An American in Iran

By Raggs  |  Location: Iran  |  03/10/09
It's getting late in Shiraz, Iran, and I am afraid if I tell the taxi driver I am American, I may not make it home. If I have learned anything over the last 4 days, it is that there is a good chance I will be taken to his home, introduced to his entire family, and fed dinner. And I am NOT exaggerating.

In fact, I am leaving the home of Leila, a cute Iranian girl I had asked to tea. She, in turn, suggested instead that we "just" go to her home and meet her family.  I, of course, accepted. I met her mother and father. Her brother, sister-in-law, and nephew had also come to the house to meet me. While dinner cooked, they sat me down in front of a computer and showed me videos of their last holiday celebration and of a dolphin show. They then presented to me more plates of food than I could have possibly eaten. They were curious about America, overly polite, and I thought that if I complemented their TV, they would have gift wrapped it for me, and thrown a kebab on top for good measure. ("You have a beautiful....daughter?")

Of the 25+ countries I have been to, Iran is easily the safest and friendliest country I have been to.  I can walk down any street and feel safe (walking across the street, or "Death Frogger", is completely another matter).  Wandering around, I attract only a little attention. However, if I stop to buy something or sit down, within a minute or two someone will approach me and try their English on me.

To wit:
I was in the airport waiting for an internal flight across Iran. My arms and legs are crossed, my eyes are half closed and my headphones are on. Not very open. I feel a tap on my shoulder.
"Hello. My name is Hadi. I am 24 years. I am a teacher."
I smile. The Five Questions will come, inquiring about:
1. My name.
2. Profession
3. Where I am from
4. My age, or How I like Iran
5  Am I married.
 
And of course, his response to #3 is exactly like everyone elses:
"Los Angeles? America?!  Persians love Americans!  Iranian government no.  But all Persians love Americans!"
He gives me his number and tells me to call him when I am in Tehran. Even though I have 4 free days in Tehran, I tell him I wont be able to. Do you know why?
Because I already have a pocket full of numbers of people I must meet in Tehran from this happening!! 
This place is like 1950s America, but less reserved.
 
- Policemen washing their police cars stop what they are doing when I walk by, wave to me and shout, in English, "Hello!" "Salam" I say, and I smile.
 
- The salesmen and taxi drivers are not aggressive, and in their spiel they will apologize for, and make jokes about, being pushy salesmen.
 
- A group of tough-looking young men are blocking our path as we walk through a park. When they hear our voices, without hesitation they clear a path.
 
- I can go up to anyone on the street and ask to take their picture. They will say yes and pose without asking why. This may get the police called on you in the U.S.  I did this multiple times today just to see how far I could take it.  Families with small children, thugs, young girls walking alone: every single one approved. It is surreal.
 
Their standard of living is much better than I expected, maybe a couple steps below ours, and they dress a lot better.  Their level of hospitality, however, makes us look like jerks. Knowing what the average American thinks of Iranians, we look like Great Ignorant American Jerks.
 
It disgusts me that Americans think that anyone here could be hostile, when the reality is the exact opposite. It's like saying everyone in the U.S. is part of the KKK.
 
You are a victim of propoganda. At the very least, of great ignorance.
Please pass this on. I shutter to think that "attack" or "bomb" could be used in the same sentence as "Iran". 
 

-Rob

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