Book "Unforgettable Iran". Chapter 14.1 Yazd (Yazd)
male loneliness
Music. Listen to the song Mohsen Chavoshi - Nashkan Delamo (Don't break my heart).
http://sanyok-belarus. people. en/Iran_Music/Mohsen_Chavoshi_-_Nashkan_Delamo. mp3
From Kerman, I quickly drove by passing cars to the city of Yazd. I liked this type of travel so much that I didn’t even think about traveling by public transport. First of all, this is due to the fact that, meeting new people, I could constantly practice Farsi, and from this my understanding of other people became better every day. In addition, every day I diligently wrote out new words and phrases from the phrasebook, and repeated them many times to different people, copying their pronunciation. Suppose yesterday I knew only one phrase: “My name is Alexander”, then I learned: “What is your name? ", and the next day I used them in a bunch. After a month of active hitchhiking in Iran, I was able to do more than just get the name or how you are, much more.
Upon arrival, I counted the number of words recorded in my dictionary - it turned out to be more than eight hundred.
In Yazd, I stayed with Nasser, who spoke excellent English. We immediately became friends, and while I was cooking scrambled eggs with pasta, he was making a mint hookah. My friend put some pills next to him, and I was immediately visited by deja vu - in Shiraz I saw a girl who complained of depression and drank similar drugs.
- You got sick, caught a cold, - I asked with participation.
- No, I take drugs for a different reason. Six months ago, I began to feel bad, - Nasser answered, - I didn’t want to do anything, I was constantly in a bad mood. The doctor said that I had depression and prescribed these pills for me three times a day.
“Anyway, what exactly are they for? ”
- Well, they make me happier.
What will happen if you stop drinking them?
- I think I'm going crazy. It is unbearable for me to live the way I live now.
I'm under pressure from this society.
Naser recently turned 29, never had a girlfriend, but he drank a mountain of pills that made him "happier. "
“You know, ” he complained to me, “I can’t do anything with girls, the whole system is built so that we don’t even communicate with them. In Iran, it is customary for a son to live with his parents until he gets married, so renting a separate apartment is extremely difficult, especially in Yazd, this city is so religious. I moved here for work, and spent a whole month looking for housing, persuading property owners to give me a place. But as soon as they found out that I was not married, they immediately refused me, offering to return to live with my parents, no one even wanted to listen that I had come from another city. Then I asked my company to help me with housing, they spent several weeks on this!
The conversation smoothly flowed into the discussion of girls.
The other day, a girl with whom he had known for several years was supposed to visit Nasser. From their correspondence on Facebook (it was not for nothing that he was banned in Iran), it might seem that she really wanted to meet and even stay at his house. From the latter, my Iranian friend concluded that she so confirmed that she agreed to have sex. Male Iranian logic in action - any woman who meets another guy is available, and if she is ready to spend the night in his house, then very accessible. Whether this is true or not, I could not find out, because the girl turned out to be more cunning. Well understanding the course of men's thoughts, she could not deny herself the opportunity to flirt so that, on the one hand, she would give hope, but on the other hand, in fact, she would not come, blaming her admirer for this.
- Are you busy with work? My friend in Yazd also invited me to his place, maybe I'll go to him? she asked playfully.
- I'm really very busy, but I'll be glad to see you. Do as you please, ” Nasser replied with dignity.
Apparently, this was exactly the answer that the girl was waiting for. Because the answer was that she would go to spend the night with a friend. In our country, we usually say “rejected” in such cases, but Nasser was nervous that he had a romantic night, which was not destined to come true, because, as we later found out, the girl did not go anywhere at all.
From our conversation, I realized what an unbridgeable gulf exists between men and women in Iran. Girls live in dormitories according to the schedule, every evening they are obliged to return there by a certain hour, they are deprived of the opportunity to spend time with young people, a guy sitting close on the same bench and a girl may well be arrested, not to mention what to kiss, hug and take for hand is strictly prohibited.
That is, women do not communicate with men at all and in their assessment of men they are guided by the opinion of close relatives or ideologically savvy people: teachers, spiritual mentors. In confirmation of my words, Nasser explained: “I never managed to meet a single girl at the university, I don’t even know all the girls from my stream, because many of them don’t even greet us, they just pass by. They shy away from us like monsters! »
The guys' understanding of female psychology is also not at the highest level, but absolute male solidarity reigns in their company. The phone that the girl left the guy is a matter of special pride. And there is nothing wrong with the fact that her number is immediately distributed to other guys. Suddenly, if she does not like one man, then she will agree to meet another? !
