Live, from Tehran

So what's the headline say, anyway? Bush makes friends with Iran?
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As I sit here writing this it’s just going on 7 a.m. on Wednesday. This starts our third day in Tehran unfortunately all without access to Internet, as the line in our hotel has been down for the entirety of our stay so far. I was assured by the front desk it would be running again by 8 this morning, but I’ll believe it when Explorer comes up as more than an empty page. One of the more conspiratorial thinkers here in Iran might say that it was no coincidence--they are trying to cut off the American spy from reporting back to headquarters--but that would take a great deal of organized thinking I'm quite convinced is not present in this circumstance.

Girls from the Golhai Danenshgah school
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In our rooms here at the Ferdossi Hotel we receive access to BBC World News, a channel unavailable to Iranian citizens, unless of course they have illegal satellite dishes, which many Iranians do. So we here have had access to the news about the report by the US intelligence agencies predicting that Iran’s nuclear weapon program halted as much as four years ago. I don’t have a sense yet of reactions here by Iranians, but it is something I plan to ask about in the coming days. One Iranian man told me a couple of nights ago that war hasn’t been on the minds of Iranians so much as the fear of further sanctions. His job is importing medical supplies into Iran and describes the impact of the sanctions on the healthcare of many Iranians as he is unable to import from the US, which has some of the most inexpensive and best medical equipment. I’m interested to know the other facets of how the sanctions are impacting Iranian people, besides the overall economy.  I've been able to scan a little news here, enough to see that there are already challenges to the UN sanctions, and I'm wondering now if the same questions will arise in Congress, or if that's too much a jump ahead.

Warhol goes Islam
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Now, to step back a few days….

The meeting place for my group was almost by coincidence a small cordoned-off corner of JFK’s Terminal 1 stationed specifically for the between-flight needs of Muslims. We sat on the Middle-eastern prayer rugs for a quick get-acquainted session. Rather than describe each of our members individually at this point, I’ll instead introduce them along the way, starting with Mark, our delegation leader and the executive director of FoR, a thin, silver-bearded unassuming man whose spent the greater part of his life traveling to about 40 different countries, including a stint of 5 or 6 years in Beirut and southern Lebanon. Our other group leader and the individual who is responsible for my becoming part of this delegation, Leila Zand, decided to stay back in the US when Scott Ritter's visa fell through, and subsequently we lost some members.  As a result, we're a smaller group, which has some advantages and not.  But I'll embark on that discussion another time.

Student artist painting in the gallery
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I won’t detail the long stay at JFK following our introductory session, only to say that after delays our Saturday evening flight departed somewhere in the wee hours of Sunday morning on what was to finally be a nearly 30 hour trip. As our plane approached Tehran to the spread of lights and glowing yellow veins of long highways which spread visibly into nowhere, I commented to David, the group member next to me, a psychiatrist from Iowa, that given the similarities of all cities at night, we could be flying into Des Moines.

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We arrived in the Imam Khomeini Airport also at about 1:30 a.m., and after some delay getting through with our passports, finding our guide and translator Sayed (his title, not his name, as he is a direct descendant of Mohammad), recovering our luggage, we boarding a large yellow bus that would serve as our vessel of transport for the two weeks of our journey.

The airport is some 30 kl from central Tehran, so along the bus ride I stared out the window at the strange mix of ghettos interwoven by small parks with trees lit brilliant blue and green that formed Technicolor tapestries and provided relief to the weathered gray buildings. Also on the outskirts we passed Ayatollah Khomeini’s tomb, the minarets lit not unlike Disney’s magical world.

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As we closed in on the center of town we passed, among the ramshackle storefronts housing motorcycle and appliance stores, the familiar site of expired leaves, yellow and decayed, still hanging to tree limbs. A street sweeper swept them with coarse bristles in the dark morning hours. We arrived at the Ferdossi Hotel at 3:30.

Given the hour of our arrival, our official day wasn’t scheduled to start until noon, so myself, Jonathan, our youngest member and a senior at Union College; Daniel, a well-traveled graphic artist from Seattle currently working for Starbucks; and Leanne, a seminary student from Chicago who has spent time in much of the Middle East, including a year or so in Iraq, headed out early on the streets around the hotel. It was cool with a light but steady rain, and we walked past the British Embassy—the largest such compound in Tehran—and along many stores filled with electronic components, porcelain toilet modules (of both the Eastern and Western variety), and the four of us walked until beckoned by a young man who worked in one of the seemingly endless string of electronic stores. Sa’id spoke very good English and invited us in for tea. We spoke with him and his co-workers (who didn’t speak English. Like many here, they speak Farsi and Turkish). Sa’id told us about the expense of living in Iran. Most young people still live with their parents well into their late twenties, unless they get married. But housing is expensive here, and wages are extremely low. Although there are many cheap commodities, cars, technology and housing can be very expensive.

Notice the Nike swoosh and the FCUK hoodie...
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Yesterday while visiting the last home (current shrine and museum) of Imam Khomeini, a group of about 30 schoolgirls in the 5^th or 6^th grade arrived with their teachers. One of the teachers approached me after a while and asked if we would be willing to speak with her class about why we were in Iran. As it turns out, she was an English teacher. The girls were from a special school generally for the children of college professors and academics. We talked to them a little about the intention of our visit, with help of the teacher translating.  The girls crowded around amidst the photos and depictions of Imam Khomeini, and the irony did not escape me that here we were a bunch of Americans making nice with Islamic females under the very roof of the Ayatollah.  Papa Khomeini indeed seemed to stare disapprovingly from the painting mounted on the wall just behind us.  I handed out some Vermont postcards which they received gleefully, having no idea what Vermont was, nor caring.  But it was a pretty picture with a lake and fall foliage colors.  We exchanged phone numbers with many of the girls asking to write down our communal cell phone, and later that evening one of the girls called, interested to meet with us. Her, her mother and grandmother are meeting us tonight for dinner.

Add the caption yourself. There are just too many possibilities.
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That afternoon we visited an art gallery at the Shah's old palace compound that featured an exhibition by some Iranian artists. For my sister Madeline, I’m uploading a couple of these most interesting portraits.  Dan and I spoke for a while with the curator, who talked about the artists union that exists, and how although there are restrictions in content for what is publicly displayed, there are many private exhibitions where paints are sold to individual collectors, and these exhibitions are not monitored.  Should they be discovered, the parties do risk arrest. No surprise here.

So there is my update for now.  Please let me know if you have questions, would like to hear about other aspects of the trip, etc.  I can tell you that today is a beautiful, warm day probably in the '60's, but my friends in Vermont I know don't want to hear about that....