Iran Travel Blog From Local Peace Delegate

<p>Rochester resident and activist Judy Bello recenetly travelled to Iran with a Fellowship of Reconciliation Civilian Peace Delegation. While there and after she got back, she wrote an incredibly detailed and engaging report of her experiences there. The photos are beautiful as well.</p > <ul> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=72">Iran and Iraq</a></li > <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=71">Leaving Yazd</a></li > <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=70">The Fire God's Temple and Meybo</a></li > <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=69">Shiraz: Home of Sufi Poets and Ancient Wonders</a></li > <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=68">Friday Prayers in Tehran and On to Shiraz</a></li > <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=67">Museums, the Iranian People and the American Embassy</a></li > <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=65">Tehran Peace Museum</a></li ><li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=64">Morning at the Archeological Museum</a></li > <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=63">Jamaran and the White Palace</a></li > <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=57">Day 1 in Tehran</a></li > <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=56">Arriving in Tehran</a></li > </ul > <p>All the posts are quite good, but I especially enjoyed "Leaving Yazd" where she visits a Mosque with some wonderful architecture, discusses theocratic governments with an Iranian women moving back from Toronto and talks about the joys of Excedrin after your bus crashes into a dump truck (read <a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=70">The Fire God’s Temple and Meybo</a> for an explanation on that)</a> </p ><br /> <p>I wake in the morning with a pounding headache and very sore nose. I am tired and not ready to travel the morning after the bus accident. Our hotel is lovely. Roses are blooming in the courtyard as I cross on the way to the lobby. Why should I want to leave? Maybe the new bus will be delayed. I am hoping for a respite, but the bus is here and it is time to check out. Before leaving town, there are a few more places to visit.</p ><img alt="In the alley behind the Seljuk Mosque, me and my headache among the women." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Yazd-Headache.jpg" /><p>We are going to see the Old Town of Yazd, a very old city still inhabited and maintained as it was 600 years ago. Our starting point is the ancient Jaame Kabir Mosque built by Seyed Rukn al-Din for his tomb.</p > <p><a id="more-71"></a></p > <p>A Jaame Mosque is the central Mosque in a city or Town and this Mosque was built during the Seljuk Dynasty, and is a renowned example of the architecture of that period. The Mosque is located in the middle of the Old Town of Yazd, and we enter through the Bazaar. Outside the gate there are small shops with their wares displayed in front. I am cheered by a shop full of beautiful tapestries, the Excedrin is kicking in, and things are looking up. I make a note to stop on the way out.</p > <p><img alt="Le Anne peeks out of one of the two doors into the the main chapel of the Seljuk Mosque in Yazd. One is for the congregation and the other for the cleric (Rohani)." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Seljuk-Mosque-Yazd-Entrance.jpg" /></p > <p>The Mosque was built in the 13th and 14th centuries beside an even more ancient Zoroastrian fire temple. The entrance to the main chapel has two doors. I was thinking, one for men and the other for women. But no! One door is for the congregation, the other for the Cleric or Rojani. Despite the brilliant colors of the tiles, there are hints of the great antiquity of this mosque.</p > <p><img alt="Doorways leading to the inner courtyard of the Seljuk Mosque in Yazd." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/SeljukMosque-Yazd.jpg" /></p > <p>Among the designs on the walls of an interior courtyard, there is a vase with flowers that has a distinctly Zoroastrian symbolism. Seyed elaborates on the underlying integration of Zoroastrian symbolism and themes in Shia Islamic beliefs. He says that no one thinks about it that way, but the Iranian formulation of Islam has absorbed the ancient Persian cultural context to the extent where it is no longer separate, but rather a coloring of the living Muslim religion and practice in Iran.<br /> <img alt="A detail in the designs depicting a vase with flowers has Zoroastrian symbolism." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Seljuk-Mosque-ZoroastrianDetail.jpg" /></p > <p>After viewing this beautiful courtyard decorated with Islamic designs composed of tiles in what we still call Persian blue, turquoise and saffron, we go out into a narrow ally, and come to an arched door where Seyed says that he thinks we will all be allowed to enter.