Or suddenly someone finds on Facebook photos of Iranian girls without headscarves and raincoats (such photos are considered pornography and prohibited by law), then he will definitely share the find with his friends. I'm not talking about the fact that if someone kissed or something "was", such news spreads as quickly as breaking news.
Sweets Yazd
At Nasser's house, we smoked a hookah and tasted the sweets that I bought in the city. Baklava (Baghlava e Yazdi) with natural honey, nuts and pistachios is considered to be the national dessert of Yazd. Such a baklava was distinguished from Turkish, as it seemed to me, only with a special aroma, perhaps saffron is also added among the spices.
Pashma k, the famous sweet from Yazd, resembles cotton candy, but is more like ropes (fibers), is prepared with the addition of dough, which makes its taste more tender.
I managed to get into the workshop and see how the machine mixes soft sugar, looks like caramel-colored vermicelli, with dough, so that the result is a delicious product in the form of threads. You need to eat this sweetness correctly like this: put your fingers in the form of a bag and press the pashmak into it, giving it the shape of a ball or cylinder, and then send it to your mouth.
Yazd is famous for the fact that “sugar in the heads” is made here - sugar is poured into molds, and when it cools, a snow-white cone is obtained, shaped like an artillery shell. Another kind of sugar is "nabat" - sugar is boiled to the state of syrup, and then poured into square and round shapes - a bar is obtained, which is broken with a hammer. The buyers I met in one of the shops came from Shiraz to buy “nabat” and “sugar loaves”, as I was explained, the most delicious sugar is made in Yazd.
Date in Yazd.
Listen to the song Mansour - Ghararemoon Yadet Nare (Don't forget about our date)
http://sanyok-belarus. people. en/Iran_Music/Mansour_-_Gharaaremoon_Yadet_Nareh. mp3
Once, on the way home, I got lost and went to a stop to ask a passerby to show me the bus: “Beba khshid, kodu m utubu s be Meydan n e Beheshti mi r e? (sorry, which bus goes to Beheshti Square)”. The young man turned out to be not local and confusedly answered: “Nemi dunam (I don’t know)”
The girl standing next to me heard my request, so she turned to me and began to explain the way. Just then, the right bus pulled up. As instructed, I entered the front door and she entered the back. “What a pity that we didn’t manage to get to know each other, ” I thought, and turned around to see how far the girl had gone. Finding her in the crowd turned out to be very easy, because, noticing me, she raised her hand up, while pointing to her mobile phone. We squeezed through the partition, we exchanged numbers, but she refused to talk on the bus.
In the evening I received an SMS from her, but I could not understand anything, because the Iranian girl did not speak English at all and wrote in Farsi in English letters (the so-called Finglish), Nasser helped me with the translation. So, the very first SMS contained unambiguous demands: “Shave off your beard, clean yourself up and put on new clothes. We'll meet tomorrow at Jame Mosque. " These are Iranian girls, in this sense they differ little from our girls, they both want to command.
I honestly went to the hairdresser, where they gave my beard a solid look, took out clean trousers and a shirt from my backpack and ironed them carefully, never ceasing to think about how much better it is to do without girls. Although in fact, in our meeting, the language barrier scared me the most - she did not know English at all. “And what will we do if we don’t understand each other, how will we communicate?
- I constantly asked myself, with extraordinary persistence memorizing new words.
We met the next day and until the evening we walked around the old adobe city in Yazd. The girl's name was Betty, which was a bit atypical for an Iranian, she turned out to be one of 16 children in the family, and was already married, but divorced, her husband took his son and moved to live in another city. Perhaps that's all I could understand. Each time I was surprised that we were able to spend a lot of time together, despite the language barrier, because I had to speak exclusively in Farsi.
During our walk around the city, a rather unusual incident occurred. According to Iranian laws, women must take seats at the end of the bus, sometimes the women's half is separated from the men's by a partition. Yazd buses did not have partitions, and passengers first passed through the front door, and then dispersed in the cabin according to gender.
But as soon as we got on the bus, Betty took my hand and took the first row of seats on the bus. I thought that this was some kind of mistake, and began to explain that she needed to go to the back of the bus. But Betty really wanted to take the seat next to me in the front seat, so I didn't resist. It was very interesting to observe the reaction of the passengers who boarded the bus. All of them, and especially the men, seeing us together in the front seat, were very surprised and embarrassed. Betty smiled and continued to hold my hand tightly. This little prank, apparently, gave her great pleasure.
