do have problems with poverty,” I told him. “We have 40 million uninsured people and one of the lowest health care standards in the developed world. Our poor are fat because fast food is cheap. Iran’s poor are healthy looking because nutritious food is cheap here.”
“That’s true,” he answered.
[I am always amazed at how healthy looking Iran’s poor are. Fast food is still a luxury here, and it is expensive. Many fruits and vegetables are cheap in Iran. Only the rich can afford to be fat in Iran. For less than the price of a Hardee’s Burger, you can have an excellent meal. Meat is expensive. Greens are cheap. Case in point: herbs. Iranians eat tons of fresh herbs. For about 50 cents they can get a gigantic bunch of mixed herbs. The equivalent would cost us about $20. I am always scavenging and saving herb scraps that Iranians would throw away. They think I’m weird.]
The man continued by telling me about family he has in Germany. “Their neighbor is a German woman. She is a good friend to my brother’s family and visits often. She loves my brother’s family, and they love her. Recently they asked her to come visit Iran with them. She said no. When they asked her why not, she answered [the throat-cutting gesture: finger across throat, slide to the right]. We were so disappointed that she felt that way about us.”
[Another reason that poor men look especially good in Iran is that they cannot afford to be fashion victims. Young Iranian men have a pathetic sense of style (sorry boys). They use way too much hair gel and shape their hair into bizarre shapes. They sport odd shaped facial hair growths, cell phones, pointy shoes or converse tennies, and wear American logo-wear --- most of it fake. Poor men can’t afford all that shit.]
The University Directors…
…Are frustrated and angry. This is no secret. This is taxi-talk, man-on-the-street talk, tv-talk, Khameini-talk.
In one car our driver said: “I was watching tv, and I could not believe it! There was a meeting with the directors of all these universities and Khameini was there and the cameras were there and they were complaining about bad management. I called Hajh Agha [Mr. Hajh refers to any man who has been to Mecca or any man at all depending on the speaker] and I said, ‘Turn on the tv! The university directors are saying what you are saying, and they are saying it to Khameini!’”
In another car we heard:
“I was watching with my sister, and we were in shock. I turned to her and asked: ‘Was there a revolution I did not hear about?’ There were university directors from all over the country, and they were so frustrated that they could not keep their mouths shut. ‘Our country’s problems aren’t big,’ one said. ‘They are complex and knotty, and they need delicate hands to untangle. We don’t have delicate hands, but if we look hard enough we can find someone who does.’”
We made comments about the hands comment. I asked, “Who do they mean by the someone?”
K answered, “I don’t know.” No one else in the car knew either.
The conversation continued: “There was a woman from Isfahan who said: ‘We don’t have money; we don’t have resources; we have people in positions that they should not be; and people who should be in those positions that are not.’”
They are speaking for the entire country.
…Are frustrated and angry. This is no secret. This is taxi-talk, man-on-the-street talk, tv-talk, Khameini-talk.
In one car our driver said: “I was watching tv, and I could not believe it! There was a meeting with the directors of all these universities and Khameini was there and the cameras were there and they were complaining about bad management. I called Hajh Agha [Mr. Hajh refers to any man who has been to Mecca or any man at all depending on the speaker] and I said, ‘Turn on the tv! The university directors are saying what you are saying, and they are saying it to Khameini!’”
In another car we heard:
“I was watching with my sister, and we were in shock. I turned to her and asked: ‘Was there a revolution I did not hear about?’ There were university directors from all over the country, and they were so frustrated that they could not keep their mouths shut. ‘Our country’s problems aren’t big,’ one said. ‘They are complex and knotty, and they need delicate hands to untangle. We don’t have delicate hands, but if we look hard enough we can find someone who does.’”
We made comments about the hands comment. I asked, “Who do they mean by the someone?”
K answered, “I don’t know.” No one else in the car knew either.
The conversation continued: “There was a woman from Isfahan who said: ‘We don’t have money; we don’t have resources; we have people in positions that they should not be; and people who should be in those positions that are not.’”
They are speaking for the entire country.
Sunday, December 19, 2004
I'm acting like a blogger. I am linking to an article--maybe not a blog, but still...
The first paragraph of Thomas Friedman's opinion piece made me laugh out loud. I read it to an Iranian friend who also laughed. Neither of us had to read the second paragraph to know the right response...
The New York Times > Opinion > Op-Ed Columnist: A Political Arabesque:
The first paragraph of Thomas Friedman's opinion piece made me laugh out loud. I read it to an Iranian friend who also laughed. Neither of us had to read the second paragraph to know the right response...
The New York Times > Opinion > Op-Ed Columnist: A Political Arabesque:
"I have long believed that any American general or senior diplomat who wants to work in Iraq should have to pass a test. It would be a very simple test. It would consist of only one question: 'Do you think the shortest distance between two points is a straight line?'
If you answered 'Yes,' you would not be allowed to work in Iraq. You could go to Korea, Japan or Germany - but not Iraq. Only those who understand that in the Middle East the shortest distance between two points is never a straight line should be allowed to carry out U.S. policy there."
