… ‘The level of frustration is growing, I walk covered up from the toes to the top of my head, the sweat is dripping. I keep securing the scarf around my head. I blend in well. I’m trying to take a photo. I’m getting more and more annoyed. I want to remove it, I can’t breathe’ …
On the 21st of September I returned home from Iran. Since I came back, I have heard questions : ‘how was it?’, ‘how was Iran?’, ‘did you have a nice holiday?’, ‘have you climbed the mountains?’ … I struggle to answer these questions, how do I summarise my time in Iran? In one word? In one sentence? Or maybe not at all.
Unfortunately, it is not that easy – I can’t just say yes it was great. My experiences, thoughts and emotions are so much more complex. I feel like words are stuck somewhere inside, wandering restlessly in the fog of my mind. I want to speak, but I’m lacking the words to really express myself. I’m afraid that the moment that I open my mouth I won’t be able to stop talking. Do you want to hear the truth? Are you ready?
Under those circumstances is it important what I have achieved? Is it relevant that I’ve climbed the highest volcano in Asia? Yes, I fulfilled my goal. But in the current situation, it feels almost worthless, it does not seem to have any significance. After all, Mt Damavand was the main reason for my trip to Iran.
On the 16th of September 2022, I celebrated my 41st birthday on the top of the highest volcano in Asia, while a 22-year-old Iranian woman named Mahsa Amini died in the hospital after she was detained and abused by the morality police three days before that. For what reason? Because she didn’t properly cover her hair with a headscarf. There is nothing that can be said to justify it!
My last two days in Iran I spent in Tehran, wandering along the city paths, trying to soak up the atmosphere of the city, culture, smells, people, colours … for the first time during my travels I struggled. On that day, before I left the hostel, I highlighted on the Google map places that I wanted to visit. Most of them were dark tourist spots … the Former US Embassy, Museum of the Qasr public Prison museum, Iran Ebrat Museum, The National Museum of Islamic Revolution & Holy Defense. In the heat, on foot I covered most of the distances between each place of interest. Eventually, I took the metro. Section of the platform designated for women only, the last two carriages, even there women’s space is invaded. (To be honest I’m not into segregation, but if it makes anyone feel safer or better it’s their choice to travel like this).
I’m tired, where is that feeling – usual rush of exploration, I don’t feel it. It’s like I want to learn about the country, culture, I want to see places, hear the stories but on the other hand I just want to hide in the hostel’s garden, remove the scarf, take off the long shirt and just rest. But inside I hear the voice, come on, and explore, you might never come back here again.
How lucky I am, soon I will be back at home. For the first time during my travels I’m counting the hours, I want to go back to Europe, to my freedom. How come? For the first time, the gypsy soul of mine is not screaming.
I wasn’t aware that this country would give me so many contradictory emotions. I travelled open minded, with my usual ‘positive pink glasses on’; I don’t think I was prepared for the emotional rollercoaster.
Before going back home, I met my mountain guide for a coffee. I wanted to thank her and say goodbye. Suddenly, I said: I’m so sorry, I understand how tough it is for you. Soon, I will be back at home. I can remove the scarf, I can bounce freely, I’ve got my life in my hands, I have a choice!’ My mountain guide dreams about traveling to other countries, but for Iranians it is very difficult to get visas to other countries. So far she’s been to Turkey.
People want me to have a nice experience, to feel positive about the country, about them, they crave interaction.
Young psychology student tells me his story. He works at the hostel. He likes his job. Thanks to which he has a chance to meet people from so many different countries, and hear their stories .. He says: ‘ This way I ‘travel around the world’
At the airport I met a girl who is staying in Milan, it was extremely difficult for her to achieve it. She is 20. After a year in Europe she went back to Tehran to visit her family, we spent a month with them. She says that she knows, and her family knows that she won’t be back. But she is sad for her younger sister, who has to obey the rules.
Iran is very strict about everything, from clothing to social interactions. Internet filtering, no clubs, parties, no dancing, no drinking. Everything needs to be done in secret. Iranian authorities continue to repress their own people. Since the Islamic Revolution in 1979 women in Iran (including tourists) are required to wear a head covering, headscarf, hijab and clothes that are hiding their shapes.
Why? Why do we have to hide our bodies? Cover our heads?!
I’m not against the hijab, please don’t take me wrong! But unquestionably, I’m against any force, I’m against not having a choice, I’m against suppression, I’m against violation of human rights.
Where is the freedom of choice, where is equality, dignity, justice and where are the basic human rights??
Women, Life, Freedom
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