Women at the Western Wall

This organization is working to break down traditional gender barriers to create a communal space for women and men to pray together at Jerusalem’s Western Wall.

The Western Wall Chris Yunker. CC BY 2.0

Located in Jerusalem’s ancient Old City, the Western Wall marks a central point of religious and spiritual life for millions of Jews, Christians, and Muslims across the world. The wall is believed to mark the only remaining structure of the Temple Mount, the place of the original Temples for the Jewish people, the first of which was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 BCE and the Second Temple by the Romans in 70 CE.

The Western Wall is also referred to as the Kotel, which is just the Hebrew word for “wall,” and as the Wailing Wall in reference to the manner in which the Jewish people wept at the site during the Roman domination of the Levant. The Wall remains a pivotal place of Jewish history and religious life, with thousands visiting the site daily and leaving prayer notes in the stone crevices.

However, in recent years, the Western Wall has also been at the center of religious debates concerning traditional gender separation. For generations, men and women have visited and prayed at the Western Wall in separate sections, the measures of which are not equal. Stretching just 12 meters in width, the women’s section 36 meters short of-the male side.

Women of the Wall

Woman praying at the Wall. it is elisa. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

An organization called Women of the Wall (WOW) is working to increase women’s rights and equality at the Western Wall. The organization’s first meeting occurred in 1988, with 70 Jewish women gathering at the Western Wall to join together in prayer and the Torah reading, where they were met with stark disapproval and verbal assaults from Orthodox Jewish men and women. The event led to WOW’s founding and beginning of its legal fight to empower women to pray at the Western Wall, going against Orthodox norms.

By drawing on systems of social advocacy, education and empowerment WOW is seeking social and legal acceptance of women’s right to wear prayer shawls and to pray and read aloud from the Torah. The group’s mission advocates for women’s right with regards to the four t’s: the right to say a prayer, or Tefillah, the right to wear traditional leather wraps, or Tefillin, that are inscribed with verses from the Torah, the right to wear prayer shawls known as Tallit, and finally the right to read aloud from the Torah.

Along with its advocacy work, WOW regularly gathers together in community at the Western Wall. The group commemorates Rosh Chodesh, a Jewish holiday that marks the new moon at the beginning of each month in the Hebrew calendar, with a collective morning prayer at the Kotel. The holiday is traditionally connected to a celebration of women, with origins dating back to the time of Moses when wives refused to give up their jewelry to build the golden calf, a symbol of sin and idolatry in the Torah.

While these monthly prayer gatherings are a means of celebrating Jewish women’s spiritual life and collective community, they are often met with violence and aggression. The women of WOW are often double searched at the entrance to ensure that they are not smuggling in a Torah, and the group regularly face physical and verbal aggression from the Ultra Orthodox community, an experience that often leaves them with scars and bruises after their day of prayer.

Members of WOW are accustomed to receiving verbal and physical pushback against their cause, and even being spit on by those who view their message as sacrilegious.

A Legal Battle

In 1988 the Ministry of Religion established The Western Wall Foundation, a government body responsible for the care and administration of the Western Wall. Rabbi Shmuel Rabinovitch has served as chairman of the foundation since 1995 and has been known for his efforts to maintain traditional Orthodox customs at the Wall. Rabbi Rabinowitz has criticized WOW’s work in the past, including in 2014 when he spoke out against  activists efforts to smuggle a Torah into the women’s section of the Wall. 

In spite of women’s legal right to read the Torah, Rabbi Rabinovitch has created regulations that prevent women from bringing in Torahs into the Plaza. Furthermore, Rabbi Rabinovitch’s regulations prevent women from borrowing one of the 200 Torah scrolls kept within the Plaza, which are freely offered to men. 

In April 2013, a decision written by Judge Moshe Sobell in the case of Israel Police v. Lesley Sachs, Bonnie Riva Ras, Sylvie Rozenbaum, R. Valerie Stessin, & Sharona Kramer, found that the Israeli Supreme Court’s 2003 case which prohibited women from wearing prayer shawls or reading from the Torah had been misinterpreted, and could not be applied to WOW. Judge Sobell also found that WOW had not endangered the public peace, nor had it violated the Law of Holy Places governing the Western Wall that demands visitors adhere to the local customs. Instead, the ruling dictated that local customs should be determined by the public through  nationalistic and pluralistic lenses in addition to the Orthodox one.

The 2013 court decision helped spur ongoing discussions regarding communal prayer spaces at the Wall. In 2013, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu appointed a committee chaired by Natan Sharansky to resolve the issue of communal prayer at the Wall. Sharansky proposed to extend the Western Wall plaza to an area known as Robinson’s Arch in order to provide a pluralistic prayer space for both men and women. The area can accommodate some 450 people, and was seen in many ways as a temporary solution to the question of mixed-gendered prayer. 

In January 2016, the Israeli government approved a plan to set up a communal space in which both men and women could pray together. The plan will also give women who want to pray alone but not in accordance with Orthodox rules the option to set up a temporary barrier. 

The new area is expected to double the size of the temporary communal prayer area set up in 2013 under Netanyahu, in order to accommodate 1,200 worshippers. 

The fight for communal prayer spaces remains a contentious issue between Orthodox and Reformed communities. Although the plan for a pluralistic prayer space was passed by the Knesset, Israel’s legislature, in 2016, as of 2023 the construction and implementation have not yet begun. The issue remains a top priority for members of WOW, who will continue to pray at the Wall’s women’s section until a pluralistic prayer space is constructed.

Get Involved

Other organizations in Israel have come out in support of WOW and embraced a pluralistic perspective towards religious traditions. 

Rabbi Danny Rich, a chief executive of Liberal Judaism, celebrated the decision for a communal prayer space as one that represented Judaism’s inclusivity. Through education opportunities, social action campaigns, collaborative interfaith work, and its provision of programming and library of historical archives, Liberal Judaism engages with social justice issues such as climate change, inequality, and poverty.  

The Israel Movement for Reform and Progressive Judaism has also praised the women’s representation at the Western Wall, as an exemplification of pluralism and diversity within Jewish community. The Movement seeks to increase the accessibility of progressive and pluralistic Judaism through education programming as well as legislation changes as part of their Israel Religious Action Center (IRAC). Along with their advocacy work, the IRAC offers resources and publications that engage with modern social issues through a progressive and religious lens. 

Jessica Blatt

Jessica Blatt graduated from Barnard College with a degree in English. Along with journalism, she is passionate about creative writing and storytelling that inspires readers to engage with the world around them. She hopes to share her love for travel and learning about new cultures through her work.

Water Protests Erupt in the Middle East

Droughts have caused agricultural collapse and water shortages across several Middle Eastern countries, with recent protests erupting, calling for governments to take action.

Lut Desert, Iran. Ninara. CC BY 2.0.

The recent  protests in Iran over water scarcity were a part of unrest and rebellion across the entire Middle East after droughts caused agricultural collapse and water shortages in several countries.

The protests began in the oil-rich southwestern province of Khuzestan after accusations that the Iranian government is diverting water to drill for oil. At least eight protestors were killed in different cities.

Climate change is partly responsible for the protests, due to droughts and sandstorms but years of government inefficiency have also largely contributed to the problem. Many development projects put forth in Khuzestan over the years have caused environmental damage and water shortages, including the construction of hydroelectric dams, water transfers to neighboring provinces and irrigation schemes that have only fed agriculture.

According to Khuzestan lawmaker Mojtaba Youssefi, more than 700 villages in the province do not have drinking water and many farmers’ livestock have died of thirst.

Authorities in the area have reacted to the water protests with violence and have cut internet access.

Drought is one of the most significant drivers of conflict not just in Iran, but also everywhere in the Middle East. For example, agricultural collapse and droughts caused many rural Syrian families to migrate to cities and fight for resources and jobs.

The northern Syrian countryside in high summer. Charles Roffey. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Droughts have been a historical constant in the Middle East, but water shortages are becoming even more intense and are present for greater lengths of time due to longer dry seasons and higher temperatures which are driven by global warming.

Yet, politicians and government corruption are also to blame for the droughts. Water shortages only continue to point toward unrest and rebellion, prolonging the social and political trouble that climate change has already caused. Also, the ineffectiveness of water dams in Iraq have caused acute and chronic water shortages there as well.