</p > <p>It appears, however, that there was something going on inside. There were many women coming and going. Seyed says that it looks like there might be a funeral going on, and goes in to speak to an elderly cleric. I’m thinking, if this is a funeral, this person sure had a lot of friends, and all women at that. I notice some of the women kissing the doorway as they leave. Seyed now returns and tells us that only the women can go in (for a change). We will have to remove our shoes and put on a chador before entering the inner space. Later we will learn that this is a special remembrance of a female saint who rests here, but when we enter, I don’t understand this. We walk into the courtyard and removed our shoes in front of a door where there are light color chadors with flower patterns hanging on a rack. As I put on a chador, and fiddle with arranging it over my hijab, I noticed that some of the Iranian women around us are assisting my fellow tourists to arrange their chadors correctly. A smiling woman in black takes Priscilla&#8217;s chador from her, turns it over and neatly adjusts it on her head. Everywhere we go in Iran, the women are similarly helpful. Even the guards at the Friday Prayers in Tehran offered the seats by their little stove and the pastries they had brought in for breakfast.</p > <p>As I pass through the door, I find myself in a small foyer where a woman is passing out some kind of nuts and fruit from a cellophane bag. I received a generous portion in my open hand as I enter a room filled with seated women, mostly dressed in traditional black chador and abaya. There was a small glassed in enclosure within the room which appears to be filled with flowers. A number of women are crowding round, some circumambulating it, while others press palms and foreheads and lips to the glass. A sea of women fills the space between the center room and the walls. Most are adults, but there were also some young girls. Some were sitting in silence. Others were eating or drinking. To my left, a middle aged woman with a beautiful voice sits with her back to the wall singing a haunting melody. I feel uncomfortable standing and observing. I would like to sit and meditate with these women, at least for a while. But before I have a chance to settle, it is time to go.</p > <p>On the way out, I leave the chador at the door and restore my shoes to my feet. I noticed that behind the many pairs of shoes lying around the doorway, there was a locker where one could check one’s shoes for safe-keeping. On exiting the courtyard, I offer some of my refreshment to the men waiting outside, then eat the rest myself, sensing that this is part of the ritual. I took away many unanswered questions from this experience. I wondered if this was really a funeral, and if so, who died. Were the remains inside the glass room full of flowers? Why were only women present, and why so many? Later I am told that that the occasion commemorates a female saint who is buried in this place. The little glass room at the center of the chapel is her resting place, and the flowers are gifts from the women who have come to commune with here. I wonder who she is and what her accomplishments might be.</p > <p>On the street, the men are talking to an Iranian woman who has been living in Toronto for some years. She is dressed in more or less western style with a scarf and manteau over jeans and boots. Like myself, she is a computer programmer, and she apparently shares some of my frustration with sitting in front of a computer incarnating someone else’s will. I say “I am a computer programmer”. “I&#8217;m sorry, she replies, causing me to giggle. She is a programmer as well. “It’s like factory work”, I say, “but it makes a good living”. “So true,” she replies. This woman has returned home to the country of her birth, and is currently working for a bank in Tehran, creating a distributed accounting system. She is not a fan of Ahmadinejad, nor of George Bush, and she doesn’t hold out much hope for the next election in the US to end the tensions either. We ask why she has returned to Iran, and she replies “It’s my country and I love it!”</p > <p><img alt="Iranian returned to her homeland after 20 years living in Canada." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/EngineerInYazd.jpg" /></p > <p>When asked how she feels about the theocratic government in Iran, she says that she thinks it is a good thing. This is a little surprising, given her other remarks. However, she goes on to explain that when the government and the religious leadership are separate, the people are caught in the middle. One or the other always has you. With a theocratic government, there is only one force to address, and so the people can more directly affect their leaders. I had not considered this line of thinking. This is a new way of looking at the secular vs. fundamentalist arguments that often constrain political debate in the US. When we move on, I wish that I had got her name.</p > <p><img alt="Badgr wind tower visible from Yazd OldTown." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/AirTower-Yazd.jpg" /></p > <p>After this, Seyed leads us deeper into the Old Town of Yazd. It is very old, perhaps 1500 years old. We walk through a narrow alley with a brick floor and tan walls made of mud and straw. There is no roof, but intermittent arches connect one wall to the other. They also appear to be made of mud and straw. He explains that though the material is impermanent and the walls require continuous maintenance, this design is very cool in summer and warm in winter. And if properly maintained, the structure will last forever. He points out a nearby tower. The tower, called a &#8216;Badgr&#8217;, draws the cool air up from the channel of an underground waterway, called a Qunat, so that it is directed into the town during the hot desert summer. There are a number of these towers around Yazd. They are also useful during sandstorms as they form a break against the sand while channeling the cleansed air into the town. The ally we are traversing tends slightly downhill, and Seyed tells us that homes are generally built partially underground here in the desert.