Friday, December 17, 2004
One nation, under God
I read an editorial in some respectable newspaper somewhere that critiqued the pledge of allegiance and the late addition of “One nation under God.” (And, once again, I am proving to be a horrid blogger because I did not blog it at the time and cannot find it now…) The writer provided a whole list of groups who could be offended by this reference including Muslims. This, the writer claimed, was because it mentioned God and not Allah.
Allah means God. It’s just the Arabic word for God. My Koran is translated into Persian and English. In the Persian translation, Allah is Khoda. Khoda is the Persian word for God. In my English version, however, Allah is Allah. The Torah is the Tawrat. Jesus is Isa. Mary is Maryum. Moses is Musa. Abraham is Ibrahim. Jonah is Younes. And on and on. This poor translation makes it seem as though Islam is something other than a continuation of Judeo-Christianity.
In the Koran, God is still angry with his chosen people (an anger begun in the Old Testament or Tawrat). That has not changed. I expect he will remain angry. I think most members of the tribe would agree with me in this statement. The Koran continually refers to God’s need to hold a mountain over the heads of his chosen tribe in order to get them to accept his word. That’s nothing new, is it?
(No matter what kind of feminist I am, I cannot accept that God is a she. If that’s true, then I must be a man.)
So, the long and the short of it is, that there may be many reasons to be critical of the comment: One nation under God. But one of them is not that it leaves out Allah.
I read an editorial in some respectable newspaper somewhere that critiqued the pledge of allegiance and the late addition of “One nation under God.” (And, once again, I am proving to be a horrid blogger because I did not blog it at the time and cannot find it now…) The writer provided a whole list of groups who could be offended by this reference including Muslims. This, the writer claimed, was because it mentioned God and not Allah.
Allah means God. It’s just the Arabic word for God. My Koran is translated into Persian and English. In the Persian translation, Allah is Khoda. Khoda is the Persian word for God. In my English version, however, Allah is Allah. The Torah is the Tawrat. Jesus is Isa. Mary is Maryum. Moses is Musa. Abraham is Ibrahim. Jonah is Younes. And on and on. This poor translation makes it seem as though Islam is something other than a continuation of Judeo-Christianity.
In the Koran, God is still angry with his chosen people (an anger begun in the Old Testament or Tawrat). That has not changed. I expect he will remain angry. I think most members of the tribe would agree with me in this statement. The Koran continually refers to God’s need to hold a mountain over the heads of his chosen tribe in order to get them to accept his word. That’s nothing new, is it?
(No matter what kind of feminist I am, I cannot accept that God is a she. If that’s true, then I must be a man.)
So, the long and the short of it is, that there may be many reasons to be critical of the comment: One nation under God. But one of them is not that it leaves out Allah.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
A nation of hypocrites
What does enforcing an interpretation of religious beliefs on the unwilling do? It creates a nation of hypocrites.
What does enforcing an interpretation of religious beliefs on the willing do? It creates a minority of disgusted believers.
What believer needs or wants to be forced to believe? No one that I know of. It’s insulting.
We were in the home of a devout woman. She has been to Mecca 5 times. She can chant the Koran in a deep gravelly voice. I am certain that she is trying to die on a pilgrimage to Mecca. But boy does she resent the mullah-ocracy. I was a bit shocked by some of the things that were said about them.
It’s no real surprise though. The mullahs in Iran represent bureaucracy more than religion and where is there a people anywhere in the world who loves their bureaucrats?
What does enforcing an interpretation of religious beliefs on the unwilling do? It creates a nation of hypocrites.
What does enforcing an interpretation of religious beliefs on the willing do? It creates a minority of disgusted believers.
What believer needs or wants to be forced to believe? No one that I know of. It’s insulting.
We were in the home of a devout woman. She has been to Mecca 5 times. She can chant the Koran in a deep gravelly voice. I am certain that she is trying to die on a pilgrimage to Mecca. But boy does she resent the mullah-ocracy. I was a bit shocked by some of the things that were said about them.
It’s no real surprise though. The mullahs in Iran represent bureaucracy more than religion and where is there a people anywhere in the world who loves their bureaucrats?
But you cannot play pool with men…
I went out with some friends and K. It was raining and snowing so we decided to duck into this upscale Chuckie Cheese type place (without Chuckie and all the cheese…). There were lots of families there playing air hockey and vending games. We went upstairs to play pool.
It was fun until the morals police came to tell me I could not play. I had an overwhelming urge to throw off my headscarf, undress, and dance naked on the pool table. But instead I went outside to take a walk. That was smarter.
Okay, so you can play miniature golf, air hockey, squash, and golf with men. You can sit on one’s lap in a shared taxi. You can ski or snowboard with a man. But you cannot play pool. Must be something in the Koran about that…
I went out with some friends and K. It was raining and snowing so we decided to duck into this upscale Chuckie Cheese type place (without Chuckie and all the cheese…). There were lots of families there playing air hockey and vending games. We went upstairs to play pool.
It was fun until the morals police came to tell me I could not play. I had an overwhelming urge to throw off my headscarf, undress, and dance naked on the pool table. But instead I went outside to take a walk. That was smarter.