To make up for these water shortages, farmers and governments are pumping huge amounts of groundwater, which risks turning fertile land into deserts. In 2015, NASA satellites mapped water losses in the region since 2002 and found that parts of Iran and Iraq had lost from 6 to 10 inches of groundwater due to human activity.

As the conflict progresses in Iran, there are risks of violence between neighboring states competing over water resources.

GET INVOLVED

The Borgen Project is a nonprofit that addresses global poverty and hunger and works towards ending them. With their project on the water crisis in the Middle East, they offer internships and volunteering opportunities as well as accept donations. 

Water for People is another organization which brings water, sanitation and hygiene services to those in need. People can get involved with this nonprofit by fundraising, partnering with the company and volunteering.

Isabelle Durso

Isabelle is an undergraduate student at Boston University currently on campus in Boston. She is double majoring in Journalism and Film & Television, and she is interested in being a travel writer and writing human-interest stories around the world. Isabelle loves to explore and experience new cultures, and she hopes to share other people's stories through her writing. In the future, she intends to keep writing journalistic articles as well as creative screenplays.

Hidden Afghanistan

From the apricot and walnut groves of the beautiful Panjshir valley, to the strips of cultivated green set against the dry pink and tan of the mountains in Bamyan, to the glittering sapphire blue lakes of Band-e Amir, I went in search of the real Afghanistan.

The country’s rich cultural history, rugged landscape, and the legendary generosity of Afghan people, have long been a draw for adventurers and travellers alike, but for now, still struggling with deep-rooted insurgency, Afghanistan remains firmly off the radar for most. Plagued by terrorism and war, the most recent cycle of bloodshed and instability has left the country with a reputation for violence and little good ever makes our TV screens in the West. For too many, our narrative around countries like Afghanistan has been reduced to a single story.

As part of my work on a book called Life in the Himalayas — looking at people’s everyday working lives throughout this diverse and magnificent mountain range, from the high plateau of Tibet to the foothills of Myanmar — I spent three weeks documenting the lives of agropastoralists in Afghanistan, and exploring this battered but beautiful country. I set out to focus on rural areas, everyday life and culture, going in search of the real Afghanistan, away from the vestiges of war and terror.

Kabul

I started off in the bustling markets in the country’s capital, Kabul, a chaotic little jungle of trinket shops, carpet sellers and giant chunks of Lapis filling windows. Occasionally I felt uneasy under the stares of watchful eyes as I poked my way through the dusty streets. Mostly it felt like any other vibrant bazaar in Asia, people going about their busy day.
 

I ate in smoke filled restaurants sitting cross-legged on cushions. Whole sheep carcasses are hung directly above the stove and the cook simply butchers off the bits he needs and throws them into a big black pot, along with fistfuls of fresh herbs and spices. Huge roundels of hot naan breads are piled high on the tables and you pay for what you eat. There is a genuine old-world feeling in Kabul that is rare to find these days.
 

Panjshir Valley

From Kabul I travelled to Istalif, a district famous for its distinctive blue pottery, and then by road to the stunning Panjshir Valley, one of the most celebrated places in Afghanistan, located in the heart of the Hindu Kush mountains. Its name means ‘Valley of the Five Lions,’ which according to local legend refers to five spiritual protectors or ‘wali’ who built a dam here during the early 11th century AD for Sultan Mahmud of Ghazni.
 

The Panjshir river starts from a narrow gorge where snowmelt turn the river into a torrent, rich with fish. It gradually widens into the valley to reveal carefully irrigated fields of wheat and maize dotted with walnut, apricot and mulberry groves. 90 percent of farmers in Panjshir Province practice subsistence agriculture, and the war has destroyed irrigation canals and orchards, making many aspects of farmers’ lives a challenge.
 

In recent years, however, international initiatives have assisted local and regional government leaders to introduce improved varieties of wheat and educate farmers on methods for improving yields and irrigation.
 

Bamiyan

In the heart of the Hazarajat, Bamiyan is surely one of the most beautiful parts of the whole country. It was a popular tourist destination during the 1970s, but a decade later became a symbol of resistance to the Soviets. Today, although the valley is still dominated by the gaping cavities in the cliff face, and the rubble is a constant reminder of the Taliban’s rage and destruction of the two ancient Buddha, there is far more to Bamiyan.
 

Guarding the entrance to Bamiyan valley, the ruins of Shahr-e Zohak form a dramatic citadel — perched high on the cliffs at the confluence of the Bamiyan and Kalu rivers. The towers here are some of the most imposing in all of Afghanistan, and are made of mud-brick on stone foundations, with intricate geometric patterns built into their walls. With no doors, they were accessed by ladders that the defenders pulled up behind them.
 

Looking down from the citadel, the views are incredible, with the thin strips of cultivated green in neighbouring valleys like Fulladi providing a striking contrast to the dry pink and tan of the Koh-i Baba mountains.
 

At first glance, the barren hills of the Bamiyan valley appear to promise little, but the snowmelt that issues from them each spring allows the farmers here to irrigate the valley floor and grow crops like potatoes.
 

Donkeys are still the main source of transport in this rural province, and shepherds and their flocks are often compelled to walk long distances.
 

Band-e Amir

Meanwhile, the glittering sapphire blue lakes of Band-e Amir are one of Afghanistan’s most astounding natural sights. In April 2009, Band-e Amir was named the country’s first national park, 36 years after a previous attempt to do so was interrupted by decades of political strife and war.

Formed by the mineral-rich water that seeps out of faults and cracks in the rocky landscape, the six linked lakes of Band-e Amir sparkle like jewels against the dusty mountains that surround them.

Over time layers of hardened mineral deposits called travertine have built up on the shores, to create the dramatic sheer sides that now hold the lakes in place. Local lore tells a different story, asserting that these natural dams were thrown into place by Hazrat Ali, the prophet Muhammad’s son-in-law, during the reign of the infidel king Barbar.

Before gaining its status as a national park this region experienced significant habitat destruction for firewood and farmland, overgrazing and overhunting — the snow leopard has now vanished here — and also damaging fishing practices that involved using hand grenades. Today Band-e-Amir is protected by a small group of park rangers, and is still home to ibex (wild goats), urials (wild sheep), and wolves. Although numbers of visitors to the park remain small, it is hoped that in time, this region will become an important area for tourism in Afghanistan.
 

Herat

Finally in Herat, the country’s old cultural heart, I felt more welcome than anywhere else in the country. Chatting to passing nomads on the outskirts of the city, inside its little bazaars, visiting the Friday Mosque — one of Islam’s great buildings — I spoke openly with burqa sellers about the state of the country. Here I discovered an Afghanistan most people simply don’t know exists. Afghans are proud of their culture, they are welcoming, generous and have a sharp sense of humour.

On my last day, insurgents attacked one of the big hotels in Kabul. I could hear helicopters and sirens all day and was advised that it was best not to leave the house. The next morning a gunfight broke out beside the road on the way to the airport. Sand bags and gun turrets occupy every corner and the frequent security checks are a sobering reminder of how unstable and precarious daily life is for the people of Afghanistan, whose resilience remains under great strain in these troubled times.

Let us hope that one day, a lasting peace will come to this battered, but proud and ancient country, allowing travellers to experience its beauty and welcome, and to step onto the fabled silk route once more.
 

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA.

Driven by his passion for travel, the environment and remote cultures, Alex Treadway has travelled to dozens of countries around the world on assignment.

Middle Eastern Countries Combat Stigma Surrounding Mental Health

While the stigmatization of mental health issues is common worldwide, sociocultural factors specific to the Middle East often prevent individuals from seeking treatment.

A drawing depicting mental health issues. Pixabay.

Mental health services are more urgently needed now than ever before. The world is currently facing a mental health epidemic, with over 264 million people struggling with depression in 2019. The additional stress and uncertainty caused by the COVID-19 pandemic have caused anxiety and depression levels to skyrocket. For many individuals, it has become even harder to participate in counseling programs. According to the World Economic Forum, over 93% of countries have reported a disruption in their mental health services since the pandemic started. 

