Journey to Iran

The Journey

We recently spent 14 days in Iran, no, in the Islamic Republic of Iran (IRI), and two days flying in and out, from Berlin to Istanbul to Shiraz coming, and Tehran to Istanbul to Berlin going. A full two weeks in a huge, largely arid country with fascinating people and enchanting ancient monuments and sites, like gardens. No, we did not visit the uranium enrichment facilities – but we saw that notorious installation peeking a bit above ground, most of it underground in a location that shall remain classified…

The journey was organized by the German-Iranian Friendship Society Berlin in cooperating with an excellent one-man travel agency called OrientExpressOnline. Yes, that it was, an express through thousands of years of distinguished history and brief views of the modern Iran. There were 13 of us, plus one outstanding guide, Harmut Niemann of Orient Express, and the Friendship Society person, an Iranian lady; Parto Teherani, I was the only one with an American passport and that was not unimportant, as we found out.

The official reason for the trip were visits to the famed Iranian gardens which have come under UNESCO protection as world cultural heritage monuments. The cities we visited – between vast stretches of the Iranian deserts – were Shiraz, Kerman, Tabas, Yazd, Na’in, Isfahan, Natanz, Kashan – almost Qom - and finally Tehran. Several thousand miles, or so it seemed, in a comfortable Volvo-powered bus.

Summing up

We are very happy to have visited Iran. With the gardens, the many monument sites and the old and newer cities, we learned a great deal about this very ancient conquering and much-conquered country whose contribution to world culture is remarkable. Being among the very few western tourists (we did see others, all in white, on their way to Mecca), we were welcomed centers of attention wherever we went and enjoyed that very much. It was quite obvious that Iran’s political, religious and economic situation is having a major impact on life in Iran. Tourists feel that, too, because investments in and experience with what tourists expect are somewhat lacking. Both Vietnam and Cuba are much more successful in that business – which is not high priority for the state in Iran.

And why Iran?

Well, if the choice is between Iraq, adjoining the country to the west, and Afghanistan, just over the mountains to the east, the decision was easy; by comparison, Iran is in a state of, well, peace. Seriously, I have had an affection for Iranians ever since I made friends with an Iranian boy at a Heidelberg, Germany, high school. He had been sent there by his Iranian parents; he later studied medicine in Germany.

And Hanne, my adventurous (Cuba, Vietnam…) wife, had long been friends with Parto Teherani who had just finished her long career teaching at Berlin’s Humboldt University. And that friend had long been encouraged by her German friends to take them to Iran. And so she did, the central purpose of the trip being extensive visits to those famous Iranian gardens.

The Country

The Islamic Republic is huge, five times as large as Germany, more like Alaska. It has been the crossroads for trade and migration for thousands of years, with the Silk Road just one of the examples of the country’s relation between Asia and Europe. A population of about 80 million resides in only 7% of the area, with the center a vast desert region, the Kavir desert – hundreds of bus miles long and wide as we found out. Huge salt lakes glisten in the thin air of the high plateau.

 

The severe economic situation of the country is well-known and its complicated background is better left to the experts. I briefed myself, of course, with the online CIA country report but I think there are probably other equally valid alternative description of the IRI. Obvious are the effects of the international embargo that has seriously curtailed the much-needed oil exports, capital inflows and financial transaction in general. Inflation is rampant and prices for the visiting tourists sometimes amazingly low – a good 12-ounce bottle of mineral water cost us about 15 US cents. We paid in rial, the local currency which we obtained in exchange offices; credit cards and ATM cards are not accepted.

The People

Aside from the glorious ancient sites, we most enjoyed coming in contact with many, many Iranians, in hotels, in the bazaars, on the street, in the mosques – and in the elegant homes of a couple of Iranian artists and families. The hunger for contact with the world is great. Almost 70 percent of the Iranian population is under 25 and they are open and eager to talk. We don’t know if English is taught in schools, but most young people addressed us in English. Most signs highways and in towns are in English.

 

Iranians spontaneously told us that they have no anger against foreigners. They would ask us to “tell your friends that Iranians want to be friends”, but their own government – and that of the West, like America, are the problem. Those comments were very specific when the Iranians we were talking with learned that I am an American.