</p > <p><img alt="A narrow alley with traditional architecture in the old section of Yazd." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Alley-Yazd-Oldtown.jpg" /></p > <p>Finally, we come to a doorway at the end of the alley. It is the door to someone’s home. Seyed knocks on the door and a man answers. Seyed asked, in Farsi, if we might enter to see the way the house is structured and the man, who is busily buttoning his shirt and tucking it in, surprisingly, agrees. We walk through an enclosed entryway of the same tan mud as the alley. We pass a bicycle parked along one wall, and enter a small courtyard with an empty pool in the center. On a rooftop to one side, there are a couple of solar panels and a hot water tank. Across the way, there is a porch with a couple of propane gas containers and an oven for baking bread. I am curious as to the uses of the pool, but Seyed assures me that it is purely ornamental.</p > <p><img alt="Courtyard of a home in old town of Yazd, is partly below ground." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Courtyard-Yazd.jpg" /></p > <p>As we continue back into the alley, we cross an intersection where one wall has metal hooks protruding from it. This is where you might leave your donkey when you enter. Across the way, there is a door with two knockers. This is a ‘hijab free’ tea house. Men and women have separate knockers. If there are only women inside, they are free to remove their head cover. If a man knocks at the door, head coverings are restored before he is invited to enter.</p > <p><img alt="Two knockers on the door of the teahouse, one for women, and the other for men." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/HijabFreeTeahouse.jpg" /></p > <p>Nearby, we pass a green wooden door with a sign of some sort hung on it. According to Seyed, the sign says that the house is unoccupied. He explains that people are moving out of this area into more modern homes. This is, in some ways a sad trend as there is much to preserve and appreciate here in the ancient heart of Yazd. I think of Negar explaining her architectural vision to me as one that integrates modern design and technologies with the ancient ones that have been successful for a millenium.</p > <p>Seyed goes on to explain that it isn’t always easy to sell these homes, so some people just abandon them, at least for a time. That is the case with the one we are passing. I enquire whether anyone is likely to know where the owners can be found, and suggest that I might buy the house and use it for vacations. This elicits much laughter. But I am serious. I’m still not ready to leave Yazd, so I press on to point out that I am old enough, even by the strict government standard, to own and live in a house by myself. I say I can do the condo thing and rent it out as a vacation home when I am out of town. More laughter follows as I am reminded that, for now, Americans in Iran are few and far between. It is highly unlikely there will be any tenants to share the cost. It’s a shame I think.</p > <p>Soon we exit back into the small bazaar beyond the gateway to the courtyard where the Mosque stands. Tapestries are hung out in the sun where some subtly patterned fabrics sparkle with sequins over dense embroideries of traditional designs, and boldly embroidered quilts of bright colored fabrics seem to dance in the late morning sunlight. The shop is full of these tapestries in all many sizes and shapes along with hand woven pachemina scarves, dyed place mats and napkins, and cheap synthetic tablecloths. All this in a room so tiny that no more than 2 of us can enter at one time. The proprietor cavalierly tosses ornate tapestries, one by one, in a heap on the ground to display them for my perusal.</p > <p><img alt="Tapestries displayed in front of a store in Yazd Oldtown Bazaar outside the entrance to the Jaame Mosque." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Yazd-Bazaar.jpg" /></p > <p>It is a little overwhelming, but I finally select a round tapestry in subtle shades of beige with pastel overtones. It is quilted and hand embroidered with flowers and sequins. There is a thin covering on the back to protect the stitching. I make an attempt to haggle over the price, but am not very effective. The shopkeeper takes few dollars off when I start looking at cheaper tapestries, and a couple more when it turns out I don&#8217;t have quite enough rials in my bag to cover it. I&#8217;m content with my purchase, but I think that my mother and sister should be here. They are effective bargainers even at the mall where I don&#8217;t even try because I think it&#8217;s against the rules.</p > <p>Back on the bus, I am exhausted, but I don&#8217;t sleep. It isn&#8217;t noon yet, and we are heading for Esfehan, another city renowned for it&#8217;s beauty and antiquity.</p > <p><em>*** photos by Mark Johnson (most)<br /> *** and Jane Harries (courtyard)</em> </p >

