American journalist mugs with Revolutionary Guard. Enlarge photo |
Tehran, a mile-high metropolis of 14 million people. Enlarge photo |
Cameraman Karel gets photographed for his press pass. Enlarge photo |
Our welcome included building-sized anti-US murals showing American flags with Stars of David and dropping bombs painting the stripes. Enlarge photo |
I was hesitant to tell anyone about this trip until it was actually happening. One day into this experience, we are definitely here. Revolutionary Guards who can be coaxed to smile, four-lane highways intersecting with no traffic lights, “Death to America” posters, and big warm welcoming smiles…Iran is a fascinating and complex paradox.
Tehran is a mile-high metropolis of 14 million people. With one day of filming down, I’m in a fancy hotel on the 14th floor, enjoying a view of a vast city at twilight, lights twinkling right up a snow-capped mountain. I’m munching the best pistachios I’ve ever tasted (and I am a pistachio connoisseur) from an elegant woven tray and nursing a tall glass of pomegranate juice. I cruise the channels on my TV — CNN, BBC, and lots of mood-setting programming — perfect for praying… One channel shows the sun setting on Mecca, with its kaaba (the big black box focus of pilgrim worship), in real time. In an urban jungle like Tehran, life can be so good — if you have money.
Our local guide (who doesn’t want to be called a “government minder”) is a big help and very good. Today we dropped by the foreign press office to get our press badges. There a beautiful and properly covered woman took mug shots for our badges and carefully confirmed the pronunciation of our names in order to transliterate them into Farsi.
Filming is complicated on the streets of Tehran because there is no single authority in charge — many arms of government overlap and make rules that conflict with each other. Permissions to film somewhere are limited to a specific time window. If we have permission to film a certain building, it doesn’t mean we can film it from the balcony of a teahouse that we don’t have permission to film in, or from any angle that shows a bank — as those are not to be filmed. When we film a shop window, a security guard is on us immediately. Our guide/minder is kept busy asserting himself when someone representing some different branch of government puts up a road block. He makes it all possible. People here like to say, “Iranian democracy: You are given lots of options…and then we make your choice for you.”
We can talk to whomever we like — but it reminds me of my early trips to the USSR, when only those with nothing to lose would risk talking openly to us (at least when our “guide” was present). So many who’ve commented on the blog have assumed I am not troubled by the lack of freedom here. Civil liberties for women, religious minorities, and anyone who chooses not to embrace this self-described “revolution of values” are, to me the mark of a modern, free, and, I believe, sustainable democracy. Those both for and against my trip here all agree with that. A key word here is sustainable. I believe — given time and a chance to evolve on their cultural terms — the will of the people ultimately prevails. For now, this country is not free (and no one here claims it is). A creepiness that comes with big government pervades the place. I wonder how free-minded people cope. I am excited to sort this out as our trip goes along.
At the Shah’s palace — a museum since he was overthrown in 1978 — an old aristocratic woman came up to me and said, “We are united and we are proud. When you go home, you must tell the truth.” Iranians believe that Western media makes their culture look menacing, and never shows its warm, human and gracious side. I assured her that we were here to show the people of Iran rather than its bombastic government.
I understand well-employed people here make $5,000 to $15,000 a year, and pay essentially no tax. It seems to me that the economy doesn’t need to be very efficient, and taxes don’t matter much to a government funded by oil. Measuring productivity at a glance, things seem pretty low-energy. While the Islamic Revolution is not anti-capitalism, there seems to be a lack of incentive to really be efficient.
I can tell from our first day that the people of Iran will be the big joy of our visit — everyone’s mellow, quick to smile, very courteous. It’s almost like the country’s on valium. (But then, perhaps Iranians are just not driven as we are by capitalist values to work hard and enjoy material prosperity.)
In a bookstore a woman patiently showed me fine poetry books. As we left, she gave me a book for free. At the Shah’s palace, the public toilet was far away and a guard winked and slipped me secretly to a staff toilet — I imagine used by the Shah’s lackeys. The folks at the travel agency who set up our tour gave us each a platter of lemony pistachios…the best I’ve ever had. (My lips are puckered with them now as I type, as they are my standard bedside snack.)
I step out onto my hotel-room balcony to hear the hummm of 14 million people and marvel at fresh snow whitening the mountain above the ritzy high-rise condos of North Tehran. Looking straight down, the hotel’s entryway is buzzing with activity, as the hotel’s hosting a conference on Islamic unity. The circular driveway is lined by the flags of 30 nations. (Huge collections of flags seem to be common here — perhaps because it provides a handy opportunity to exclude the Stars and Stripes. Apart from being featured in hateful political murals, I haven’t seen an American flag.)
A van with an X-ray machine is permanently parked outside the entrance. Everyone who enters the hotel needs to pass their bags through this first. It’s interesting to see that Iran, a country we feel we need to protect ourselves from, handles security the same way we do.