In the Middle East, mental health awareness continues to rise, especially in the Gulf countries among the nations’ youth. A recent poll conducted in the Gulf region reported that 62% of youth agree that mental health issues are important. Even so, a recent survey in Saudi Arabia revealed that 80% of people struggling with severe mental health issues do not seek treatment. Similarly, this year’s Arab Youth Survey, which interviewed 4,000 young adults ages 18-24 from 17 Arab countries, revealed that mental health issues are rampant, with the number of people affected continuing to rise. 

Difficulties in Obtaining Proper Mental Health Care

The Kaaba in Mecca, Saudi Arabia, the holiest site in Islam. Konevi, Pixabay.

A prevalent culture of stigmatization in Middle Eastern countries prevents many individuals from seeking treatment in the first place. Due to the shame associated with mental health issues, privacy between the client and their mental health professional is of utmost concern. In many cases, mental health issues place a burden on a family’s reputation and social status. Rania Raine, a 43-year-old British-Egyptian art teacher who struggles with mental health, states that, “It’s the ‘shame’ families have, that their child isn’t perfect, that their lives are not perfect and what will people say, what will the neighbors say, society say–and then it all leads to marriage, how no one will marry the child who has a mental health condition, or worse still, ruin the chances of marriage of the other siblings.” 

Although the stigmatization of mental health conditions is common in Muslim communities, Ph.D. researcher Mounira al-Dousari states that they are “reflections of cultural practices and discourse.” There is a growing movement among mental health professionals to include faith in therapy, which results in a faster recovery for some clients. It’s also important to note that many forms of therapy use predominantly Western practices, which need to be diversified to appeal to a larger audience. According to Dousari, “When it comes to Islam, Muslim scholars and those working in the mental health field are working harder than ever to establish well-structured Islamically integrated psychotherapy models.”

Additionally, the financial burdens of seeking mental health treatment raise another concern. Even though mental health care is free in some public hospitals, many people do not trust them due to privacy concerns. Prices for private mental health care sessions are quite expensive. For example, Dousari’s research sessions cost $225 an hour, a large sum even for well-off families. 

Historic Treatment of Mental Illness in the Middle East

An entrance to the Moristan of Kala’oon, a mental health hospital in Egypt, 1878. Werner. CC2.5

Although mental health remains a prevalent issue in the region, the Middle East was well known for mental health treatment during the Islamic Golden Age. The term bimaristan, Persian for “home for the sick,” refers to entire psychiatric hospitals where a patient’s mind, body and soul were considered part of the treatment process. First opened in Fez, Morocco, and in Baghdad in the eighth century and later in Cairo, Damascus and Aleppo in the ninth, the practice was initially introduced by physician Ahmed ibn Sahl al-Balkhi. A famous manuscript written by Balkhi called “Sustenance for Bodies and Souls” was written in clear, understandable language and helped make mental health education more accessible to the public. Unfortunately, the practice declined throughout the centuries and does not occur in the mainstream today. 

Additionally, Dr. Mamoun Mobayed, director of the treatment and rehabilitation department at Behavioral Healthcare Center in Qatar, emphasizes that the stigmatization of diseases is a global phenomenon. “Any disease thought to be infectious or bizarre-looking, like leprosy, has always been stigmatized. Even with COVID-19, there have been cases where paramedics working with COVID-19 patients have been avoided due to the fear and stigma attached to the virus.”

In recent years, mental health awareness in the Middle East has become a top priority, with many countries starting their own wellness initiatives and campaigns. 

Qatar Paves the Way in the Gulf

Sidra Medical and Research Center in Qatar. Sergeev. CC3.0

Qatar launched a new mental health program in conjunction with World Mental Health Day. Being the first country in the Gulf to start such an initiative, the Wellness Ambassadors program aims “to promote mental health support and break the stigma attached to mental health conditions at school level.” Program ambassadors received comprehensive training on mental health issues such as anxiety, depression and bullying while breaking cultural misconceptions surrounding mental health. Dr. Mobayed states that educating individuals about mental health issues serves “to remove the barriers associated with mental health and know they are normal humans with a disorder in the mind.” 

Turkish Counseling Services Provide Assistance

Taksim Square in Istanbul. Pixabay.

A crisis helpline in Turkey helps those struggling with mental health issues during the pandemic. Supported by the World Health Organization, the service is accessible in all of Turkey’s 81 provinces and consists of 418 staff members trained in helping individuals manage stress and access mental health resources. So far, the service has offered more than 80,000 consultations since its inception. 

Social Media Campaigns in Kuwait Lead to Legislative Action

Youth in Kuwait. Wikimedia Commons. CC2.0

Kuwait enacted its first mental health law in 2019, which passed unanimously through the national assembly. Instrumental to this success were numerous social media campaigns led by youth, artists and mental health advocates. The founder of ASAP Beauty, Sheika Majda al-Sabah, credits her involvement in the campaign to her own struggles with depression. Other campaigns include “Mind Me”, “Human Line Organization” and “Taqabal”, with trending hashtags such as #noshame working to spread awareness. Outreach events helped to create a welcoming climate where people could speak more openly and denounce negative stereotypes surrounding mental illness. Since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, an online program called Corona Care provides mental health services for those in need. Additionally, the Gulf Program for Mental Health encourages countries to develop comprehensive mental health programs that adhere to international standards. 

Although there is still work needed to break down barriers surrounding mental health treatment, Middle Eastern countries seem ready to rise to the challenge. 

To Get Involved: 

Check out social media campaign pages “Mind Me”, “Human Line Organization” and “Taqabal” working toward mental health awareness in Kuwait. Visit the website of the Institute for Muslim Mental Health, which focuses on providing support for Muslims in the United States. The Journal of Muslim Mental Health is an excellent resource to learn about issues affecting the Muslim community in the United States and globally. 

Megan Gürer

Megan is a Turkish-American student at Wellesley College in Massachusetts studying Biological Sciences. Passionate about environmental issues and learning about other cultures, she dreams of exploring the globe. In her free time, she enjoys cooking, singing, and composing music.

PHOTOESSAY: The Young Men of the Free Syrian Army

The front lines of the Syrian Civil War trace through alleys and ancient streets in the Old City of Aleppo. Defending these lines are young men, most less than two decades old, carrying AK-47s and homemade grenades.

They have no military training and will not wear body armor for fear of delaying the time of death anointed for them by Allah. They are kids and recent college graduates who picked up guns for their country and, most of all, for revenge. All have lost friends and family to Assad. "These young men are warmhearted and hospitable, but daily burdened and degraded by the fighting. Every fighter I met had a different story that brought him to Aleppo; this project attempts to tell those stories.” — Cengiz Yar.

CENGIZ YAR @cengizyar

Based out of Chicago, Cengiz is a documentary photographer and freelance photojournalist whose work has been featured in publications around the world. His photography focuses on human conflicts, both violent and peaceful, and aims to encourage understanding by fostering interest and making the alien familiar.

IRAN: A Look Inside

Impressions and moments captured from behind Iran's closed curtain, as Brook Mitchell traversed the Islamic Republic during the country's "Ten Days of Dawn" celebrations and rallies, to mark the anniversary of the 1979 revolution. 

Each year on February 1st — the date Iran’s former supreme leader Ayatollah Khomeini returned to the country in 1979, after 15 years of exile — the Islamic Republic begins its annual “Ten Days of Dawn” celebrations. The tenth day marks the date that Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s regime officially collapsed, and events are held throughout the country to commemorate the anniversary of the 1979 revolution.

The celebrations offer the state-controlled media the opportunity to portray a people united behind the country’s leadership, with appeals to a sense of nostalgia, national pride and Islamic unity.  Just how much of this rhetoric really hits home with the people of Iran is hard to know.

Most travelers returning from Iran will tell you about the legendary hospitality and natural curiosity of locals toward outsiders.

This was certainly my experience. Traveling solo, spending time in both the major cities and some of the smaller, more remote and down-trodden settlements, I was always made to feel welcome. I also never questioned my safety, except for some white-knuckle taxi rides through Tehran.

My goal was simply to see and shoot as much as I could while I had the chance. I experienced few issues taking pictures, and especially outside the major cities people were surprisingly open to being photographed. 