<p>Rochester resident and activist Judy Bello recenetly travelled to Iran with a Fellowship of Reconciliation Civilian Peace Delegation. While there and after she got back, she wrote an incredibly detailed and engaging report of her experiences there. The photos are beautiful as well.</p> <ul> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=72">Iran and Iraq</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=71">Leaving Yazd</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=70">The Fire God's Temple and Meybo</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=69">Shiraz: Home of Sufi Poets and Ancient Wonders</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=68">Friday Prayers in Tehran and On to Shiraz</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=67">Museums, the Iranian People and the American Embassy</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=65">Tehran Peace Museum</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=64">Morning at the Archeological Museum</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=63">Jamaran and the White Palace</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=57">Day 1 in Tehran</a></li> <li><a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=56">Arriving in Tehran</a></li> </ul> <p>All the posts are quite good, but I especially enjoyed "Leaving Yazd" where she visits a Mosque with some wonderful architecture, discusses theocratic governments with an Iranian women moving back from Toronto and talks about the joys of Excedrin after your bus crashes into a dump truck (read <a href="http://papillonweb.net/wordpress/?p=70">The Fire God’s Temple and Meybo</a> for an explanation on that) </p> <p>I wake in the morning with a pounding headache and very sore nose. I am tired and not ready to travel the morning after the bus accident. Our hotel is lovely. Roses are blooming in the courtyard as I cross on the way to the lobby. Why should I want to leave? Maybe the new bus will be delayed. I am hoping for a respite, but the bus is here and it is time to check out. Before leaving town, there are a few more places to visit.</p><img alt="In the alley behind the Seljuk Mosque, me and my headache among the women." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Yazd-Headache.jpg" /> <p>We are going to see the Old Town of Yazd, a very old city still inhabited and maintained as it was 600 years ago. Our starting point is the ancient Jaame Kabir Mosque built by Seyed Rukn al-Din for his tomb.</p> <p><a id="more-71"></a></p> <p>A Jaame Mosque is the central Mosque in a city or Town and this Mosque was built during the Seljuk Dynasty, and is a renowned example of the architecture of that period. The Mosque is located in the middle of the Old Town of Yazd, and we enter through the Bazaar. Outside the gate there are small shops with their wares displayed in front. I am cheered by a shop full of beautiful tapestries, the Excedrin is kicking in, and things are looking up. I make a note to stop on the way out.</p> <p><img alt="Le Anne peeks out of one of the two doors into the the main chapel of the Seljuk Mosque in Yazd. One is for the congregation and the other for the cleric (Rohani)." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Seljuk-Mosque-Yazd-Entrance.jpg" /></p> <p>The Mosque was built in the 13th and 14th centuries beside an even more ancient Zoroastrian fire temple. The entrance to the main chapel has two doors. I was thinking, one for men and the other for women. But no! One door is for the congregation, the other for the Cleric or Rojani. Despite the brilliant colors of the tiles, there are hints of the great antiquity of this mosque.</p> <p><img alt="Doorways leading to the inner courtyard of the Seljuk Mosque in Yazd." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/SeljukMosque-Yazd.jpg" /></p> <p>Among the designs on the walls of an interior courtyard, there is a vase with flowers that has a distinctly Zoroastrian symbolism. Seyed elaborates on the underlying integration of Zoroastrian symbolism and themes in Shia Islamic beliefs. He says that no one thinks about it that way, but the Iranian formulation of Islam has absorbed the ancient Persian cultural context to the extent where it is no longer separate, but rather a coloring of the living Muslim religion and practice in Iran.<br /> <img alt="A detail in the designs depicting a vase with flowers has Zoroastrian symbolism." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Seljuk-Mosque-ZoroastrianDetail.jpg" /></p> <p>After viewing this beautiful courtyard decorated with Islamic designs composed of tiles in what we still call Persian blue, turquoise and saffron, we go out into a narrow ally, and come to an arched door where Seyed says that he thinks we will all be allowed to enter.