2018 Iran Travel Notes

In fact, there are many things you don’t know about Iran, but now let’s learn about Iran through this travelogue. You can follow the editor to see this place. Is this the place you have in mind?

Muhammad woke me up at seven o'clock in the morning. After washing, he took me to the road outside and took a car to their school.

The school is not big, and some places are covered with weeds or rubble. Although it's a university, it doesn't look like my elementary school. My arrival naturally became the focus of the school, and my classmates always asked questions about Muhammad. Mohammed said his teacher was good at English and took me to school to see if the teacher could apply for a passport for me. He brought me into the office and we talked for a few minutes. I knew that his teacher’s English was not good and he had no idea about my passport.

Out of the office, Muhammad took me into the classroom. The classroom is very small, with about fifteen or six people sitting in it, all of them boys. There is a small blackboard in front of the classroom.

After a while, a tall and thin teacher walked into the classroom and began to teach. This is an advanced mathematics course. The students seemed to have no textbooks. They all had sixteen open notebooks and wrote down key points of knowledge and exercises in them. The teacher first drew a complex figure on the blackboard, then began to explain it and occasionally asked some questions. The students took notes meticulously, and I felt like I was back in a high school classroom. The atmosphere in the class was lively, and everyone was eager to answer questions and full of curiosity. This is a calculus problem mixed with a bit of linear algebra. I haven’t completely forgotten it, I just didn’t fully understand it because of the language barrier. However, in order to maintain the good international image of Chinese international students who are diligent and studious, I insisted on not yawning, and occasionally responded with a knowing smile, which brought the excellent quality of Chinese international students to the extreme in pretending to understand.

The get out of class is finally over. According to yesterday’s plan, I was going to Bam Castle. Muhammad had one class, and he asked Sanwa (the sturdy young man who smoked a pipe with me last night) to accompany me.

I said goodbye to Muhammad and thanked him for taking care of me. Since then, my contact with him has been limited to likes and comments on Facebook. His English is limited, except for those modal particles. Later I found out that he learned "I love you" again.

He said "I love you" to me. I really want to tell him that "I love you" really can't be used easily between two grown men, but I think it will be difficult to explain. It would be nice to understand his thinking. He said he would learn English well.

Sanwa took me to Bam Ancient Castle by taxi. She didn't let me pay the fare and bought the ticket for me. Bagu Castle charges 150,000 riyals for foreigners, while locals only need 20,000 riyals. I was really embarrassed to let him buy it, so I forced myself to pay for it.

This is the largest air-dried adobe building in the world, with a history of 2,500 years. Unfortunately, it was destroyed by an earthquake in 2003, which killed nearly 30,000 people. It is now uninhabited. Walking through the vaguely identifiable streets and yards, the broken walls around me are embarrassing.

After visiting the ancient castle, I treated Sanwa to an ice cream, and he took me to take a taxi back to Kerman. It is about 180 kilometers from Bam to Kerman and costs 110,000 riyals (approximately RMB 22). The taxi was stopped twice but no one checked my passport.

After lunch in Kerman, I went to the station and bought a ticket back to Tehran. While waiting for the bus at the station, I once again became the focus of the people around me. There was a handsome guy sitting in front of me with three or four women. He turned to talk to me and asked for a photo. I agreed to his request. While taking the photo, he blew me a kiss but didn't touch my face.

This attracted a police officer (or station security). My heart was pounding, and I had a premonition that something was going to happen. Sure enough, he asked me to show my passport. I told him I only had a copy, but he only recognized the original. He ignored the explanation for a long time.

I am at the end of my wits and talent, so I let him take me away. Like a criminal caught red-handed, I was led into an office in full view of everyone. I explained a few words to the people inside and they understood. Then one of them said a few words to the police, and the police let me go. After being acquitted, I flew back to my seat like a free bird. People around me seemed sympathetic, but they stopped taking pictures of me.

The bus back to Tehran is a white Volvo bus with very comfortable seats. I originally planned to have a good sleep, but as it approached twelve o'clock in the evening, I ran into big trouble.

When I arrived at a checkpoint, a policeman got on the bus and asked for my passport. I could only give him a copy of the first page of my passport and the Iranian visa page. He didn't speak English and I couldn't explain it, so he was taken off the bus.

It's cold outside. I was taken to the checkpoint hut. There was an electric stove in the hut, and the people inside came out. I tried to explain to him, I made a futile speech to those two men, and I ended up pleading with them. They are hard-hearted and indifferent.

Many minutes passed and I saw that the Volvo bus carrying all my luggage had started. I pointed anxiously at the white moving object and almost jumped. They reassured me and told me the driver just drove over and parked on the side of the road. Sure enough, the car stopped.

However, I still feel that I am in something big, and if I am considered a spy, it will be the end.

After another laborious exchange, I finally understood that although I had copied the first page and visa page of my passport, but not the renewal page, they would think I was staying illegally.

Someone in the room picked up the phone, maybe to check my records, or to ask for instructions from a superior. I waited anxiously. Half an hour passed and they finally told me it was a misunderstanding.

I quickly rushed to the car and apologized for my delay. They sat quietly without any complaints. If this kind of thing happened in China, I really don’t know what would happen.

After sitting down, a few young people next to me chatted with me about what had just happened, and then took me to take pictures. Halfway to the toilet, an uncle in the car called me aside and warned me to be careful of those young people.

"They make friends with you first, and then steal your money." The uncle told me seriously, it didn't sound like a joke.

I miss my uncle so much, but I am still grateful for his kindness. Among these young people, Amin Rahim is the youngest. Later, when I was in Jordan, I also received a Skype video from him. He asked me if I was still in Iran. His family wanted me to be their guest.