Below is Khaju Bridge in Isfahan at sunset. The bridge and its banks are a popular meeting place for young people and local families.  

Despite the welcome, traveling at this time of year it was abundantly clear that some older attitudes die hard. Although much of the hype surrounding the anniversary of the 1979 revolution appeared to be artificially whipped up by the authorities, the sight of young children propped up on their parent’s shoulders, holding placards that called for the death of the Islamic State’s perceived enemies, was hard to ignore.

In the city of Yazd I clambered up some dodgy scaffolding to take the picture below, which was one of the more surreal experiences of my trip. Even as the revolution celebrations reached fever pitch, most people simply waved and smiled, despite the hostile sentiment.

The former US embassy in the capital city of Tehran remains in much the same state as shown in the movie Argo. Now something of a museum, complete with wax figures representing former embassy staff, it is only technically open to visitors a few days each year. Anti-American murals such as those below have long been part of the urban landscape in Iran.

From these grisly monuments and stark murals around the former US embassy, to the huge national protests, rallies, and celebrations held throughout the first ten days of February, there were constant reminders that reconciliation with the West still has some way to go.

Above: Khaju Bridge in Isfahan 

However, not long after my visit a number of major steps towards this seemingly improbable reconciliation took place. Today, with the prospect of economic sanctions being fully lifted, the authorities are promoting the lofty goal of making tourism one of the country’s largest exports.  

Below is an image of a fellow tourist who spent the better part of an hour posing for pictures for her friends at the beautiful Nasīr al-Mulk Mosque in Shiraz. The building is famous for the early morning light cast through its ornate stained glass windows.

Lifting the sanctions will hopefully remove two of the more significant difficulties faced by travelers to the country. At the time of my visit, Iran was almost completely cut off from the international banking system, leaving independent travelers with little or no access to funds, even in an emergency. This meant carrying all the cash I needed for my entire trip.

Above: Nasīr al-Mulk Mosque 

Added to this was the famously difficult visa situation. I arrived into Tehran at 3.00am armed only with a letter of invitation, which had been paid for in advance via a numbered Swiss bank account. After a cursory check over my documents, a friendly though wary customs officer disappeared into a back room to discuss my situation with a superior.  

After what seemed like an hour he returned, smiled, and welcomed me to the country with a crunching stamp across my newly minted visa. After all the tension, I half went to high five the officer — the pressure was off.

Yet these relatively minor inconveniences pale into insignificance compared to the challenges the Iranian people have had to endure under the crippling economic sanctions brought on by the bluster of their uncompromising, theocratic leaders. Hyper inflation had brought their country’s economy to a grinding halt. 

Below is a man bearing a placard with images of the supreme leader of Iran, Ali Khamenei, and the ‘the eternal religious and political leader of Iran,’ Ruhollah Khomeini.

The struggling economy, coupled with instability and insecurity, have pushed many to seek a better life outside of Iran, seeking refuge in Europe, the US, and beyond. For a brief period Iranian asylum seekers had also been arriving in large numbers via perilous boat journeys to my home country, arriving on Australia’s north coast from ports in Indonesia. Boat arrivals in Australia are presently not allowed to stay in the country and are shipped off to the small islands of Naru and Manus for deportation or relocation to third countries, most recently Cambodia.

For all the genuine pride in their country people showed me, there were just as many stories from people hoping to leave, by any means possible.

From a taxi driver who showed myself and some other travelers photos of his lacerated back after he was given lashes for drinking home made beer, to an older man who brought himself to tears talking of his beloved brother, shot by the police for translating books into English a decade earlier, it was clear that many living in Iran have extremely good reasons to search for a better life elsewhere.

Below is a young girl and her mother leaning over the graves of some of those who lost their lives fighting during the 1979 revolution.

Yet from a traveler’s perspective the country is incredible.

Everything is cheap and the standard of hotels and food is generally pretty good. Mercifully, moving forests of selfie sticks are nowhere to be found. Well-known spots were busy at times, but never so much as to feel over crowded. Time will tell how long this will continue to be the case.

Below is Naqsh-e Rustam, an ancient necropolis with an impressive group of ancient rock reliefs cut and carved into the cliff. The oldest relief dates back to around 1,000 BC.

Below are two stone bulls flanking the north side of the Throne Hall at the UNESCO world Heritage site of Persepolis. Literally translating to “city of Persians,” the city Persepolis was the ceremonial capital of the Achaemenid Empire, from around 550–330 BC.

Near Yazd are the ancient Zoroastrian ‘Towers of Silence.’ The Zoroastrians ‘purified’ their dead by exposing the bodies to the elements and to birds of prey, on top of these flat-topped towers, called dakhmas.

While in the city of Isfahan, I visited the beautiful Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque. Along with the Naghsh-e Jahan Square on which it borders, the mosque is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Early mornings see brilliant rays of light illuminate the intricate tile work of the building.

Also in Isfahan is Vank Cathederal, established by Armenian deportees settled by Shah Abbas I after the Ottoman War of 1603–1605. Today, this building remains one of the few Christian places of worship in Iran, and has many beautiful, fading murals within its interior.

One of the most interesting areas I explored during my visit was the southern region of the country, particularly the small islands and towns along the Persian Gulf coast. Thanks to the region’s colonial history as both a slave trading port and a stop on ancient trading routes, the area is home to the most ethnically diverse people in the country. 

One morning I shared a simple breakfast of fruit and tea with the woman below, and afterwards she was happy for me to take her picture.

The capital city of this region is called Bandar Abbas, and is a major port for smuggled goods coming from Dubai and Oman. It is home to the Bandari ethnic group, which literally translates as ‘people of the port’.

The locals here dress colourfully and still practice many customs that differ somewhat from the rest of the country. For me, it was the potential for some colour and a break from the dark chador worn throughout much of Iran, that made it so appealing to visit.

Early one evening in Bandar Abbas, I paused alongside a large crowd gathered to watch a sideshow, a common sight in the region. 

Below is a group of young men working to fix an Iranian built Paykan Taxi. When I returned to the city a week later, the men were still working on the cab, seemingly no closer to getting it moving.

Taking a short drive from the city of Bandar Abbas I arrived at the small town of Minab, seen below, where the people from around this vast area gather each week to sell their wares at the famous ‘Panjshambe Bazar’.

The striking coloured masks worn by the women of this region are said to have originated at a time when the Portuguese colonists would take the prettiest girls as slaves, and the masks would help to shield young girls from unwanted attention. I learned that each town in the region has its own signature variation of mask, varying in colour and construction.

The Panjshambe Bazar was a fascinating glimpse into the lives of the different cultures and people who call this area home. While there were large sections of the town dedicated to selling ubiquitous imported goods, there was still much to see that wouldn’t have changed much since Marco Polo made a visit — from the bustling livestock market, to the vendors selling colourful fabrics and homegrown produce.

For a fully grown, healthy goat, the prices seemed to hover around the 40 USD mark, a large sum of money for Iranians struggling in an economy crippled by sanctions and high inflation.

Below is a masked woman smoking tobacco from a waterpipe, or nargeela in Persian. This practice is banned for women throughout Iran in public places, but it remains popular amongst vendors at the market in Minab, who can often be found discreetly puffing away.

From tiny Minab I worked my way around to explore two rocky and arid islands just off the coast in the Persian Gulf, called Qeshm and Hormuz. On Hormuz, due to the severe lack of fresh water, Iranian engineers have constructed a water pipeline from the mainland.

Both islands are home to some of the oldest settlements in the Middle East, with a number of historic mosques and shrines, and I explored the crumbling ruins of ancient Portuguese castles and forts.

In 1507 the Portuguese conqueror Afonso de Albuquerque attacked the island of Hormuz, and it became a part of the Portuguese Empire. For over a hundred years, the Portuguese occupied the island, also capturing other islands and ports nearby, including the island of Qeshm. Their rule came to an end in 1622 when the Safavid king, Abbas I, conquered the Portuguese territories, forcing them to leave the Persian Gulf. Below you see remains of a chapel at the Portuguese fort on the island of Hormuz.