Veils and Make-Up

Both men and women in Iran are generally quite handsome, the women – what I could see of them – especially attractive. All women must be veiled with at least a headscarf when outside their own home. Even tourist women are forced to wear a scarf at all times in public, starting on arrival at an Iranian airport. Many younger and older women wear the chador, the head-to-toe black garb that leaves only the face to be seen.

In contrast, most scarfed women were exceptionally well dressed, in jeans, flashy dresses, high heels – and make-up to kill. The contrast of the make-up with the veils is stunning. I was very much annoyed with the absolute demand on women to wear veils. Our own tour group ladies wore them at all times and I confess that made me angry, not at them, of course, but at the oppression of a religion.

Religion all Over

Would a western country demand of Iranian tourists that they wear a cross around their neck starting at the airport arrival, in, say Frankfurt – or that men wear a monk’s tunic? The demands of the Iranian theocracy pushed me to the limits of my patience but I kept quiet. Privately, I reacted to the thousands and thousands of large faces of the current or former religious leaders on buildings, in shops, in restaurants with my own personal not altogether positive feelings.

Iran is basically a theocracy where the senior religious leaders have the ultimate decision powers over all aspects of life. The large number of mosques, of course, have always been there, but the powers of the Islamic Shiite religion has become absolute after the revolution of 1979.  We were surprised to learn, however, that in the last thirty years the attendance in mosques has fallen off significantly. Only Friday Prayers are meagerly attended, often with believers bussed in from the countryside to fill the mosques.

Being Watched While Watching

Having an American passport turned out to be a problem from the start. I had checked with the Berlin US embassy and they assured me that traveling to Iran is not restricted in any way. But the Iranian Berlin consulate delayed issuing my visa and wanted more details of my past. When I got the visa in my passport, I noticed that it was for a shorter period than the trip was long. So, in the middle of Iran, I had to go through a tedious extension process. But there was a reason for that.

The tour management had been forced accept a special “guide” because of my presence in the tour. That had never happened to Hartmut, our experienced and respected German tour guide who is fluent in Farsi and married to an Iranian woman. The special guide was assigned to watch me and the visa extension gave the authorities another look at me – I had to appear in person and give fingerprints. The little “guide” spoke English, which may explain why he was picked; and he told me that he had studied in Oklahoma. I suspect he was retired military with special assignments when Americans visit. We got along well, he and I, and our tour had many a chuckle about the need to watch me when and wherever I pretended to take photos of official places. Which I did not do, of course.

The last time I had met Iranian military officers was at the Command & General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, where, stationed as a First Lieutenant, U.S. Army, on the commanding general's staff, I met many of the senior officer of foreign armies that were students at that Army college. Little did I know that so many years later, in Iran....

Police and Military Presence

We frequently saw military installations, camps with tanks in front (no photos, Franz!) and young soldiers in the streets of the towns we visited. Police was only occasionally visible but we felt safe, even in the chaotic traffic situations we had to manage wandering from mosque to mosque.

Road checks, however, were quite frequent. On all cross-country highways, the major ones are well maintained and often beautifully decorated with flowers and flowering bushes. The tour bus would stop at a gated stop and the driver had to hightail it to a checkpoint and report whatever he had to report. Sometimes a policeman entered the bus and we just had time to snap on our seat belts. No passports were checked. The drivers are under very strict regulation to not exceed certain hours behind the wheel – which once, in the middle of the night, forced the tour to request a new driver from a far-away city, our goal. Our man had reached his limit and was not allowed to drive on.

The Tourist Experience

Food:  Eating out is not necessarily a reason to visit Iran. We were told that a real public restaurant tradition had not developed and the menu tended to list the same dishes over and over. Nevertheless, in one ancient and charming hotel in Yazd, a family of cooks in the kitchen prepared for us a magnificent buffet that we all remembered in the other, much more modest establishments. That banquet was served on a great roof-top veranda, overlooking several mosques that glowed in their deep-blue glory as the evening sun set.

