Tehran Iran 伊朗德黑兰 3/2018 (1)

8-9/3/2018. Curiosity kills a cat. It is part recklessness and part restlessness. I decided to visit Iran to unveil the mysticism of this country. A country that openly chants and taunts “death to America,” and stormed the U.S. embassy, has to be extraordinary.

As the plane landed, a steward was staring at the legs of a Russian girl, unimpressed, saying, “You can’t get off the plane in your shorts. You have to change now.” The girl was still in the washroom when a stewardess knocked frantically on the door to hurry her. She returned to her seat the moment before the plane landed. Phew! She could have been bumped while still slipping into her pants. It seems girls wearing shorts in Iran is a cardinal no-no. Girls also have to cover their heads with headscarves. Being a man is much easier.

I converted USD 500. In return, I was given a stack of local notes, actually 22 million Iranian Rials; the largest denomination was 500,000 Iranian Rials. I instantly assumed an air of a millionaire. I bought a local sim card for USD 5, another USD 5 to top it up. Then I mistakenly, though without regret, gave 500,000 Iranian Rial in tips to the lady at the service counter. I just couldn’t handle so many zeros.

I asked a well-dressed man for directions to the Golestan Palace. He changed direction to walk me for about 15 minutes to my destination. When we arrived, he wished me well, then vanished before I could thank him. My first taste of Iranian friendliness. The palace was nice, but not “wow!”

In the comfort of my boutique hotel, the Amirkabir Hotel, I sat down in the traditional restaurant, to relish my first real taste of Iran. I ordered lamb shank and rice for the lunch. I asked the waiter if there were any local drinks on the menu. No, he said, but he did have Coke. Hah? I thought the country was under American sanctions. The truth was, I couldn’t access my U.S. platforms while traveling in the country, and yet they had Coke? (The same restriction happened when I was traveling in Cuba a couple of years ago). The waiter also suggested Iranian beer. Beer in the Iranian Islamic Republic? He then explained, sheepishly, it was fake beer. Why bother pretending it is beer? I swear I could even feel my throat a bit warm after a few mouthfuls under the hot, desert sun.

The Grand Bazaar was my destination in the afternoon. It was grand, alright. This was a historic bazaar, with 10 km of alleys, so large it was easy to get disoriented. Nuts, women’s clothes, jewelry, home accessories, beauty products, stationery, antiquities, you could get almost anything under the sun here. It was very congested, as they were about to celebrate Nowruz, the Iranian New Year.

It was a good time to go on a walkabout, and took in the bustle of sights. I had been told the streets were busier than usual because Nowruz was near. Mosques were ubiquitous. A lot of black robes walked the streets. There was not much obesity. People relaxed and played chess in a park, like the simple good old days. I even saw someone dressed up in a Donald Duck costume in front of a shopping mall. Together with beer and Coke, I sensed that beneath all the rhetoric, there may be a remnant of mutual feeling between the two peoples—just my guess.

I noticed women wear mostly black, not much else. Men were not much different. I supposed packaging that’s too colorful was not encouraged. But the somber colors could not suppress their beauty. The girls liked to accentuate their eyebrows with makeup. Their friendly smile and mellow voice were charming and disarming. The headscarf at times barely clung onto their hair. They wanted to shine, like girls everywhere in the world, but they had to tuck it in.

It felt I had been walking like Forrest Gump the whole day, trying to take in images of the city. At nightfall, people continued to throng the streets. There was an air of merriness about. As I joined the locals window shopping on a pedestrian street, I was surprised to come across window displays of evening gowns that were less traditional, showing a bit more of the female form, flashing a lot of shine and color. When did the woman folk get to wear these dresses, because I really don’t see them on the streets?

8-9/3/2018 好奇会使猫丧命, 活得不耐烦，我还是到了伊朗来揭一揭这神秘国的面纱。胆敢大喊口号叫美帝去死 (Death to America), 还佔领过美领馆并扣押领馆人员，真还胆大包天。

飞机快降落时服务员瞪着坐我旁的俄罗斯小姑娘两腿说，“你穿短裤是不能下飞机的，现在就得换”。小姑娘还在洗手间换裤子，空中小姐就猛敲门急催。小姑娘回到座位后飞机马上降落了。小姑娘差点就在飞机降落时还在换衣服。穿短裤在伊朗可不是小事。女孩到伊朗还要套上头纱。又是给女孩的规定，做男人真好。

在机场五百美元换来厚厚一叠两千两百万本币，最大面值五十万一张，顿时大快。今早买当地芯卡付五美金，充值五美金，给了五十万本地币小费。这天文数字面值钞票还真把我老脑搞晕了。

一早问路到古列斯坦皇宫。因语言不通不好解释方向，一青年改变自己方向带我走了十到十五分钟到地点，我还没来得及感谢他时已消失无踪。这皇宫规模还可以，但没使我张口惊叹。

午饭点了羊肉饭，问服务员有没本地饮料，他没听懂，说没有, 可是有可乐。怎可能还有冤家的可乐呢，美国不是在制裁这国吗？端上来我一看，还真是可乐，我可乐了。我在伊朗确认无法上访美国交易平台, 跟两年前在古巴时一样。晚饭时服务员推荐伊朗啤酒。啤酒？在伊朗伊斯兰共和国会有啤酒？服务员脸红解释道，其实是假啤。我喝了一瓶，喉咙和脑袋在这炎热沙漠还真有点发烫。

下午到德黑兰大贩卖市场（Tehran Grand Bazaar）. 这还真大，应有尽有。这时恰逢快过伊朗人的新年，挤得水泄不通。女孩大多全身黑袍，男的还带些灰的，衣着都偏暗淡，可能是不鼓励太炫耀的包装吧。女孩爱美天性那里都一样，暗淡的衣黑袍无法掩盖她们的漂亮。她们的大眼睛是特征，在眉毛再上色，那眼睛大放秋波。官方规定女孩都要套上头纱，可是看到很多女孩头纱也只勉强的攀住头部的后半，好像都在走擦边球，很好奇女孩们怎么想。语气温柔，友善的微笑和目光，很快就感受到欢迎。

漫无目的溜达，设法对德黑兰有更深入的认识。人们正常过着日常生活，公园里人们在休息下棋。我听说伊朗新年将近，街道倍加人气十足。回教堂到处可见，人们衣着偏黑，体态肥胖少见，我甚至看到只唐老鸭。假啤酒，可乐，唐老鸭，我感觉他们好像对美还有点依依不舍恋情。

走呀走呀走到太阳也休了，夜色渐现，人们继续在街上逛，空气弥漫着喜气。意外的走到这几个步行街，橱窗摆设五颜六色，尽显曲线的女晚装。走了这么久街上还没见过女人穿这服装。这是在什么场合才穿呢？在家吗？穿在黑袍下吗？纯好奇。