During 2009 Iran and Portugal prepared joint plans to restore historical sites in this region, however, little work seems to have taken place since then. These two young girls were passing through the ruins of the ancient Portuguese castle in the village of Laft, on Qeshm island.

Qeshm island is also home to large reserves of natural gas and a massive military presence. In early 2012, an underground military facility was established, designed to house Iran’s Ghadir-Nahang class submarines. The week after my visit a mock US warship was sunk just off the coast here by missiles fired from the main base in the east of the island.

Military service is mandatory for Iranian men. Except for special exemption cases, men not completing their service are unable to apply for a driving license, passport, or leave the country without permission.

Today the communities living on the islands of Hormuz and Qeshm are small, and in addition to natural gas exploration and production, fishing is one of the primary occupations for inhabitants of these islands.

Above you see a partially constructed Iranian lenge on Qeshm island, which is a traditional style of fishing vessel made of wood.

Above: (Left) A colourfully adorned house on Hormuz with a poster of Iran’s past and present. (Right) Women on Qeshm Island 

My hope is that the images shared in this story show a bit of both sides of Iran, as it is certainly a place that defies preconceptions.

Today, despite its beauty, rich history, and welcoming people, there is still a long way to go before it becomes a country where all of its people can feel safe, secure, and able to provide a better life for their children

Above: Morning light shines across the spectacular Nasīr al-Mulk Mosque in the city of Shiraz. The exterior of the building was completed in 1888. 

 

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA  

 

BROOK MITCHELL

@brookmitchell

Brook Mitchell is a photographer and writer based in Sydney, Australia. His work ranges from local and national press for Getty Images and The Sydney Morning Herald, to longer form editorial articles and photo essays from around the globe.  

AFGHANISTAN: No Burqas Behind Bars

In this upcoming, feature-length documentary by Nima Sarvestani, the viewer is taken inside one of the world's most restricted environments: an Afghan women's prison. Through the prisoners' stories we explore how "moral crimes" are used to control women in post-Taliban Afghanistan. And no — full burqas are not allowed inside the prison gates! 

PAKISTAN: Meet 25-Year-Old Shazia, Her Country's First Female Firefighter Who Is Redefining Badass

When we talk about firefighting, most of us picture robust men running out of red fire vans, jumping right into the blazing fire, not giving a damn about their own safety and saving lives. Little or no women choose the profession, at least if you go by the figures in Asia. 

While India got it's first set of women firefighters in Mumbai in 2012, Pakistan has followed suit and 25-year-old Shazia Perveen proudly stands as the first firefighter in the country, according to Rescue 1122, a firefighting training organisation based out of Pakistan. 

Source : vehari.sujag.org

A certified firefighter, Shazia usually helps other firefighters when women victims are involved. 

In a male-dominated profession, Perveen has not only made a mark, but also stands as an inspiration for women across the globe to opt for a profession they usually wouldn't.  

Hailing from the Vehari district in Punjab, Pakistan, Perveen joined the Rescue 1122 emergency services as a firefighter in 2010. What made her choose the profession? Perveen says this has always been a dream job for her and she jumped at the opportunity when Rescue 1122 opened a Women’s Department. 

Source :  www.learyfirefighters.org

Talking to a Pakistani portal, vehari.sujag.org, she said she was enthusiastic about working shoulder-to-shoulder with men. However, it wasn't an easy journey for her. Out of the 600 women who signed up for the training, only she completed it, like a boss! The training included learning to swim, jump, fight fire, and climbing roofs with the help of ropes.

“At the outset, people would laugh at me when they saw me working with male workers. But afterwards, when I saved their precious properties during fires, they started admiring me,” she added. 

“Here, it is believed that women are only able to start fires, whereas I have disproved this old adage and now I extinguish fires,” she signs off.

 

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON SCOOPWHOOP

 

Isha Jalan

@Jalanisha 

Isha Jalan is a staff writer for ScoopWhoop, who is "exploring the world outside, and the one inside."

Why You Should Ski in Afghanistan

Afghanistan.

Just the mention of the word sends images into the mind. Military units driving through deserts, windswept mud brick villages and broken arid urban landscapes. When I mention the possibility of going skiing in Afghanistan it can get some strange responses. Forget about the risk, the first question is, “Is there any snow?”

Whilst it is true that much of Afghanistan is desert or semi-desert and that it hardly ever rains, it does snow. In the mountains it snows a lot. The snow is the lifeblood of Afghanistan. As it melts, it flows through the rivers that fill the canals that irrigate the fields.  A good snowfall ensures that the people of small rural communities will have a good harvest and can feed their families and livestock. A poor snowfall often leads to a drought and a famine. However, the snow in Afghanistan is both a blessing and a curse. Heavy snow cuts off villages in the mountain and every winter people freeze to death or are crushed by avalanches.

Families wait for the snow to melt hoping to survive the winter until they can reap the reward that the snow will bring in the summer. For thousands of years there has been nothing for the people to do in the winter except wait for the spring... until now.

This winter young men from the villages of Kushkak, Jawzari, Ali Baig, and of the valleys of Qazan and Dukani and Foladi will pull on home made skis, crafted from wooden planks, with edges made from flattened tin cans and with poles snapped from a nearby tree. Some will be selected for training to represent their valley in a competition to see which valley can produce the best skier. They will be given modern ski gear to use. They’ll be taught how to ski, and they’ll receive basic training in first aid and avalanche awareness — skills they can take back to their village and potentially use to save lives.

A handful of young men from Bamian, in Central Afghanistan have already begun guiding foreign skiers—both ex-pats from Kabul and visitors from around the world who are trickling into the region to try out Afghan skiing first hand.

So how did this happen? 

At the beginning of the winter of 2010 almost no one had skied in the province of Bamian. The valley's chief claim to fame had been the giant Buddha statues carved into the cliffs overlooking the town of Bamian. Tragically the two statues—which were about 1400 years old—were destroyed by the Taliban in 2001 robbing the world of two of its most important ancient Buddhist relics, and robbing the people of Bamian of one of their key sources of tourist income. For Afghans, Bamian province was also well known for the lakes of Band e Amir  —a series of five lakes formed by natural travertine dams, that appear like a mirage in this high, arid landscape. In the summer Kabuli families come here to picnic and to escape the dust and heat.

Bamian is also home to the Hazara people. The Hazaras are recognisable by their Mongoloid features. They’re Shia Muslims, unlike most Afghans, who are Sunni. In popular tradition they are reputed to be the remnants of the Mongol armies who came to the region with Genghis Khan. Historically they have been looked down upon by the ethnic Pushtuns and Tajiks who make up most of Afghanistan’s population. Some radical Sunnis—such as the Taliban—have seen them as heretics because of their Shia faith. Modern Afghanistan has always been ruled by Pushtun kings or Pushtun dominated governments who have tended to overlook the Hazaras. However, there have been important changes in Bamian since the fall of the Taliban in 2001. It is no Shangri-La—there is little electricity, the province is one of the poorest in the country and by any standard it ranks as one of the least developed places on the planet. However, for the first time in decades there are signs of progress and positive change.

Ten years ago, Bamian province had never had a hospital, a paved road, or a university. Now these all exist. There are still many problems, of course, but the Bamian valley is relatively secure and there is none of the anti-government fighting that plagues large parts of the rest of Afghanistan.

An international development agency, the Aga Khan Foundation, saw the potential of promoting tourism in Bamian as a way of giving the people of the province an additional source of income. The Foundation has helped to develop guest houses, organise cultural festivals and provide information about the places of interest in and around Bamian.

That’s fine in the summer when tourists come to the valley, but what about the winter, when guest houses lie empty? Well, the people of Bamian fall back on their timeless winter pastime of just surviving and waiting until the Spring.

But taking their cue from other mountainous developing countries it was clear that any winter income was better than none so the Aga Khan Foundation began the Ski Bamian programme. With no infrastructure or lifts, the idea was to make the Koh-e-Baba mountains a new destination for ski-touring. 

In 2010 two American skiers were employed for the winter to map out potential routes. They brought only their own equipment so the Afghans had to get creative if they too wanted to ski along with them. Anyone with a small knowledge of Afghan military history will tell you that not having state of the art equipment never stopped the Afghans with competing with foreign powers.  Skiing with no ski equipment was not an insurmountable problem. Strips of wood with battered oil tins for edges were formed—so, the bazaar ski was born.