Hotels:  Aside from the discrete arrow on the wall pointing the believer in the direction of Mecca, rooms were normal, sometimes very modest tourist facilities. TV showed only Iranian programs, with one exception in Shiraz, a quite international city, which offered a CNN channel that did not show current news, however, only specials that CNN produces on life in other countries. Somewhat challenging are the ancient hole-in-the-floor toilets that always prove, ah, difficult for the age-challenged western visitors.

Historical Sites:  We were lucky to be guided on our tour by our extraordinarily well informed German guide Hartmut whose depth of knowledge of the history, architecture and art of Iran made trudging, sometimes at some distance, from site to mosque to ancient old town, a wonderful experience. A great example of Iran’s very long and distinguished history were the incredible ruins of the ancient palace at Persepolis which was built by Darius the First around 500 BC.

 

 

Gardens:  Our Berlin friend explained the dozen or so very special Iranian gardens, the official target of the tour. Their existence and importance is rooted in the unique Iranian topography – vast high deserts and plains surrounded by bare mountains, some over 15,000 feet high. Historical Iranians (the list of tribes and invaders and empires in Iran is very long indeed) learned to carve tens of thousands of miles of man-high tunnels (“quanats”) into the rock underground, starting at the base of sometimes snow-covered mountains. Their waters were guided underground to settlements and towns – and into the gardens that gave them the appearance and function of lush oases in the deserts. Iranians take great pride in these, mostly square, gardens that are watered by open channels of water that flow through the gardens in the form of a cross ( + ). Trees and bushes and flowers make these gardens truly lush oasis. UNESCO recognized the Iranian gardens are a significant world cultural heritage and right they are.

Mud Walls and Towns:  A remarkable – and oh so photogenic – sight in most the old cities we visited were sometimes quite ancient mud wall structures. Often devastated by the earthquake-prone tectonics of Iran, the mud structures are truly amazing and we could not get enough of these structures, sometimes huge citadels, sometimes small village buildings.

Bazaars:  Of course, we visited all the bazaars we could walk to. The greatest one we enjoyed was in Isfahan, at one end of a huge restored square dotted with large mosques on two sides, an ancient palace on the third – the bazaar on the fourth. Compared with the bazaars we have seen in Egypt and Turkey, the Iranian variety often have artisans of many kinds hammering and carving and creating their beautiful crafts. The ancient handicraft skills are alive and well in the bazaars where alas few tourists have a chance to admire them. We found the atmosphere in our meeting tradesmen and artisans most pleasant because, as compared to the rough and pushy store keepers in, for example, Egypt, Iranians in the bazaars where without exception polite and responded to our inquiries only when asked.

Almost in Qom and then Tehran

We much wanted to walk through the inner sanctum of Shiite Iran, the ancient city of Qom. But our Iranian driver refused to take the bus to even the outskirts of the holy city, we don’t know why. Here the real power of the Iranian state resides, where the revolutionary leader Khoemini went after toppling the Shah. We saw his, Khoemini’s immense multiple-mosque burial place, but only from the parking lot near it. I was glad not have to pay respect that man in his mausoleum.

A short bus ride took us to Tehran, capital city of Iran, an immense, 15-million people metropolitan area, where we ended our exploration of the country. The snow-covered Elburs mountain range towers over this busy, noisy city. It is dotted by a large number of meticulously maintained parks that we enjoyed. We visited the, surprise, surprise, beautifully restored residences and palaces of the last shah, Reza Pahlevi and those of his father, the first of the so-called dynasty (the father appointed himself emperor after a brief career as army sergeant).

 

Not many foreigners visit Tehran, it seems. So few in fact, that postcards of this great city were nowhere to be found! How could we prove to family and friends that we actually were there? The city’s newsstands also offered not a single foreign newspaper or magazine – only an English-language news summary issued by a government agency that carefully selects only the blandest of news stories.

From our bus, I saw the huge American embassy, its walls covered with massive propaganda slogans, site of the infamous hostage-taking in November of 1979, lasting until January of 1981; in another city, we saw a large roadside billboard, in the middle of town, that thanked Allah for sending a sandstorm to down the U.S. helicopters that were making an attempt to free the American hostages in Tehran.