</p> <p>It appears, however, that there was something going on inside. There were many women coming and going. Seyed says that it looks like there might be a funeral going on, and goes in to speak to an elderly cleric. I’m thinking, if this is a funeral, this person sure had a lot of friends, and all women at that. I notice some of the women kissing the doorway as they leave. Seyed now returns and tells us that only the women can go in (for a change). We will have to remove our shoes and put on a chador before entering the inner space. Later we will learn that this is a special remembrance of a female saint who rests here, but when we enter, I don’t understand this. We walk into the courtyard and removed our shoes in front of a door where there are light color chadors with flower patterns hanging on a rack. As I put on a chador, and fiddle with arranging it over my hijab, I noticed that some of the Iranian women around us are assisting my fellow tourists to arrange their chadors correctly. A smiling woman in black takes Priscilla’s chador from her, turns it over and neatly adjusts it on her head. Everywhere we go in Iran, the women are similarly helpful. Even the guards at the Friday Prayers in Tehran offered the seats by their little stove and the pastries they had brought in for breakfast.</p> <p>As I pass through the door, I find myself in a small foyer where a woman is passing out some kind of nuts and fruit from a cellophane bag. I received a generous portion in my open hand as I enter a room filled with seated women, mostly dressed in traditional black chador and abaya. There was a small glassed in enclosure within the room which appears to be filled with flowers. A number of women are crowding round, some circumambulating it, while others press palms and foreheads and lips to the glass. A sea of women fills the space between the center room and the walls. Most are adults, but there were also some young girls. Some were sitting in silence. Others were eating or drinking. To my left, a middle aged woman with a beautiful voice sits with her back to the wall singing a haunting melody. I feel uncomfortable standing and observing. I would like to sit and meditate with these women, at least for a while. But before I have a chance to settle, it is time to go.</p> <p>On the way out, I leave the chador at the door and restore my shoes to my feet. I noticed that behind the many pairs of shoes lying around the doorway, there was a locker where one could check one’s shoes for safe-keeping. On exiting the courtyard, I offer some of my refreshment to the men waiting outside, then eat the rest myself, sensing that this is part of the ritual. I took away many unanswered questions from this experience. I wondered if this was really a funeral, and if so, who died. Were the remains inside the glass room full of flowers? Why were only women present, and why so many? Later I am told that that the occasion commemorates a female saint who is buried in this place. The little glass room at the center of the chapel is her resting place, and the flowers are gifts from the women who have come to commune with here. I wonder who she is and what her accomplishments might be.</p> <p>On the street, the men are talking to an Iranian woman who has been living in Toronto for some years. She is dressed in more or less western style with a scarf and manteau over jeans and boots. Like myself, she is a computer programmer, and she apparently shares some of my frustration with sitting in front of a computer incarnating someone else’s will. I say “I am a computer programmer”. “I’m sorry, she replies, causing me to giggle. She is a programmer as well. “It’s like factory work”, I say, “but it makes a good living”. “So true,” she replies. This woman has returned home to the country of her birth, and is currently working for a bank in Tehran, creating a distributed accounting system. She is not a fan of Ahmadinejad, nor of George Bush, and she doesn’t hold out much hope for the next election in the US to end the tensions either. We ask why she has returned to Iran, and she replies “It’s my country and I love it!”</p> <p><img alt="Iranian returned to her homeland after 20 years living in Canada." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/EngineerInYazd.jpg" /></p> <p>When asked how she feels about the theocratic government in Iran, she says that she thinks it is a good thing. This is a little surprising, given her other remarks. However, she goes on to explain that when the government and the religious leadership are separate, the people are caught in the middle. One or the other always has you. With a theocratic government, there is only one force to address, and so the people can more directly affect their leaders. I had not considered this line of thinking. This is a new way of looking at the secular vs. fundamentalist arguments that often constrain political debate in the US. When we move on, I wish that I had got her name.</p> <p><img alt="Badgr wind tower visible from Yazd OldTown." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/AirTower-Yazd.jpg" /></p> <p>After this, Seyed leads us deeper into the Old Town of Yazd. It is very old, perhaps 1500 years old. We walk through a narrow alley with a brick floor and tan walls made of mud and straw. There is no roof, but intermittent arches connect one wall to the other. They also appear to be made of mud and straw. He explains that though the material is impermanent and the walls require continuous maintenance, this design is very cool in summer and warm in winter. And if properly maintained, the structure will last forever. He points out a nearby tower. The tower, called a ‘Badgr’, draws the cool air up from the channel of an underground waterway, called a Qunat, so that it is directed into the town during the hot desert summer. There are a number of these towers around Yazd. They are also useful during sandstorms as they form a break against the sand while channeling the cleansed air into the town. The ally we are traversing tends slightly downhill, and Seyed tells us that homes are generally built partially underground here in the desert.