It quickly became clear that the mountains of Bamian were perfect for skiing and in 2011 a foreign ski trainer arrived to train the first batch of Afghan ski guides. It was early in 2011 that Ali Shah met Nando the Italian ski trainer at his village of Khushkak. Ali Shah was fit, young and spoke good English. Nando asked him what he wanted to be?

“An engineer” said Ali Shah.

“Why you wanna be an engineer? In Kabul there are a thousand engineers. You shoulda be a mountain guide. It's the best job in the world. You spend your whole life in the mountains with beautiful women.”

It may not have been a textbook interview but Ali Shah is now Afghanistan’s best ski guide and Nando's singular teaching style set the basis for the success of the project.

During 2011 and 2012 the annual Afghan Ski Challenge race (Rule number one — no weapons) was organised by a Swiss journalist and has became a focal point for the ski season (www.afghanskichallenge.com). With most Afghan Challengers having only one month’s ski training the Swiss organisers thought it an unfair challenge. They divided the race into Afghan and non-Afghan categories. The challenge is a classic ski touring route which includes skinning up as well as skiing down. They were right to divide the competition as most of the Afghans had finished before the foreigners had even got to the top.

With donations from western organisations like gear4guides (www.gear4guides.com) there is now a well equipped ski rental shop in Bamian serving the local community and the ex-pat and international skiers that trickle in.

My connection with skiing in Afghanistan began in 2009 when I bumped into a Scottish lad who worked for an Afghan aid agency. Ken was hiking with his girlfriend in the Wakhan region of Afghanistan in the far North East and I was leading a group of trekkers. The Wakhan region is the only other part of Afghanistan safe enough to consider these types of outdoor trips.

He told me of a group of British and French skiers working in Afghanistan who regularly skied near Kabul in the winter and if I was serious about being an Afghan tour operator then I should be offering ski trips to Afghanistan. I said I'd join him on a trip that winter.

On the first trip I made we took one of our regular drivers, Ali. For someone who has never skied it is quite hard to explain what we planned to do. Once we loaded up the poles and skis he had a rough idea of what we were up to and wanted to help. At the bottom of the Salang Pass, which crosses the spine of the Hindu Kush, Ali stopped at a small teahouse and ordered food for all of us. As any Afghan will tell you the best thing for breakfast if you are going to spend all day in the snow is Cow’s Foot. Boiled for hours, this gelatinous lump of bone, fat and gristle is never appealing to non-Afghans and the French skiers particularly do not like it. We made a quick note that for the commercial trips, we wouldn’t let the drivers choose the dining options.

But it was then that I saw how skiing was something that really appealed to all the Afghans who saw it. Standing next to Ali as we watched Ken fly down the slopes, he was awestruck. “He is a Djinn,” was Ali's response. Hazaras believe there are mountain spirits and clearly Ken was one. 

In the tea house where we stopped on the way back, Ali regaled the owners with the tale of Ken's exploits. Ken was described as a Djinn and I as a Boz (a goat). I hoped it was a way to describe my sure footedness in the mountains but I think it was more to do with my erratic skiing style. 

In keeping with Afghan tradition, the story was heavily exaggerated but it started a long discussion about skiing, mountains, snow conditions, avalanches and Afghanistan’s future.

It was not only Ali who became a convert. I realised that, Cow’s Foot aside, this was an awesome way to experience Afghanistan in the winter. Skiing was something that was very foreign but the snow and the mountains was a common factor that could bring people together as it had done in that tea house. I also thought Bamian could be the perfect place for skiing. 

It has not always been smooth. A few elders in one or two villages are suspicious about the skiing fuss. They worry the young men will hurt themselves—preventing them from doing the hard farming work—or that skiing will be the thin end of the wedge and they'll get caught up in other foreign un-Islamic ways. This generally does not stop the young boys from hiking up the hills and skiing. “The only say it is bad because they don't know how to ski,” said one boy from Jawzari village.

All the trailheads start from the villages and we have a code of conduct to help ensure that skiers behave properly. The Aga Khan programme representatives have discussed the skiing idea with all the local villages. We pay our respects to the village leaders and maybe take a cup of tea. There are many ways in which thoughtless skiers can cause offence, generally to do with women. In a country where the majority of people are illiterate and there is very limited access to the media, in these isolated rural communities, rumour is often taken as fact. If someone tells a man that the foreigners took a photo of his wife and put it on display in Kabul he will probably believe it. So Rule Number One is—Don’t take pictures of the women. Ever. 

Cultural sensitivity is key to the future of skiing in Afghanistan.
 
When guiding a group of snowboarders last winter we spent a good hour discussing with the headman of one village what we wanted to do in their valley. The snowboarders were professional and were heading to a steep area that had not been ridden, so the villagers were suspicious. It took a great deal of persuasion until he agreed and let us pass around his village. 

As we walked around the village we were watched closely by the men on the rooftops, with no smiles or handshakes. We travelled far up the valley and soon the snowboarders were making jumps from the top of large cliffs. On the second attempt one of them failed to make his landing and crashed in a huge cloud of snow. Suddenly huge cheers rang out from the village below. All the village stood watching on the house rooftops. They liked all the action, but they liked the crashes best of all.

On the way back down there was still staring and silence but we knew the ice had been broken.

We went back to that area for three days and by the end we were inside drinking tea and joking with the local people. 

The key to a successful trip is that the Afghan villagers have a positive experience as well as the visiting skiers.

Afghanistan has always presented a contrast of lifestyles. An abiding memory of my first visit back after years away was of an old man and a young boy herding sheep down an unmade road. With his turban and billowing shalwar-kameez—a long, loose shirt and trousers, the man looked almost Biblical. A closer inspection revealed that his son was wearing a Megadeath t-shirt (presumably a charitable donation). The road they were walking along had a traffic calming feature—a half buried tank caterpillar track to stop cars speeding through the village. Introducing skiing to a small valley in the Hindu Kush seems to build on such contrasts. 

A typical night is spent in rooms heated by wood fire stoves called Bukharis. These are very efficient heaters. You fill them to the maximum before bedtime. It might be -25C outside but we would be sitting in our rooms in shorts and a t-shirt. As the night passes and the fire burns out the temperature plummets in the room and at dawn we'll be inside sleeping bags and the glass of water by the bed will have a layer of ice.

Breakfast could be eggs or pancakes. Where we stay, the cook was trained at a US agency guesthouse. He knows exactly what hungry Westerners like to eat. Recently married, he returned to Bamian from working in Helmand province. The wages are much lower in Bamian but it is safer. In Helmand he always had to carry his ID card to get into the compound. However, if the Taliban stopped him and found this ID card he would be killed.

On a very cold night the diesel will freeze in the vehicles used to take us to the mountains. We'll drink tea whilst a fire is built under the engine to defrost it, and perhaps watch the daily UN helicopter coming in to land at the Bamian military base, managed by the New Zealand army.
 
Once in the villages at the top of the valleys, when we start to skin up we'll be invited in for tea by the village elders. Depending on the weather we'll either accept or continue uphill to make the most of the snow. I'll remind people that they should always remove their shoes when entering a house, never speak directly to the women—and above all, no matter how serious their latest case of Kabul Belly, NEVER to fart in a room with their Afghan hosts. This is perhaps the greatest social faux pas of all.

Often we'll be joined for all or part of the day by the local youths on their home-made skis. Making light work of skinning up and paying little or no attention to our avalanche warnings. they just laugh – “Inshallah” – if God wills it

There is not much to do in the evenings. Alcohol is forbidden, but there is plenty of hearty traditional Afghan food and drink—kebabs, rice and hot drinks. With alcohol forbidden, we like to call this the Apres-Tea scene.

Skiing will not solve all the problems in Afghanistan. It won't solve the problems of Bamian but in a few small valleys in the Hindu Kush they are making a small positive impact to a handful of people and that is something worthwhile.