In and around Tehran and all over Iran we noted that cities are well taken care of. While many new building skeletons remind one that the severe shortage of capital is pinching Iran badly, we were surprised, over and over, by the care cities take to landscape roadways with trees and flowers, not only in parks. We compared this to our modern German cities, like Berlin, where tight budgets are reducing or eliminating landscaped public spaces. This desert country relishes green and blossoms and lovely park areas in cities and villages.

I noted that building construction, as little as there was being completed, always showed a special earthquake-safe design – strong steel vertical and horizontal beams, with crisscrossed wall spaces to stabilize the finished building. Iran has suffered terrible earthquake disasters in recent years and is taking care to minimize damage with that unique design.

Prost!

The scarves of our German friends came off once in the airplane to Istanbul. Our two weeks on the wagon, not a drop of booze anywhere to be had or seen, much less allowed, were finally ended on the very comfortable and pleasant Turkish Airline plane back to Frankfurt from Istanbul. We toasted a wonderful visit to a fascinating and great country. Prost!

Good Morning, Vietnam!

We went to the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, February 10 – 26, 2013, on an German tour, a dozen or so people, led by a Vietnamese guide who learned his German in the German Democratic Republic in the seventies. On our ongoing search for the most perfect system, we have checked out Cuba, Egypt and now Vietnam. In April, we will we visiting the mullahs in Iran…

“Good Morning, Vietnam!”  This famous movie title is very much visible on t-shirt, hats and mugs. Robin Williams left his mark on the country with his 1987 movie.

 

Touristing in Vietnam – a most pleasant experience. Great hotels, a delicious cuisine, friendly, open people and so much to see – the mountainous north, the beaches in the middle and the fascinating Mekong Delta in the south. Plus interesting cities like Hanoi, Hue, Hoi An, Saigon and Can Tho. The French colonial period is not much in evidence any more, but there are beautiful buildings and parks in the great cities that merit attention. Very actively attended pagodas are fragrant and welcoming sites from north to south. Our tour had inserted a number of bicycle tours through interesting countryside and cities or villages. That was a wonderful experience, with children and adults welcoming us with loud “hello’s”.

Vietnam Primer:    On April 30, 1975, Saigon fell and America lost the “Vietnam War”. On July 2, 1976, North and South Vietnam were merged to form the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. The death toll of the war is estimated to be between 800,000 and 3.1 million. About 165,000 prisoners died in “reeducation camps” in the South. Another 200,000 to 400,000 died between the late 70’s and early 80’s, when the “boat people” tried to flee Vietnam. America lost almost 60,000 young men in Vietnam, and another 300,000 were wounded.

Following the economic collapse caused by the mass campaign of collectivization of farm and factories, in 1986, reform politicians introduced “doi moi” or renovation, which carefully managed the transition from a planned economy to a “socialist-oriented market  economy”. The Economist has characterized the Vietnamese economic leadership as “ardently capitalist communists”.

Vietnam has a geographic size almost that of Germany, reaching from latitudes 8°  to 24° north, level land covering no more than 20%, tropical forest around 43% of the area. The country has about 92 million people (about half of them riding around on motor scooters, see below).

Vietnam’s economy has made tremendous progress in the last 25 years. It has been estimated that the country will maintain a very high growth rate in the next decade, making it one of the fastest growing economies in the world. Vietnam is now one of Asia’s most open economies. It also has become a major exporters of agricultural products, but the share of such products is decreasing in importance as technology-based exports continue to increase.

War Memories:  The “American War”, as the Vietnam war is called there, is not much in evidence as one travels in Vietnam. Yes, there is the large “War Remnants” museum in Saigon (officially now Ho Chi Min City) that displays the horrors of the war on several floors of documents, photos and munitions as well as fragments of shot-down airplanes, like a B-52. Outside in the courtyard, a large display of American tanks, helicopters and F-4 fighter planes. But in the countryside and in the cities of Hanoi and Saigon, we saw no signs of the tremendous bombing damage America inflicted on the country in eight years of war. But my American passport raised no eyebrows.

