Doshanbeh, the 9th of Khordad 1390/Monday, May 30, 2011
Sadra and I had a pretty relaxed day lounging around the house before meeting up with some friends of ours from Boulder, Soroush, who was already in town and Ehsan, who was driving in from Esfahan. We decided to meet up at a famous square at seven o’clock, as it was too complicated to try and tell Ehsan where we were to pick us up. We were only a little late when we arrived. Sadly Ehsan was running on Persian time and hadn’t even picked up Soroush by the time we had arrived at the designated meeting point. As much as I get annoyed by these things, I really can’t. It’s in every Persian’s nature to be at least 45 minutes late to anything. Really I should factor this time in and not plan on leaving the house until at least 45 minutes have passed. I thought the Spanish were bad! tisk tisk
So looking for something to do to kill time, Sadra and I walked down a street of shops, until we found a park. We picked up some snacks and sat down on a park bench waiting to hear from Ehsan. As soon as we sat down I hear this loud thump on metal. I thought to myself that’s strange. Then I looked across the way and saw a young girl sleeping awkwardly in a gazebo. Strange to sleep that way in a gazebo I thought, but then again, who am I to judge as the girl who drools on fellow passengers on planes. Then in what seemed like a very slow spark, I realized the thud and the girl was related and she just fainted. People rushed over to help her and we gave her the water we had just bought. Turns out she had a bad asthma attack and she was okay.
After the girl’s passing out, I thought to myself, how ever will I pass the time now? And then this teeny kitten appeared from under the guard’s hut. I lured her out to me and scooped her up. It was love. The little girl sat in my lap purring and just cuddling. Something my cats would never allow me to do with them. Sadra and I were dangerously close to calling the night off and just taking the kitten home with us. But then I thought what were we to do with this kitten once we left? So the decision was made to keep her at the park. Perhaps she had a mother who would take care of her, but by the look of her, I think not. It was heartbreaking saying goodbye. I started to cry. We left her with a cup full of water and I hope the little thing is still okay and found a good meal or two since we departed.
We left the park and found Ehsan’s car waiting for us up the street. Ehsan’s car only fits five people, but there were six total. Clearly from the math, we weren’t going to all fit, but somehow we managed, and I was elected to sit uncomfortably on Sadra’s lap, with my back contorted in such a way that I could slouch in the car without hitting the ceiling. Now add crazy Tehran driving, someone who doesn’t know their way around Tehran and you have yourself a good time. What’s scarier than driving through Tehran? Driving through Tehran with an Esfahani! After much debate and scary driving it was decided to head up to Baame Tehran.
So for the second time I saw the roof of Tehran, although this time it was far less crowded. At the top we had dinner and the boys got us stuck at the top during a wind storm. We went inside the restaurant and just hung out until the ungodly winds had passed. Then Sadra and I took the bus home, while the guys hiked down.
All in all an uneventful trip, with zero juicy gossip to report or funny stories.
I will say, the drive to Sadra’s apartment was made much more fun with the addition of blasting lil’ John and lil’ Wayne through the streets of Tehran. A little feeling of rebellion playing such raunchy music. No foul done though really as much of Lil’ Wayne’s lyrics don’t make sense to English speakers, let alone for people who use English as their second language.
Also I successfully was able to give directions back home to the apartment, while Sadra could not. Score one for the foreigner. I may not know street names, but dammit I know my landmarks!
Seshanbeh, the 10th of Khordad, 1390/Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Tuesday, Sadra and I picked up his one and only nephew, the beloved Mohammad Taha. We picked him up from his family’s house and took him to the apartment to open presents we brought him. In addition to the Kinnect we got him, his mother bought him tons of clothes, which of course Sadra made him model each of. It was kind of reminiscent of that scene in A Christmas Story where Ralphie has to try on the pink bunny pajamas. My point being, ten year old boys don’t like to model their clothing. However, Sadra made it fun enough. We had lunch and got ice cream, and before we knew it, our time with Mohammad Taha had passed. So although there’s not much to report from Tuesday, I will say this. Watching Sadra with his nephew is amazing. Mohammad Taha looks up to him so much, the poor thing jumped all the way to get ice cream cause Sadra told him it would be fun. (Sadra tries to get me to jump all the time, but I just roll my eyes.)
Chaharshanbeh, the 11th of Khordad, 1390/Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Again fairly uneventful, as we spent much of the day inside. It was super hot. We did meet up with another one of Sadra’s high school friends Navid, who studies in Tehran. Unfortunately I don’t speak Farsi and Navid doesn’t speak English and Sadra was too excited to talk to Navid to translate. Alas that happens a lot, and although I can understand a fair amount, after awhile it becomes taxing trying to figure out what people are talking about, especially when you can’t jump into the conversation. That’s when I tune out and people watch. Sitting in the park with Navid and Sadra I noticed a great trend in the park, which greatly amuses me. Women power walking together and gossiping. Around and around this park they walk, you would think they’d run out of things to talk about, but each time around they seemed eagerly talking about whatever subject, without fail. So see a universal bond between two seemingly different cultures. It’s all about bringing people together through the gossip of other people. 😉
Also as a quick side note, Sadra’s mom brought home a repair man to help channel the AC in the guest room of the apartment. He looked very similar to Saddam Hussein, but who would ever bring that up to him, right? Apparently when she asked again for his name, as she forgot, he said “Just call me Saddam. That’s what everybody does. I look just like him!” Which is the first time I’ve met someone who isn’t offended if you say they look like one of the world’s greatest tyrants. Sure, I might clarify who someone is in a story by saying “the guy with the Hitler mustache,” but I would never say it to his face! So kudos to the guy who can make light of the fact that he looks like a murderous tyrant.