ORIGINALLY PUBISHED ON TETON GRAVITY RESEARCH


KAUSAR HUSSAIN

Kausar has travelled every inch of Pakistan and Afghanistan and has friends almost everywhere from the bustling bazaars of Kabul to sleepy, poppy growing villages in the Tribal Areas. When not leading tours and running Untamed Borders. Hussain works as a photographer and journalist. He is the chief reporter for "World Problems" magazine and also works freelance. For ten years he has worked with foreign correspondents allowing them access to restricted areas in Afghanistan and Pakistan. He also works with Prince as part of the "World Welfare Organisation", a Peshawar based NGO. He speaks 9 languages and for the last 5 years spends time teaching English to Afghan refugees based in the camps that surround Peshawar. He arranges ski trips to Bamian every year through http://www.untamedborders.com

Irish Surfer Easkey Britton Discovers Iran

Iran is a place where the stereotypical and the surprising, the ancient and the new co-exist. At every turn a complex, millennia-old Iranian culture, different to the culture of its Arabian neighbours for which it is often mistaken.

 It is a land of contradictions and a land not known for its surf-exposed coastline. In fact it wasn’t until I got asked to go on the trip that I even realised that Iran had a coast exposed to any swell at all. A very short strip of coast lies in a narrow swell window between Pakistan and the Gulf of Oman, exposed for a few months of the year during Indian monsoon season. This is a part of Iran that doesn’t feature highly in any travel guides, let alone the surf mags. It was a guaranteed adventure in a little understood country. However, the possibility of finding waves there was in fact quite good. Olivier Servaire did a trip there a few years before and scored it pretty good. Although there were no women on that trip and no obstacle of having to surf with your entire body and head covered in a 30-40°C desert climate!

During the European summer when our swell is quite fickle or even flat for weeks the waves can be incredibly consistent in the Arabian Sea thanks to the Indian monsoon which causes gale force southwest winds to blow non-stop out in the ocean between May and late September. The area we were going to was very remote and much of the time we would be completely alone which might make it a little less challenging having to wear a hijab in the surf. It would be a challenge for any woman but would no doubt make the experience much more interesting. As Marie Curie once said, “Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood”. And I understood so little of this conflicted, misunderstood, former ancient empire and now Islamic Republic of Iran.

TEHRAN

My first day in Iran stripped me of all my assumptions.

The first surprise was the ease of my arrival. I pulled my headscarf tightly around my head, underwear buried at the bottom of my bag, no reading material or books with any depiction of the female body in any form, my passport photo with my uncovered, long blonde locks, my surfboard packed in a camo-print boardbag, a female without a male family companion or husband arriving into Iran, alone. I had imagined all my belongings searched, my tinted lip-balm confiscated. I had expected to cross the threshold into a different frontier.

All my fears were for nothing it seemed. I was waved through immigration with only a cursory glance at my passport, my baggage arrived on time and I walked out of the customs hall with nothing more than some curious glances at my surfboard and into the waiting courtesy bus from the hotel, along with a tourist from America. At the hotel I met my fellow companions, French film-maker Marion, and Ben, a body boarder from Cornwall. Missing from our group was our trip organizer and photographer Stuart Butler. It appeared he’d missed his flight and we would be left to our own devices in a land we knew little about. The adventure had begun.

I felt safe walking down the main streets of Tehran, even the famously dangerous and chaotic traffic of the capital seemed subdued by Ramadan. The one opportunity we had to travel before we lost our swell window happened to land during Ramadan, the Islamic month of fasting where Muslims refrain from eating or drinking from sunrise to sunset. Travellers are exempt from fasting but it does make finding restaurants open and willing to serve food challenging. To escape the heat we went for a walk in one of the many local parks where we met an old shoe-maker, Mohammed, who wanted to practice his fluent English and French with Marion and I. Unbelieving when we tried to explain what it was we hoped to do, find surf in Iran, he showed us a picture in a magazine of a woman surfing asking is that what we do? The surfing world had even filtered into the land-locked capital of the Islamic Republic!

We ate kababs and drank tea sitting on Persian carpets surrounded by young cosmopolitan Tehranis, women in glamorous headscarves perched on beehive hair-dos, wearing tight-fitting belted coats over skinny jeans (a dress code that stays just within the law), and families picnicking in the park after sundown with girls playing volleyball with their fathers and brothers. This place was full of surprise where nothing was quite what it seemed. It’s been a little over 30 years since the revolution, and post-revolution Iran is first and foremost, a theocracy, with Supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei appointed for life, overriding all other authorities. He is regarded by his supporters as being incapable of error, and only answerable to God. For the ordinary people of Iran, family life is supremely important and education (for girls and boys) is highly regarded. Ironically the level of attendance of girls at third-level education has rocketed post-revolution. Women are allowed to vote, drive, buy property, sit in parliament, and to work. In reality though, post-revolutionary Iran also saw women’s right decline in many positions; banned from the judiciary (too emotional) with the imposition of a strict dress code and being treated as second-class citizens under many of the fundamentalist interpretations of Islamic law. But still Iranian women continue to assert their rights and chip away at the oppressive regime—wearing a defiant splash of red lipstick, making visionary movies, becoming experts at interpreting the law, and winning the Nobel Peace Prize.

CHABAHAR, GATEWAY TO IRAN'S SOUTHEASTERN COAST

The next day we took a two-hour flight to the south-eastern coastline, which borders Pakistan, to Iran’s largest ocean port and free-trade zone, Chabahar.

It’s a surprisingly big and developed town on the fringes of Iran in the middle of a desert landscape which is straight out of the Dune series, with a crumbling range of ‘Mars mountains’ and cliffs pock-marked with cave and pinnacles. I pointed in excitement at camel- crossing signs and a herd I saw cruising by the roadside but, as the coming days revealed, they’re the Iranian equivalent of sheep in New Zealand. There used to be camel caravans between all the cities with rest stops every 30 miles for the camels. Women of the house always rode on top of the camel in a special, decorated palanquin while the men had to walk or ride a donkey.

Arriving at Chabahar and we thought we might be camping out in the wilderness, but we pulled up to a three star hotel with sea views. The Iranian tour company were clearly keen to impress their first surf tourists. Arman, our guide, found a ‘Ramadan-free’ restaurant for the less devout as it made communicating with the women very challenging through a male interpreter. Abdullah said most women would not be allowed to speak directly and freely with another man they didn’t know and especially not without a chaperone.

THROUGH THE VEIL

The nature of the coast around southeast Iran means that the local winds are generally light but it catches a good part of the swell breaking primarily on powerful beach breaks with a few potential point-break set-ups.

The boss of the tour company showed us some photos from his recon missions along the coast before our arrival. He explained we had come a little too late, having missed the big swell season at the height of summer when he insists the waves get up to 15 feet. Now it was in the three-foot range and we were going to scour the coast. In the early morning we found a little beach outside Chabahar, not far past a military checkpoint. The wind stayed light and glassy until after 10am, the waves still broke close to shore and were difficult to catch—with very short rides and strong undercurrents—but I felt more comfortable in my custom hijab surfwear today without a crowd watching. I wore a long- sleeved black rashvest, with t-shirt over it. Black boardies with leggings underneath and a lycra hijab made by a Dutch company who design sportswear for Muslim women—I didn’t have to worry about sunburn!

We drove through a strange, alien-like desert wilderness; it was like crossing into Mordor. We found some promising set-ups further east of Chabahar, and further away from the swell shadow of Oman. Here there was a vast stretch of beach backed by sand dunes and the Mars Mountains where the waves seemed to peel along a sandbar. We drove to the most south-eastern point of Iran and stood looking across into Pakistan, with a huge fleet of pretty coloured wooden trawlers lining the harbour below. Fishing is the mainstay along this sparsely populated coastline. Marion stopped to take some footage when our guide and driver started shouting and waving wildly at us, I could see a tail of dust rise up out of the desert and a 4x4 pick-up approaching. We jumped back in the van and the truck passed by without stopping. Arman told us the area is rife with smugglers, you can never be too safe.

We stopped for a picnic in a barren ‘truck-stop’ in a desolate little village. Bob, our driver, and Arman cooked a Persian-style BBQ and we all took shelter from the searing heat under a tree to picnic. I still couldn’t get used to wearing a headscarf in the stifling heat. We sipped pomegranate Iranian beer (non-alcoholic of course) and tried Iran’s famous ‘doogh’ the most refreshing yogurt drink flavoured with mint and salt.