You can imagine my very personal reaction to Vietnam’s war history when I tell you that I was a U.S. Army officer between 1963 and 1965 and I was discharged just as the war was getting very bad. I know of several fellow officers who did not return from Vietnam. I also know that I would have agreed to go, if I had been assigned to the war zone. But only a few years later, my attitude had changed dramatically, as did that of millions of fellow American when in 1968 and 1969, I was marching with protesters around the White House and the Justice Department, urging the government to end this senseless war.

The People:  To our surprise, English in not spoken well by many, even in the four-star hotels we often stayed in. We were told that the language of the enemy was simply not taught for many years after the war ended in 1975. But menus are in English and tourism is a major industry that is slowly having an impact on language skills, too. We experienced the Vietnamese as open and friendly and incredibly energetic – almost everybody seems to have a store, even if it is only stool and a charcoal fire on a sidewalk.

92 Million People, 46 Million scooters:  City streets, from the Chinese border in the north to the Mekong delta in the south are filled with, yes, well over 46 million scooters. Fortunately. Because 46 million cars would simply not fit on the very basic streets and highways of that long and narrow country. Traffic is incredibly noisy, totally confusing and unimpeded by most traffic lights and rules of the right-of-way. But it flows, with horns blaring – but tempers very calm with busses and cars and trucks – and millions of scooters - coexisting peacefully.

Capitalist Communists:  Taking their cue from the not-much-loved neighbor China in the north, the Vietnamese have calmly transcended the restrictive boundaries of a centrally planned economy and created a largely free market place for private investment, large and small. The country is a major producer of goods that are found in the stores of Europe and the U.S.. While the state is still a one-party communist country, the party is not much in evidence. Occasion posters will carry the hammer-and-sickle emblem of the Party, in cities and in the countryside, and Uncle Ho, founding father Ho Chi Min is honored, much like Fidel Castro in Cuba, with innumerable statues and pictures. The feeling in Vietnam was much freer than in Cuba, with very few uniforms in the streets and no tedious em- and disembarkation procedures entering and leaving the country.

Pushy Minorities:  We spent a few days among the Black Hmong and other exotic minorities (Flower Hmong, Red Dao, Zay, Tay) in the far north of Vietnam. They have one aim – getting dollars from tourists. Their pushy and voluble approach quickly got on our nerves and made us avoid them when possible, taking pictures of their colorful dress and headgear from a safe distance only. There are over 50 minorities in the country, all speaking very different languages. We were reminded, unpleasantly, of the hordes of begging and selling crowds in Egypt and India…

Young Worshippers Everywhere:  Visiting many pagodas we noticed that they are much attended, in large numbers also by younger people. They burn long thin incense sticks that spread their fragrant smoke throughout. We observed rows and rows of scooters right in front of the pagodas. Western churches should be so lucky. Ancestor worship is deeply engrained in the Vietnamese and Chinese cultures.

Food & Drink:  What a pleasant surprise! Having tasted Vietnamese food in the U.S. and in Europe – and not finding it very interesting – we can say that we very much enjoyed our many different meals in the mountains, in the small cities and in Hanoi, Hoi An, and Saigon. We followed in the footsteps of Bill Clinton and First Daughter Chelsea when we ate a delicious lunch in a now very famous, and very simple, restaurant in Saigon the President visited in 2000. We also remember the delicious Vietnamese breakfasts in our fancy hotel, the perfect bowls of made-to-order soups and much, much more.

Money, Money:  The Vietnamese dong currency exchanges at about 20,000 to the dollar. Took us a while to quickly translate that a “Tiger” or “Saigon” or “Hanoi” beer (“bia”, as the cans and bottles are labeled), at 30,000 dong really cost only $1.50 or €1.15. You will understand that we had much practice doing this calculation because temperatures, especially in the south, were often well above 90 degrees with high humidity; Saigon is only 8 degrees north of the equator. Local wines are simple, not expensive, but very modest. Dollars are readily accepted, with the minorities and other street sellers offering everything at “one dollar, one dollar!”

