Sunday was the day before we flew back home. We spent the day driving to Damavand Mountain, the 18,000 foot peak a couple hours northeast of Tehran. The day was very cloudy, so we weren’t able to catch a good view of the peak, but we still had fun traveling and picking volcanic mint in the fog. In the evening there was an emotional farewell party with good food, friends and much exchanging of gifts.

We are back home now, but I am still a long ways away from fully processing this trip. I am thinking long and hard about the relationship between our two countries. I am overwhelmed by the friendship and hospitality we received in Iran. Even though there is bad blood between our governments the Iranians we encountered look upon Americans in a positive and hopeful way. Shahrokh thinks that despite everything that America still represents freedom to most Iranians.

I want to extend a heartfelt thanks to everyone in Spokane and Iran who donated time or money to help make this trip possible. Without that effort it would have been difficult to bring the boys, which made all the difference for the trip. Their worldview has changed. So has ours. Look for an article in the June issue of OTM and for presentations and a short documentary hopefully later in the year.

Nasim and Jafar.

Abandoned building near Damavand.

The going away party.

Sunrise over Tehran 5:30AM on the ride to the Tehran airport Monday morning. The triangle profile on the left is Damavand Mountain–which was obscured by clouds the day before.

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On Saturday we had two Peace Tree planting ceremonies. The first was at a kindergarten in North Tehran. I would tell more about what happened there but I was distracted by the overwhelming cuteness of the children. In the afternoon we did a second tree planting at Artist Park. This is a park with sculptures and galleries that was the site of Nasim and Jafar’s first tree that they planted over two years ago at the beginning of their worldwide cycling trip. Friends and family show, a couple reporters show up, a contingent of Tehran cyclists arrive. The atmosphere is festive. Pam puts a the small packet of Susie Stephen’s ashes in hole prepared for the tree. Nasim, Shahrokh and I all say a few words. Things get emotional real quick. I hand out Susie bookmarks. Everyone signs paper messages to hang on the tree. We all take turns tossing in dirt. I have a nice conversation with a guy at an Iranian news service who looks like Cyrus the great. (Read the news service account here.) We pose for a thousand pictures. Some people passing by join in. Some seem perplexed–especially the guy in army fatigues as I hand in a Susie bookmark.

The tree is an evergreen planted near the entrance of the park. It will be here for a long time. Our mission is completed. The trip is drawing to a close.

Susie Stephens ashes.

Taking pictures and meeting folks.

My new friend who looks like Cyrus.

Dig the homemade costumes and the sign at the left.

This kid was very excited about the Bumble Bar we gave him.

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Friday.

A great day with Nasim and Jafar in the mountains north of Tehran. We saw some amazing rock climbers, including some young women bouldering. You try doing that in a scarf! We also saw a Iranian pro climber attack a route like I’ve never seen in person before. Wish we could get him a Visa to visit Yosemite. We even tried some rock climber ourselves. I would be lying to you if I said that Zach, Jackson, Tom and I impressed anyone with our skills–but it was fun. Pam wins the commando award for hiking 2 miles and and 1800 feet in elevation up the mountain on a bum ankle. Short post today because I am totally beat and I have to get up at 6AM again. I’ll let the pics do the talking.

The mountains north of Tehran.

A street memorial.

A late night dinner.

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Thursday

We arrive at our hotel a 3AM. I go to sleep with the help of Tylenol PM. I think that’s why it’s so hard for Shahrokh to wake me up in the middle of the night. Why is he getting me up? Jackson has thrown up in the middle of the night. He projectile vomited all the way on to Shahrokh’s bed. Trying to get Jackson–who never really wakes up–into the shower is not my favorite moment of the trip. The shower curtain falls, the toilet paper holder comes off. I can’t get the water to go to the shower head and I have to bathe him sitting down. I slip trying to swat a misquito. The next morning I break the hotel while trying to open it and air out the room. I cut myself cleaning it up and bleed on the bed. In the afternoon we try to go bowling but the bowling alley is closed for repairs.

But then things start looking up. We finally get to see Nasim and Jafar for the first time. Nasim takes Pam shopping while all the men go swimming at Jackson’s request. The swim complex is half pool half bathhouse and provides us with one of the most memorable images of the trip: middle aged men in Speedos having sausage sandwiches and drinking non-alcoholic beer in the pool cafeteria. Pool cafeteria? Seems ridiculous until you’ve spent two hours in the pool, steam room, sauna, and hot and cold jacuzzi? Who knew you could get so hungry.

Jackson and and Zach at first don’t know what to make of the sauna and steam room but after a few minutes they are old pros. Everyone gets very relaxed. It’s just what we all need. I almost have to drag Jackson out of the sauna when it is time to go. Or rather time to go to the pool cafeteria and eats snacks in swim trunks. This is some I wish I could bring back to the states.

The Freedom Arch near the airport.

Dinner with Nasim in North Tehran at a fast food place called Sinbad.

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Tuesday May 13

In a book you can’t tell how big it is. It’s like 20 ancient archeological sites in one. Tombs, palaces, collumns, and some really cool rock animals. Persopolis is the third ancient site we’ve seen today. We also saw the tomb of Cyrus the Great, and hillside tombs of Darius and Xerxes. But todays best experience was people, not places.