Back in Chabahar, after sundown, we decided to check out the local ‘bazaar’. I was expecting what you usually see in those action-movie chase scenes through middle-eastern markets but this was a western-style shopping mall dominated by cheap Chinese electrical goods and lingerie stores, followed by toy and shoe shops. Families came out in force once the sun was down and people were allowed to eat again. It was definitely more traditional here than the capital. People were still very friendly but there were more stares and a lot more women covered in chadors (full-length black coverings) and some even wearing burqas (full face coverings).

TOO BIG TO FISH... 

Only a few days had passed but already it felt like we’d been here much longer, absorbing so many new experiences every day.

 Our dawn patrol paid off and we scored the most fun surf of the trip at our now regular spot, a surprisingly good sandbar along an empty stretch of beach backed by those stunning Mars Mountains, with fun peaks and some head-high waves. Apart from fishermen passing by on their boats, waving, there was not a soul to be seen. I wondered if we were the first to surf this spot? Later in the afternoon we decided to explore west of Chabahar where there are a series of headlands that show potential for some point-break set-ups. In reality there wasn’t enough swell, but who knows when the Roaring Forties line up briefly in the middle of summer— when the fishermen say the sea is too big to go fish...

We continued to surf ‘our’ beach for the remaining couple of days. The swell stayed a consistent three-to-four feet with light winds, although it felt like the swell was dropping on the last day. During breakfast on the beach, in between surfs, we discussed religion with Arman, whose name means ‘hope’ in Farsi, and is typical of a lot of young, well-educated Iranians from the cities. He says he is not religious and doesn’t actively practice his faith. Unlike Bob, who was kneeling down in prayer facing towards Mecca before he stripped down to his leopard print boxers and decided to go for a dip in the heavy shore-break laughing until the under-tow caught him and pulled him out to sea. Ben paddled out and gave him a lift back to safety on his bodyboard. Despite the language barrier it was clear Bob had loved the experience and we could make a keen waterman out of him yet! Arman says it’s a problem when religion is used as a tool for oppression by those in power, especially to suppress women and blame them for the evils of the world. Despite Iran being a place that celebrates art, creativity and knowledge with a welcoming, warm-hearted people it is still a place where people suffer under an oppressive regime; Arman tells us that you can be sentenced to 75 lashes for being drunk, and be stoned to death for having sex outside of marriage (including rape in many cases). Yet the people are not victims. They are proud, resilient, and hopeful.

Surrounded by the emptiness of the beach and desert it was easy to feel tranquil but we were still out in ‘bandit country’, a place ignored by guidebooks and tourists, very near the Pakistani border where smuggling flourishes.

WATCHFUL EYE

On our way back to Chabahar after our last surf a camo-truck overtook us with a man in a white shirt and rifle slung across his lap and a stern look on his face, waving us to stop.

 They pulled over in front of us, Marion and I could hardly breathe. A military soldier stepped out with him, both fully armed. They came over and shook hands, smiling and chatting to our guide. I let out a big exhalation. It turned out they were our government ‘protection’ and had been keeping an eye on us to ensure our safety, and on our last day they wanted to meet us and say hello. Like I say, nothing is what it seems...

Iran is perhaps most famous amongst travellers for its ancient culture and the stunning art and architecture of its cities. So with the swell weakening and only a few days left we decided to travel inland and visit Shiraz, once the birthplace of the world-famous Shiraz wine. This was Arman’s hometown and he lamented the loss of Shiraz wine-making. He told us when a girl was born to a Shirazi family they made a special pot of wine that they kept until she was married and served it at her wedding.

Our hotel was in a maze of old, twisting alleyways, a traditional Persian-style house with an open courtyard and a cooling fountain in the centre. Shiraz is a city of captivating beauty and vibrant energy and quickly became one of my favourite places in the world. We visited the Citadel and an old bath house, one of Shiraz’s many famous walled gardens, and a maze-like bazaar with vaulted ceilings where I got lost and enjoyed the ancient art of haggling. In the evening we visited the resting place of legendary Sufi poet Hafez, a beautiful memorial to poetry and love called ‘Aramgah’, meaning place of rest, in the heart of Shiraz. Hafez’s poems speak of love, wine and the divine that captures the frailty of human endeavour, the fickle heart and transient nature of all earthly things. His poetry filled the air and there was a fairytale-like quality to the place in the soft evening glow. It was clearly a favourite social gathering place with the local after-work and school crew. I met rebellious tomboy Nasreen and her pretty young friends. A few days with them and I would have picked up Farsi in no time. Nasreen was kitted out in the local football team gear complete with football boots and had just finished practice. One of the girls had a crush on Arman and gave him a rose.

LOOKING BACK...

The next day, my last on all too short a visit, I walked up the same steps as Persian kings Darius and Xerxes and Alexander the Great, to the heart of the once greatest civilization and empire on earth.

A place where records reveal everyone was paid for their work, and there were such things as life insurance and maternity leave. Three kings, 12 palaces, an unfinished ‘gate’ from when Alexander came rampaging through, burning Persepolis to the ground. It’s incredible what still survives today; Giant, detailed sculptures of warriors, lions and bird-gods, 30 foot columns that supported the palace roofs... Full of meaning and symbolism, ancient ‘newspapers’ recording who did what in battle. Built on a huge platform of cut stone rising up out of the desert. All this in 583 BC, over 2500 years ago when the Celts were forging iron and expanding west and north into Ireland and the British Isles.

Before I came to Iran I knew so little. A lack of understanding which gave rise to fear and a perception of Iran through the lens of western media: politics, the oppressive regime, Islamic extremism, axis of evil, generally a violent land and no place for a blonde haired, blue-eyed surfer girl. But there’s two sides to every story isn’t there?

And nothing is quite what it seems. You don’t hear about the people, ordinary people like you and me, in the news. The humanity and heart of the Iranians, their passion and pride for the Persian way of life, descended from the once Greatest Empire on earth. It is a surprising multi-cultural society with a diverse mix of nomadic tribes, religions and nations living together. I came with my own preconceptions too. I thought being a woman here would be very difficult, especially a woman who wanted to surf. When I first arrived in Tehran I found a cosmopolitan vibe and a contemporary city, although since, I have heard there have been further crack-downs with shop owners being ordered to chop the boobs of their plastic mannequins as they are too revealing and a woman’s figure must remain shapeless. Talking with locals and families in the park, girls playing sport with the boys, there was real friendliness and openness towards us strangers, a tolerance for others and happiness that we were visiting their country. They are a social people who love the outdoors (skiing in the mountains, playing in the parks, swimming in the sea), young people smoking hookah and drinking tea or non-alcoholic beer. It is a place full of contrasts. Women rebel in their own way in their fight for equality such as human rights campaigner and lawyer Shirin Edabi and one of the founders of the ‘One Million Signatures’ campaign, who insists that enshrined within Islam are all human rights and all that is needed is more intelligent interpretation. Her hope for Iran’s future lies with women and their powerful social movement, and with young people, over 70% of Iran’s population are under 30.

It’s very unlikely Iran will become the surf destination of the Middle East, especially given the growing political hostilities. However, I wholeheartedly recommend you visit this fascinating land and beautiful people with an open mind and open heart and take in its treasures, while you can. And along the way you may even catch a fun wave or two...

PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED IN SURFGIRL

EASKEY BRITTON


@easkeysurf 


Easkey has surfing in her blood. She comes from Ireland's first surfing family and grew up in Rossnowlagh surfing. Her Mum and Dad taught her to surf when she was 4 years old and her life has revolved around surfing ever since. She got her first taste for travel when she went to Tahiti and became the first Irish person to surf the infamous hell-wave Teahupoo aged just 16 and hasn't looked back since! Ireland's 5 x National Champion she is leading the charge of the next generation of Ireland's surfers taking on the International surf scene. She has done surf-related humanitarian work in Cuba and East Africa, and is also a founding member of Wellcoast.org, a human wellbeing and coastal resilience network.