</p> <p><img alt="A narrow alley with traditional architecture in the old section of Yazd." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Alley-Yazd-Oldtown.jpg" /></p> <p>Finally, we come to a doorway at the end of the alley. It is the door to someone’s home. Seyed knocks on the door and a man answers. Seyed asked, in Farsi, if we might enter to see the way the house is structured and the man, who is busily buttoning his shirt and tucking it in, surprisingly, agrees. We walk through an enclosed entryway of the same tan mud as the alley. We pass a bicycle parked along one wall, and enter a small courtyard with an empty pool in the center. On a rooftop to one side, there are a couple of solar panels and a hot water tank. Across the way, there is a porch with a couple of propane gas containers and an oven for baking bread. I am curious as to the uses of the pool, but Seyed assures me that it is purely ornamental.</p> <p><img alt="Courtyard of a home in old town of Yazd, is partly below ground." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Courtyard-Yazd.jpg" /></p> <p>As we continue back into the alley, we cross an intersection where one wall has metal hooks protruding from it. This is where you might leave your donkey when you enter. Across the way, there is a door with two knockers. This is a ‘hijab free’ tea house. Men and women have separate knockers. If there are only women inside, they are free to remove their head cover. If a man knocks at the door, head coverings are restored before he is invited to enter.</p> <p><img alt="Two knockers on the door of the teahouse, one for women, and the other for men." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/HijabFreeTeahouse.jpg" /></p> <p>Nearby, we pass a green wooden door with a sign of some sort hung on it. According to Seyed, the sign says that the house is unoccupied. He explains that people are moving out of this area into more modern homes. This is, in some ways a sad trend as there is much to preserve and appreciate here in the ancient heart of Yazd. I think of Negar explaining her architectural vision to me as one that integrates modern design and technologies with the ancient ones that have been successful for a millenium.</p> <p>Seyed goes on to explain that it isn’t always easy to sell these homes, so some people just abandon them, at least for a time. That is the case with the one we are passing. I enquire whether anyone is likely to know where the owners can be found, and suggest that I might buy the house and use it for vacations. This elicits much laughter. But I am serious. I’m still not ready to leave Yazd, so I press on to point out that I am old enough, even by the strict government standard, to own and live in a house by myself. I say I can do the condo thing and rent it out as a vacation home when I am out of town. More laughter follows as I am reminded that, for now, Americans in Iran are few and far between. It is highly unlikely there will be any tenants to share the cost. It’s a shame I think.</p> <p>Soon we exit back into the small bazaar beyond the gateway to the courtyard where the Mosque stands. Tapestries are hung out in the sun where some subtly patterned fabrics sparkle with sequins over dense embroideries of traditional designs, and boldly embroidered quilts of bright colored fabrics seem to dance in the late morning sunlight. The shop is full of these tapestries in all many sizes and shapes along with hand woven pachemina scarves, dyed place mats and napkins, and cheap synthetic tablecloths. All this in a room so tiny that no more than 2 of us can enter at one time. The proprietor cavalierly tosses ornate tapestries, one by one, in a heap on the ground to display them for my perusal.</p> <p><img alt="Tapestries displayed in front of a store in Yazd Oldtown Bazaar outside the entrance to the Jaame Mosque." src="http://www.papillonweb.net/images/blog/Yazd-Bazaar.jpg" /></p> <p>It is a little overwhelming, but I finally select a round tapestry in subtle shades of beige with pastel overtones. It is quilted and hand embroidered with flowers and sequins. There is a thin covering on the back to protect the stitching. I make an attempt to haggle over the price, but am not very effective. The shopkeeper takes few dollars off when I start looking at cheaper tapestries, and a couple more when it turns out I don’t have quite enough rials in my bag to cover it. I’m content with my purchase, but I think that my mother and sister should be here. They are effective bargainers even at the mall where I don’t even try because I think it’s against the rules.</p> <p>Back on the bus, I am exhausted, but I don’t sleep. It isn’t noon yet, and we are heading for Esfehan, another city renowned for it’s beauty and antiquity.</p> <p><em>*** photos by Mark Johnson (most)<br /> *** and Jane Harries (courtyard)</em> </p>

Iran Travel Blog From Local Peace Delegate http://rochester.indymedia.org/node/6805

Iran Travel Blog From Local Peace Delegate http://rochester.indymedia.org/node/6805