Iran: open hearts in the City of Love, Shiraz

On my travels through Iran I had to make a stop in Shiraz, a deeply historical location filled with ancient mosques and seminaries, ruins from the great Persian empire, and the origins of the delightful Shiraz grape. My explorations throughout Iran were punctuated by moments of unexpected hospitality. Shiraz was no exception.



I arrived in Shiraz at night under a full downpour of heavy rains. I was soaking wet by the time I found a cheap hotel with some free space for a tired backpacking tourist. I neatly arranged all my wet clothes on the heater and allowed my tired frame to hit the cheap spring mattress. The next morning I awoke to sunshine and an eagerness to visit Persepolis.

Persepolis was the ceremonial capital of the Persian empire at its height under Cyrus the Great (580-529BC). I pondered Cyrus' legacy as being the king of tolerance and a unique way of ruling his kingdom. He allowed the kingdoms he conquered to self govern under the umbrella of his empire. He also established the first charter of human rights. (http://www.iranchamber.com/history/cyrus/cyrus_charter.php)  He was able to rule one of the largest empires in relative peace due to the respect shown to subject kingdoms. I thought that day about benevolence and dictatorships and how infrequently those two come together.
 

Sunset over the ruins of Persepolis
The god Mazda (god of light and wisdom)

Cuneiform Writing

Fashion of 560BC : Bearded fellows with great hats and a spear

The gate of all nations.


After a long day at the ruins I found my way back to Shiraz. I had one day to explore Shiraz with its hosts of mosques and memorials to the great Persian poets. This task seemed impossible, so I just began walking down the street to see what would happen. I made my towards a Hawza, an institution of higher learning for imams (seminary), and found the ornately carved door ajar. I thought it best not to enter as it felt like a holy place. I continued on my walk but then thought - this is my opportunity to meet some interesting Muslim folks. So I walked back and opened the door.

I found myself in a courtyard filled with date trees an pond of water and a tranquility. I was admiring the peace I found in that moment when an old gentleman called my attention from the corner of the courtyard. I greeted him in Farsi, smiled and hoped for the best. He invited me to come to his corner through hand motions as I could not speak Farsi and English was not an option. He brought me into his little corner room where he had been sitting. There was an old wooden chair with a stack of books being lit by one incandescent light bulb hanging from the ceiling. He began to show me all of his books and was proud of each one. I admired his the gentleness in his eyes and the love for his books. He then led me outside and I asked if I could take some photos.
My new friend on the right.


Leading me to the teaching room
 My new friend then invited me to join him and his colleagues to sit at the feet of the grand ayatollah. I took off my shoes and entered the room filled with sombre bearded men. I knew this was a special moment in my life and I humbly took a seat. The imam I initially met invited me to take photos. Each of the imams wanted their pictures taken. Here are a few photos from those moments.
A student

Deep reflections

The Grand Ayatollah
After the study was finished all of the imams came to shake my hand and show me around the courtyard. I thought this was it and was going to quietly take my exit when my friend beckoned me to wait. He whipped out a cellphone and called someone. He beckoned me to wait and after ten minutes a young man appeared. He spoke some broken English and was able to communicate that his grandfather wanted me to go with him. I readily agreed as every time I had accepted such invitations in Iran I was blessed.

Once outside the school, the young man beckoned me to jump into his old beat-up Toyota Corolla. Once inside he asked me where I wanted to go. A smile broke across his face as he looked over  and said: "How you like Iran?" He turned the music up and took me to all of the incredible sights of Shiraz all before my bus took me away towards the border with Pakistan.


My new friend, Navid. This is a stop we made at his house
Navid and I at the tomb of Hafez, one of the great Sufi poets.

I was astonished during my visit to the tombs of two great Sufi poets. At both sites I found admirers who were quoting poems and were deeply moved by emotion. This man was shedding tears as he recited a Hafez poem. It is said that in the home of a man in Shiraz you will find a copy of the Koran and right next to it a copy of poems by Hafez.

Inside the Aramgah-E Shah-E Cheragh (grave of Imam Reza, 7th descendent of the Prophet Mohammed). This is a truly stunning place to watch respectful mourners from a distance.


The captain

At the mausoleum of Sa'di

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