As a keepsake, Betty really wanted to buy me some kind of gift (kadoʹ ), so we went to the store, where she chose a postcard with views of Yazd and copied out the following phrase from the Anglo-Persian book Quotes of Great People, which belongs to R. L.
Stevenson: "We are all travelers in this world, and the best thing we can find in travel is a reliable friend. " (We are all travelers in the wilderness of this world, and the best we can find in our travels is an honest friend). She also presented me with a large bag of sweets, nuts, dates and dried fruits.
- But the food itself cannot be a gift, - Betty added, - so I invite you to a restaurant where we can try national dishes.
We took a taxi and went to Moshir-al-Mamalek (Moshir-al-Mamalek, http://www. hgm. ir), a wonderful place, famous for the palace of the Qajar period in which the hotel is located, as well as a huge garden and excellent restaurant of national cuisine. That evening we chose a buffet where we could taste about ten national dishes in unlimited quantities, as well as various fruits and sweets. The tables were located on the terrace next to the park, and live music played in the center, it was very cozy here.
Admission was $15 per person, but Betty strongly insisted on paying for both of us.
All the dishes were cooked very tasty, I especially liked “Ku ku sabzi” (fried vegetables with egg and flour) and “Kashko bademdzhan” (eggplant porridge with whey “qash”), and from meat dishes - “Bagkhali e polo ba gusht (rice with special bagkhali beans and spices, cooked like pilaf with beef) and Khoresht gheime (stew with peas, lemon and spices). Dishes could be taken in unlimited quantities, so that evening I tried everything that caught my eye, so that after dinner I could hardly get up from the table. Live music, a pleasant atmosphere and a nearby park, where you could walk, contributed to our conversation.
From the fact that we were interested in spending time with each other, I concluded that the language barrier is not really a hindrance to communication.
If the interlocutor really wants to understand, then it will not be difficult to communicate. We talked about family, friends, traditions, men and women, using a phrase book, and when we didn’t understand each other, we opened a dictionary, found a key word and its translation.
- You asked me about the ring, why I'm divorced, but I still wear it? - asked Betty, showing a wedding ring on the ring finger of her left hand, - Because I don't want anyone to know that I'm divorced. Men in passing cars, when they see me, stop and honk, offer to meet and shout obscene things. That's why I wear a ring and try to wear dark clothes more often than light ones. You also asked about gloves. I wear them not because of religion, but because my skin burns in the sun, and I also constantly have to use sunscreen.
I would like to invite you over and cook something, but I can’t do this, because the owner of the apartment lives with me on the same floor, and if he sees a man with me, then I will have problems.
- But how can you find a husband if you wear a ring and tell everyone that you are married, you can’t invite anyone to your house and you yourself don’t go to anyone, being a “married” woman?
- Alex, I'm very lonely here, I've been living alone for six years. I pray to Allah and do namaz five times a day, and I feel better.
The word “tanha” (adj. lonely), which she used, I have already heard many times before in Iran, it seems to be repeated by both men and women. We finished dinner, and it was time to say goodbye, a taxi pulled up for Betty.
- Movaze b kho det bash (Take care of yourself). I love you! - she said to me in parting, shook my hand firmly and smiling mysteriously, looked into my eyes.
Az dida ne shoma khoshkhal shoda m (thank you, I was glad to meet you), I replied.
My Iranian friend, with whom I was staying, literally bombarded me with questions. I told him about the incident on the bus and asked about what I did not understand. Among them was a new phrase: “Movaze b kho det bash” (Take care of yourself) and an incomprehensible use of “Ai lav yu” (I love you).
Nasser explained to me that Farsi uses the same words for "love" and "like", so when Iranians speak English, they often use the phrase "ay lav yu" (I love you) instead of "ay like yu" ( I like you), without feeling a significant difference between them.
- You really liked this girl, - concluded Nasser, - We very rarely say "Movaze b kho det bash" (take care of yourself).
This is an informal expression, formally it would sound: “Movazeb Khodetun Bashid”, but we will never say it to a random person, and even the formal version is unacceptable to say, for example, at negotiations. “Take care of yourself” is something very personal, we only say that to people who really matter to us, who we care about and care about.
Author: Kozlovsky Alexander.
Book: "Unforgettable Iran". 159 days hitchhiking.
Source: http://sanyok-belarus. people. en/