We are invited to the home of a cousin of Shahrokhs friend. (If we had the time we could be invited to a meal morning, noon, and night.) They live in a poor agricultural neighborhood on the far outskirts of Shiraz. At first getting there feels like a wild goose chase similar to Abeynah. Once we reached the neighborhood the streets are so bad the van bottoms out three times. And seeing big hunks of raw meet hanging on a hook outside someone’s garage feels a bit weird no matter how normal it is here.

But when we get to the house we are met by a graciosu family of eight. Once inside the concrete walls of the family sanctuary all the concerns of the evening melt away. Jackson helps the two young girls in the family figure out the glow sticks we’ve given them. We all marvel at the classic Persian decor of the home–including the framed flowers wrapped in plastic. The meal, eaten on the Persian carpet in their living room, is terrific–the best chicken I’ve had yet. The conversation is rough, since they know little English, but we manage with our translators as the boys once again use soccer to connect with their eldest sons. They insist we stay the night. We politely decline–15 people in a three bedroom house seems a bit much–but the offer is sincere and Shahrohs says he remember such family slumber parties being fun when he was a kid. At the end we exchange gifts, including giving the daughter some money for her upcoming wedding. She refuses to take it until I put it in her hand and gently close it with mine. No packaged tour would have allowed us to meet people like this.

The family we ate dinner with.

Some shots for the Sponsors at Persopolis: Thanks Bumble Bar and Spokane Indians!

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The Royal Mosque at Imam Square, Esfahan.

The ancient architecture here can be mind-boggling–the colors, the detail, the symmetry, it’s like landing on a different planet. In Spokane a 75 year-old building is a marvel. Here they are 300-400 year-old structures sitting abondoned in a wheat field.

Today we spent most of the day in Imam Square in Esfahan. The bazaar and mosques were incredible, but I some point I just broke down. All I’ve wanted to do since coming here is get on a bicycle. I have been oggling the 30 year-old British Phoenix bikes that everybody has. Finally I just saw a guy in the square with one and offered him a few bucks if I could just ride it around the square. In good Persian fashion he refused to take money and insisted I ride. No need to say that twice. I was off.

It might have been the best 15 minutes of the trip. The sun was setting and the sky was a deep cobalt blue in the mountains behind the city. The colored lights of the bazaar were growing by the minute. Families were strolling and having picnics all around the square. I road the sturdy machine on smooth rock pathways. Nothing could kill this bike. I pulled up in front of the Blue Mosque at the end of the square and gazed back across this amazing scene. Right then the Arabic calls to evening prayer came floating out of the mosque. It ried to stretch 15 minutes an eternity. Even dodging taxis across the square boulevard was a pleasure.

When I got back I find out that Tom had taken my lead and done me one better. He got a ride on the back of a motorcyle–through the bazaar, on the sidewalk, and down the steps. You can’t do that back home.

Jackson at the Royal Mosque, Imam Square.

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Click here to listen.

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We wake up today in the mountain town of Abyaneh. I look out our hotel window to see a village built in to the hillside of bright red rock–like a a Persian town dropped down on Mars. After breakfast we walk down to the village, tightly packed collection of houses sharing walls and roofs built into the hills sort of like something you would see on Greek islands with a color pallete of reddish brown instead of mediteranean white. My AMerican mind can only reference adventure movies like Indiana Jones when I look at these structures with their rough iron features and elaborate wood carvings. It all looks like a movie set. Our guide tells us the area has been inhabited for over two thousand years. The current residents get by on sheep herding and tourism.

There are many Iranian tourists this morning. To them we are just as interesting in as the village. We stop and talk and they ask us if they can take our picture. A group of middle-aged ladies is especially interested in Zach. Look at that long sandy hair! It is so pretty! They run their hands through it. Zach, always cool as a cucumber handles the attention quite nicely, posing for pictures and saying “Salaam” to the black scarved women.

We hit the road south for Esfahan next. For the next few hours we are treated to the widest variety of rock formations I have ever seen in one area. Truly a geologists dream.

Notice the swastika in the center. This has been a design motif in Persian decoration for over a thousand years.

Some Persian tourists at Abayaneh.

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5/8 Day 4

It is very hard to find the time to write and post entries. When I do theInternet speeds are usually like dial up. Sorry I can’t do more.

Today we left Tehran and drive south in a hired van. We lunch near Kashan in a 400 year-old fort at the edge of Iran’s great Salt Lake. To get there we took a dirt road, partially paved with salt for two hours. After lunch we continue on the road to see “some sand dunes,” according to our guide.

‘Some sand dunes” ends up being one of the most serene places I have ever visited on this planet. We exit the van and walk through ashort patch of desert brush land, unusually green from spring rain and dotted with fleeting wildflowers. At the bottom of the dune I look up to see this massive pile of sand, perhaps 500 feet high. Shoes are removed and we ascend, warm, but not hot, sand squishing pleasantly beneath us. At the sumit adjectives fail. I am giddy trying to absorb the beauty around us. To the south of us the salt lake, wide white expanse reaching to merge with the overcast sky. To the north are sand dunes peppered with green brush to the horizon. The wind is slow and warm and we can see for miles.

The boys are having a party on sand mountain. Shirts come off, sand is hurled into the wind, and bodies slide and tumble. There is not a manmade structure any where you look for 360 degrees. We take pictures like we are on top of Everest. I have to remind myself to close my eyes for a moment and soak in the feeling of this place. I wish everyone I know could visit here.

Me tasteing the salt from the Salt Lake. Yum.

Zach at Salt Lake.

The boys riding a camel at the fort.

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