nano encounters

A family friend, Gorgan, had made special arrangements to make me feel more comfortable. As I was visiting Iran after several years and am not that familiar with the customs nor language, he wanted my experience to be positive and stress-free. Having someone greet me at the plane and have me bypass the crowded main airport terminal, was definitely a good idea.

At the door to the small airport building, an official asked for my passport, but he used a Farsi word I was not too familiar with – ‘gozar-nameh’ (travel document). So, I asked him if he meant my passport. “Yes, passport. How strange, an Iranian who doesn’t understand Farsi!” he commented and shook his head.

True. He is correct. This Iranian isn’t very Iranian, but certainly is trying to be, as were my ancestors. Perhaps, it is important for me to visit Iran to realize how un-Iranian and how so American I am, and arrive at a mid-point. Time will tell.

Another official took my passport and baggage tag and asked me to kindly drink tea and eat cookies while I wait. The large room was filled with the relatives of the other two men on my flight, but Gorgan was nowhere to be seen. He was supposed to greet me and I was looking forward to seeing his face the second I got of the bus.

My passport was handed back to me and my suitcase delivered rather quickly. After about 40 minutes of waiting around, I located an official and requested to use his phone. He led me to his office and I dialed Gorgan.

“Where are you? I have been waiting at Mashhad airport for the last 40 minutes. I thought you were supposed to receive me here,” I said.

“How can you be at the airport already? Your flight doesn’t arrive for the next two hours!” Gorgan said in a confused and worried voice.

Having travelled across a few different countries and time zones in the last month, my sense of the clock became a bit skewed. However, this two hour mix up wasn’t my fault. The travel agent had it down incorrectly on my itinerary and I didn’t think to check it. Similarly, Gorgan took my word for it and didn’t call the airport to ask when my flight arrives.

About 20 minutes later, Gorgan comes running into the small airport building with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a video camera in the other. After a loud, “Welcome to Iran!” in English, he promptly started to film me. As all eyes turned toward us, I felt all the blood in my body rush to my face and I briskly walked to the exit with Gorgan in tow.

Since it was still light out, I requested that Gorgan take the long way home. I wanted a little tour of Mashhad, a city I had not visited before. The big prominent attraction here is the Imam Reza mosque and its surrounding buildings. Pilgrims travel here from all over the world. One can see the huge golden dome and the blue of the mosque structures from afar. We drove around it and then under it to the other side. Gorgan pointed out some other attractions, parks, and bazaars, and then we reached his home.