Turkey - Iran

And then, our last 500 km started towards the Iranian border: I started to become nervous. Not because of the idea to travel in the country of Iran but because of the border crossing itself. All horrible stories got into my mind - most of them at least 20 years old and possibly exaggerated… In Erzurum, the last town in Turkey, we needed to prepare the clothes for Iran: My scarf and the long blouses that come almost down to the knees - I need to take it out of my "Iran cloth box" before the border. So the last morning in Turkey, we spent with some kind of “fashion show” of me trying out the different clothes, which took the tension away a bit. The last bit through the Turkish "highlands" is a very beautiful route and the Turkish-Iranian border is right beneath the Ararat Mountain. The border passing went all well - no horrible scenes, no problems, no trouble with our luggage... but it took some three hours time. However, I was well prepared on a longer waiting time and anything below three hours would have surprised me. Finally, we started driving in Iran - meanwhile, it was almost 5 and Iran awaited us with a beautiful landscape and some tremendous light to take photos.

Did I already talk about the rules for women about what to wear (i.e. the "hijab", the "covering")? In Iran, women are obliged to cover their hair and to wear a coat that covers the shape of the body and should reach at least above the knees (called "manteau"). In many state-offered jobs such as teaching, women are asked to wear the "chador" that covers almost all. The official color of the chador is black - however, around the house and in the villages, many white or white with small flower designs are used, too. Chador, by the way, means "tent" - and having seen a small old lady in a mosque in Isfahan ducking herself in her black chador showed the true meaning of it! Well I am not wearing any chador and “manteau” as going towards south I would melt in the hot sun of the desert under such things. So my choice of clothing was long linen shirts with wide scarves that I can hang leisurely around my head. Did I say leisurely? Well that was the theory - in practice, the thing is having its own life and this life seems to be dedicated in just trying to get away from my hair or to sling itself around my neck like a snake trying to take away me breath! But I was confident that I would win the battle (I had a selection of needles, hair pins and other things with me to fix the thing on my head!!).

We finally arrived in Rudbar, Nabi’s hometown in the north of Iran some hundred kilometers from the Caspian Sea: As we did not announce our arrival, the first hours where somehow quiet: They would be the last quiet hours for a long time! As soon as the news spread along, the first the phone and later the door bells started ringing nonstop and people arrived in a one hour's rhythm! Almost in the same rhythm, we were kissed and hugged and invited to dinner and lunches and holidays and sightseeing tours and safaris and… ! Everybody was really nice and all together form a colorful, charming, laughing and amazingly energetic thunderstorm!