It’s very hard to write about Iranian people, basically, because I need to mention all of them, and not to omit anyone.
My first deep encounter happened in the city of Rasht. There lives the only person from Iran for whom I heard before this trip. His name is Danial, and he’s a good friend of my brother. They met at a medical congress a few years ago in Netherlands, and at his invitation I was introduced to the idea of visiting this country.
At the taxi station he came for me, and then we officially met. His story seems to me a very happy one, and he is the son of a teacher and an engineer. He is a medical student, which he pronounced with great pride. He later explained to me why. Namely, one of the best occupations in Iran is to be a doctor. Health is not for free, and the poor often do not have enough money for treatment.
Doctors live very prosperously, but the path to diploma is very difficult. To enroll in the faculty of medicine is one of the toughest things, and also to end up. But then a secure, well paid job follows. Danial explained to me the way things work in Iran. He explained everything from Persian Numbers to traveling in Iran by bus. He helped me buy a SIM card, paid the internet and taught the basic phrases for communication, and by the end of my trip, my personal assistant remained, who at any moment from any city I could call him and ask for information.
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He even sent me a bus ticket via Telegram app (very popular in Iran), so I would not have to go to the bus station to buy it. In his home, I really felt like a Prince of Persia. I felt that for his family the only mission was for me to feel good. His aunt Bahare led me to Masuleh, and took care of me while Danial studied for exams.
Bahare also hosted me in her flat in Tehran, few days after Rasht. I will always remember his mother because she prepared phenomenal food every day. She always offered me tea, and I had the feeling she was taking care of me. Somehow she became my Iranian mother. Her goodness radiates, her smile is special, and her humble words of the English sound very warm. Because of these people the world is still good.
When I came to Yazd, I didn’t have a host, so I went to a hotel. There I met a young Iranian couple who became one of my best friends. They moved to Yazd to start their life again from beginning. As they said, they lived in Rasht, but they moved to Yazd when the job crashed. They had a ceramic company, but the business stopped, and they closed off.
He is an accountant and his name is Saeed and hers was Solnaz. They are so entusiastic people, so possitive, so honest, that I was shocked. We spent the nights on the roof of the hotel, watching stars and talking about our lives, familes, friends, and all the things that people actually need.
Because of them, I will remember one song for all my life. That song is Pink Floyd – Hey you. Now, when I hear that song, I remember this happy couple and our long conversations, Iranian history, desert, and smell of dust and sand. Those days they realized that Solnaz is pregnant. They are going to become parents, and they were the happiest people on the world.
Their dialect was strange, poor English, but their smile was enough to understand them. They showed me some kind of sugar (I was thinking it was honey but it is not), on wooden sticks, that I got crazy with it (I think it was called Nabat). Green tea with this sugar was the most delicious drink in the world for me, and I drunk it every night.
They were trying to find some apartment in Yazd, and everyday they were going around the city to watch some flats. We were together all the time, and their life story make me think about life. They have each other, and it is enough for them. Their love for me seems like some love movie.
We spoke via skype with Saeed’s twin brother, who lives in Tehran. I met him via Skype, but his brother is a person who hosted me in Tehran at the end of my trip, on my way to Turkey. In fact, I realized I don’t have their photos (except this one). That is a proof that we had great time, so I didn’t have enough time to take a photo of them.
On my way home, after 25 day in Iran, I went back to Tehran to get the bus to Turkey. I texted Saeed’s brother Hamid, and asked him to suggest me some cheap hotels in Tehran. But he offered me to stay in his flat. So I did it.
That is one of the rare moments in my life that I meet twins, and firstly, it was difficault to call him Hamid, not Saeed. Their voices were the same, and their souls too. But Hamid’s English was better. He works in a big Iranian company, and he lives close to Azadi square with his wife Bahare (the same as Danial aunt).
She also spoke English but not so good as Hamid. I spent two nights in their flat. Their friends came to visit them, so it was like small party in their flat. His friend Mustafa came with his wife, and younger friend Hassan was the craziest guy I ever met. He was so hiperactive, and funny and he was talking Persian to me all the time. He called me ’’dadash’’ which means brother. They actually gave me Iranian name, because my name was difficault to pronunce for them. They called me Tary dadash.
Hassan is driving a car without driving licence. He drives as crazy, but at the same moment I felt safe. After a few cups of tea, we decidedto go to the montain near Tehran. We were climbing there I think for two hours.
They treated me as their best friend or brother even though I was 10 or 15 years younger. They respected me because I came to Iran, to visit and see their beautiful country. I felt that and they told me also. It doesn’t matter what is your religion or who are you. you are welcomed there. And I like it so much.
This article is not enough to describe all the moments I spent with the people in Iran. There is more people whom I can write about, but it would be too much long.