The Year of the Snake:  We were lucky to arrive in Hanoi on February 10, the official date of the Tet New Year celebration – which this year shut down the country for about five days. We saw thousands of banners everywhere wishing the world a Happy New Year and the beginning of the Year of the Snake. Nevertheless, we declined to order the snake menu in a restaurant by the Saigon River; that menu item is there throughout the year, by the way, not only this year – the Year of the Snake.

Vive l’Hospital Francais!  The better half’s painfully dislocated hip joint forced us to interrupt our journey, taking a gruesome, sleepless overnight train from the Chinese border to Hanoi. Ambulance awaited us at the train station there and whisked to L’Hospital Francais, a world-class institution with over 40 doctors on duty. Mainly foreigners and the wealthier Vietnamese make use of this private hospital. A non-invasive orthopedic procedure put the bones back in the right place and we retired to a great hotel where later we rejoined our tour and proceeded on down the coast to Saigon, by plane and bus.

Good-bye, Vietnam! Thank you, for a great experience.

Observing Germans

Franz, Get Used to It!

You Pay for Their Service:  Germany is a highly modern country with industries and businesses that lead the world in total export dollar volume. One of the many reasons why this country’s business is so successful may well be that if you want to reach any companies – brother, you pay through the nose. No matter why you want to reach a company for information, you pay. Okay, they are forced to warn you, but before you know it, spending five minutes with a customer service person will cost you – up to $8 or almost $2 a minute. And if you were put on hold, the money clock was ticking, too. Only recently did the government stop that insane practice. But still, companies that want to sell you something will charge you up front to talk with them. Go figure.

Locker Room Silence:  Germans talk a lot. But not in the locker room and not if they don’t personally know you. Most peculiar. I go to my fitness studio three times a week and as I open the door for someone or spend time in the tight spaces of the locker room, not a word is said. People don’t acknowledge that you just did something for them, they are silent and rush past you. In a park, you pass a couple – and not a word of hello or anything. Silence. In America, you would naturally address anybody meeting up with you in public, especially when there is nobody else near. Not in Germany. Silence. Oh, and if you hold open a door for someone at the Fitness studio, they pass you, in silence. Not a whisper of “thanks”.

Talk Show Madness:  Germans love TV talk shows. But are they different here. I am used to the excellent shows a Charlie Rose produces with important politicians, artists, authors. One on one, for half an hour or longer. Not in Germany. The typical shows will have six or eight or more persons sitting around on chairs with the moderator flailing about trying to get a word in edgewise, but often failing. No talk show, only the occasional news story, will have a single guest who gets grilled by a well informed host. Where is the Charlie Rose of Germany?

Parking Spaces:  A peculiar habit of car-crazy Germany, at least as observed in Berlin over and over, is parking cars in this congested city in the most indifferent manner. In a space that should fit, say, four cars, drivers first to that space will park wherever they arrive. They do not, generally, make space for the other cars that may be wanting to park later, they just leave their car where they stop. The sense of precision Germans inherit in their cradle apparently does not carry into their driving age. Maybe drivers are taking revenge for the incredible tight and poorly organized parking garages in town that make getting in and out of a space extremely difficult.

TV Programs, Whenever:  I like to record programs on our Tivo-like recorder, of course. But most of the time, except with programs I get on CNN or Bloomberg or BBC, German programs are most casually scheduled, with the result that they start 10 or 15 minutes late; we miss the endings of our favorite “Tatort” programs, the crime series Germany loves, or those of the endless documentaries that highlight Germany’s ancient or recent history. In the U.S., programs are nano-second accurately transmitted – because advertisers want an account for every time fraction. Not here, even with programs that have commercials.

German Humor (oxymoron):  Okay, I am spoiled by Jay Leno, David Letterman – and the many other American funny men that frequent the airwaves. No such personalities have emerged in Germany. Yes, there are numerous “comedians” but none have managed to establish a national tradition. They simply appear occasionally in this or that show. Pretty good political humor can be found on stage in small theaters in Berlin and other larger cities. But the typical TV comedian uses make-up that will include a red nose bulb, hair that sticks out yard, baggy pants, funny hats, etc., etc. And there usually two or more such comedians who engage in hair-pulling, nose-tweaking “humor”. George Carlin of Germany, where are you?