Iran 1991, 1992
The wonderful Christmas
(Excerpt from the diary)
After a good dinner, we walk back to our hotel at around 22:00. Tanja and I agree: this day was probably the most interesting December 24th in years. The streets are now deserted. It is very cold and there are only a few cars on the dimly lit streets of Isfahan. Suddenly one of the few cars stops next to us. A man jumps out, comes up to us laughing and asks us in perfect English if we would like to be his guests tonight. He points to his car, in which five young girls are sitting. “My sisters and cousins would also be very happy if you accepted my invitation,” he explains kindly. Tanja and I look at each other in amazement and don’t know what’s happening to us at the moment. Moments later, we are sitting in his car and are curious to see what an Iranian family’s home is like. Achmed is so happy about our promise, it’s as if we’ve given him a big present. His sisters and cousins giggle incessantly during the ride and also seem to be very amused by the rare change of pace. After a short drive, we reach his house.
We have to take off our shoes and enter an overheated room. At least 10 women and 3 men greet us with exuberant joy. Despite the modern furnishings, we are immediately offered a seat on the floor. This is also common practice among wealthy families in Iran. A carpet is our carpet pad. As a special honor, I get to sit next to the almost red-hot stove. “Would you like some tea?” asks Achmed. We don’t have time to answer, so quickly a young veiled girl brings in a tray of tea. All women wear a headscarf or veil and sit separately from the men. Tanja is also sitting on the other side of the room. She is surrounded by all the girls and women and is literally bombarded with questions. I have made myself comfortable next to the men and talk about customs and traditions in Germany. Achmed translates my stories into Persian. As so often on our trip to Iran, I am asked the same questions: How do I get a visa for Germany? How much money do you need to live there? What can you do there? I am surprised that they also have resentment towards the Germans. When asked why, the men explain that reports about German xenophobia can soon be seen daily on Iranian television.
In the meantime, large plates of apples and mandarins are served. Although the Iranians have nothing to do with Christmas, we have feelings of home. Achmed’s father is a fruit merchant and is able to feed his family of 13. Achmed is also proud of his English skills. “At last I can put my school knowledge to good use,” he laughs and puts his arm around me as if I were his best friend.
It is now so hot in the room that it smells of sweat. The atmosphere is extremely cordial and Tanja has a lot of fun with the women. Giggling, they try to persuade Tanja to take off her veil. The men explain to me that women do not have to wear a veil in their own homes. “Our women are completely free at home,” says Achmed. “Then why are your cousins and sisters wearing the veil now?” I ask. “Because you’re there. The freedom from clothing only applies when there are no strangers in the house,” he replies. “And Tanja can take off her veil?” I want to know. “Sure,” he replies, nodding happily. When Tanja takes off her headscarf and exposes her hair, the men’s eyes glaze over and they can’t take their eyes off her. The women and girls shriek with delight and admire Tanja’s hair. I would never have thought that just hair could have such a stimulating effect on men. It doesn’t take long before Tanja feels uncomfortable under the gaze of the men and covers her hair with her headscarf again.
Achmed and one of his brothers start talking about politics and ranting about their government. They talk about the good times before the revolution, about a time when food and rents were still cheap. With dreamy eyes, they tell me that they would like to go dancing. “Oh, you know Denis,” says Achmed, “you have it really good. You’re allowed to travel, you can talk to people from foreign countries and you have the right to express your opinion freely. Yes, you can even listen to any music you want. All that is forbidden here. We have hardly any freedom. There are no discotheques or dance halls, our literature is very limited and there is not even beer to drink. I want to be able to live like you. I’m fed up with our gauze government, I despise it.”
I sit there a little concerned and remember similar statements from other compatriots. After a while, I reply: “You know, Achmed, time never stands still. There will be better days for your country too. Governments come and go. They change like a flag in the wind. Today it’s the law to wear blue shirts and tomorrow you’ll be killed for it.” “I know,” he replies. “I can only hope that the wind will blow from a different direction in my lifetime and turn the flag.” Achmed’s brother nods to confirm the words and smiles at me.
On this holy evening, we learn an enormous amount about the life and thoughts of an Iranian family. At midnight, we say goodbye to them with hugs and kisses. Achmed drives us to the hotel in his car and thanks us again for accepting his invitation. Almost ashamed, we get out of his car. We also thank him and as we hug each other goodbye, I tell him, “You’ve given us an unforgettable Christmas present with your invitation.”
Iran 1991/1992/1993
Situated between the ancient civilizations of Iraq and Punjab, Iran has left an unforgettable impression on Tanja and Denis Katzer with its lovely people, hospitality, countless mosques and ancient cultural sites, bizarre mountain heights, salt and sandy deserts.