Okay, so you can play miniature golf, air hockey, squash, and golf with men. You can sit on one’s lap in a shared taxi. You can ski or snowboard with a man. But you cannot play pool. Must be something in the Koran about that…
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
Response to email
I am responding to this email in the blog, because it is filled with questions that I often receive in emails. It’s from Samantha:
Hello,
I came accrossed your blog "A view from Iran." Firstly, I would like to say that it is quite well written and would like to thank you all for writing your opinions and perspectives when such might not be the best option in a highly regulated society.
Me: Thanks. Anybody who says that the blog is well-written must be smart, charming, and most wonderful.
Anyway, am I right in thinking that one of the writers is an American woman?
Me: That would be me. T.
Someday, probably within the next three years I would like to visit Tehran perhaps for only a week or two, but if possible working with a social work/development initiative.
I am curious as to the challenges big and small an American woman living in Tehran might face beyond the obvious regulations regarding wearing hijab/chador and gender segregations. For instance how do women seek public transport, accommodations etc?
Me: Public transport is no problem. The buses and metros are sex-segregated – Thank God. If you are a woman getting on to a crowded subway car, wouldn’t you rather be in a car crowded with women than one crowded with men? Women smell better. Plus they are nicer when packed in like sardines. The metros also have family cars that both men and women can ride in.
Women ride in the back of city buses. You often see buses half-filled with men practically standing on one another for space while the women are leisurely sitting. It’s not fair, but it works to our advantage.
Intercity buses are not nearly as sex-segregated. Families and couples can sit together, but a single man cannot sit next to a strange single woman.
Minibuses are just crowded. Shared taxis are also crowded. It’s a great place for Iranians on dates because physical proximity (think: sitting on one another’s laps) is permissible.
Accommodations are different for foreigners than for Iranians. Only on rare occasions would a foreign woman be hassled over accommodations.
How does one deal with nationalist contempt (or indeed not deal at all.) Is Iran "safe?" I am not really sure where to start with my questions, so any advice you give is welcomed.
Me: I have NEVER experienced any nationalist contempt. Iranians love foreigners (oh, that is if you are not Afghani or Arab.) On top of that, they adore Americans. I mean, we could not be more loved in Texas itself. It’s such a pleasure being loved. I have often used this space to encourage my fellow citizens to treat Iranians like princes and princesses when you meet them. That’s the way they treat me.
I always tell people that there is no one with more access in Iran than a western woman. We get access to both men and women. The dangers that exist in Iran are no different (for us) than the dangers we face in our own countries. I am not saying that Iran is the safest place on earth. All I am saying is that if you are not coming here to organize a revolution, then you should be okay by keeping up the normal defenses that you would anywhere else.
I am responding to this email in the blog, because it is filled with questions that I often receive in emails. It’s from Samantha:
Hello,
I came accrossed your blog "A view from Iran." Firstly, I would like to say that it is quite well written and would like to thank you all for writing your opinions and perspectives when such might not be the best option in a highly regulated society.
Me: Thanks. Anybody who says that the blog is well-written must be smart, charming, and most wonderful.
Anyway, am I right in thinking that one of the writers is an American woman?
Me: That would be me. T.
Someday, probably within the next three years I would like to visit Tehran perhaps for only a week or two, but if possible working with a social work/development initiative.
I am curious as to the challenges big and small an American woman living in Tehran might face beyond the obvious regulations regarding wearing hijab/chador and gender segregations. For instance how do women seek public transport, accommodations etc?
Me: Public transport is no problem. The buses and metros are sex-segregated – Thank God. If you are a woman getting on to a crowded subway car, wouldn’t you rather be in a car crowded with women than one crowded with men? Women smell better. Plus they are nicer when packed in like sardines. The metros also have family cars that both men and women can ride in.
Women ride in the back of city buses. You often see buses half-filled with men practically standing on one another for space while the women are leisurely sitting. It’s not fair, but it works to our advantage.
Intercity buses are not nearly as sex-segregated. Families and couples can sit together, but a single man cannot sit next to a strange single woman.
Minibuses are just crowded. Shared taxis are also crowded. It’s a great place for Iranians on dates because physical proximity (think: sitting on one another’s laps) is permissible.
Accommodations are different for foreigners than for Iranians. Only on rare occasions would a foreign woman be hassled over accommodations.
How does one deal with nationalist contempt (or indeed not deal at all.) Is Iran "safe?" I am not really sure where to start with my questions, so any advice you give is welcomed.
Me: I have NEVER experienced any nationalist contempt. Iranians love foreigners (oh, that is if you are not Afghani or Arab.) On top of that, they adore Americans. I mean, we could not be more loved in Texas itself. It’s such a pleasure being loved. I have often used this space to encourage my fellow citizens to treat Iranians like princes and princesses when you meet them. That’s the way they treat me.
I always tell people that there is no one with more access in Iran than a western woman. We get access to both men and women. The dangers that exist in Iran are no different (for us) than the dangers we face in our own countries. I am not saying that Iran is the safest place on earth. All I am saying is that if you are not coming here to organize a revolution, then you should be okay by keeping up the normal defenses that you would anywhere else.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)