Iran
Weeks prior to leaving my London comforts - freedom, my own space, being able to use public transport, the pub - I was unsure that we were ever going to go to Iran. Timetables had been juggled and deadlines shifted to make way for the snails pace our visas and flights were being sorted out. It didn't help that the only thing we heard in the news was the detention of some sailors fuelling multiple phone calls from worried parents, partners and friends.
Four days since being back on olde English soil I've readjusted back to London life again having only really been out to have a girly chat with Sha over a cuppa. I've quite easily lulled back into the rhythm of being in control of what I do, what I see and whom I do it with. Especially since the prior ten days were spent being confused, stressed, amazed, overwhelmed, scared, surprised.. all the emotions of displacement.
I suppose I should really clarify what the purpose of my visit was, seeing as quite often the first question that arises from 'hey, I'm going to Iran.' is 'why?!' So here it is: Every year the students from my course go on a field trip, this year it was to Iran. Simple, no? Then before it is asked, and I have been asked quite a number of times, is that Iran is simply put a country with a rich cultural and historical heritage. Architecturally, perhaps not on the forefront of design and innovation but a place nonetheless littered with countless instances of breathtaking, curious, human space.
We arrived in Tehran after our 6 hour flight from London only to be whisked away on the party van to Hamedan for another 6 hour journey. On-board entertainment of course being the never ending and ear bleeding Iranian pop music that the driver insisted on playing louder than his home made speakers could handle. Little did we know, but those 12 hours of travel/rest were the last hours any peaceful sleep could have been made. Because of course, the following 5 days were spent being volleyed around the city to various sites, horrible sites, full of traffic, pedestrian chaos, dust and generally insensetive architecture. The point being that we were there by invitation from the Hamedan Municipality, who, unlike in England, are the actual guys with the money to spend and build. And build they do. Our role to them, or at least the role we thought we were taking on, was to come up with a few concept ideas (they already had a few other people come in to do the same) in handling these nasty sites.
On the third day, Mr. Zarabian, one of the guys who spoke English fluently said at breakfast:
Z: So, what do you guys think of Hamedan?
Us: -silence- um.
then my tutor steps in with : well, they haven't really seen Hamedan. We've just taken them to the worst places in town.
So... the first few days were spent being completely overwhelmed by the task and time limit on being able to design something half legible, and thinking, MY GOD THIS PLACE SUCKS. While of course, remaining entirely calm, collected and on the whole rather diplomatic if I say so myself. -ahem-
Then they took us site seeing. hurrah!
The gang up in the mountains that surround Hamedan. It was quite surreal seeing the snow on top of the mountains while being down in the city being kebab-ed by the sun. The guy on the right of me is Mr.Ghane, one of the main architects for the municipality. He is young, like the others, yet rebuilding how the entire city is being read. In fact, the architects we met were all around the 30 year old mark and younger. And successful too. There was none of this oh you haven't hit 40 yet, so anything you say is just rubbish, rubbish. As students, we were taken seriously, and our designs actually heard out. Which is such a rarity since when you present here its not so unusual for someone on the crit panel be on his phone, eating her lunch, swigging whisky (okay, I wasn't actually there for that one), changing the batteries to their hearing aid (I was there for this one).. and generally not interested in anything you have to say.
Okay, so Iranian cuisine perhaps isn't my choice of food most nights of the week, but when you begin working around going for lunch and dinner at 10pm, it becomes unavoidable. The choice remained limited while we were out there - generally either kebab or fried fish - so mealtimes weren't really about the food. Still, from the photo, looks good eh?
Some random shot in a bazaar in Hamedan I took while on site visit. The lighting in the bazaars was beautiful, if even to light up some old sacks and polystyrene strips.
The view from Bidan Imam or Imam Square along Bu-Ali Sina Road into the mountains.
My tutor presenting our designs to the mayor, governor general, their deputies and the municipality. We would have done the presenting ourselves only I think the translator would have had a hard time, and we would have been there until 3am instead of 12!
Okay, so the shot isn't great, but we went to a sea cave in the mountains and the boat was rocky!
Another shot from inside the bazaar in Hamedan.
Almost everyone I met asked me what I thought of Iran. I wasn't going to lie, so I said that it wasn't how I expected it to be. Having been to Saudi with my parents a few times, I thought I was quite prepared in going to a strict Islamic state. However, I don't think things couldn't have been more different. The interaction between men and women for instance. While in Saudi the men are usually the ones to move around first, with us women trailing in the back or sitting in completely different places however in Iran this wasn't the case. The men we were with always allowed the women to go first, sit down first, held open doors for us and in a few cases served us as well. And those were the small things.
On the flip side, it seemed that the common view of 'the west' was as distorted if not more than the common view of Iran. It seemed that London was 'a jungle' with men and women frolicking in the streets being bad bad people. It also seemed that the problems in England and the US were due to alchohol which induced mental illness. These of course, were isolated instances and I seriously doubt everyone could be tainted with the same brush.
I doubt the ten days I spent allowed me to soak up the real Iran but this was as far as I got. Having bypassed the trips to Masouleh and Esfahan due to time constraints also has given me the perfect excuse to go back. xxw
Four days since being back on olde English soil I've readjusted back to London life again having only really been out to have a girly chat with Sha over a cuppa. I've quite easily lulled back into the rhythm of being in control of what I do, what I see and whom I do it with. Especially since the prior ten days were spent being confused, stressed, amazed, overwhelmed, scared, surprised.. all the emotions of displacement.
I suppose I should really clarify what the purpose of my visit was, seeing as quite often the first question that arises from 'hey, I'm going to Iran.' is 'why?!' So here it is: Every year the students from my course go on a field trip, this year it was to Iran. Simple, no? Then before it is asked, and I have been asked quite a number of times, is that Iran is simply put a country with a rich cultural and historical heritage. Architecturally, perhaps not on the forefront of design and innovation but a place nonetheless littered with countless instances of breathtaking, curious, human space.
We arrived in Tehran after our 6 hour flight from London only to be whisked away on the party van to Hamedan for another 6 hour journey. On-board entertainment of course being the never ending and ear bleeding Iranian pop music that the driver insisted on playing louder than his home made speakers could handle. Little did we know, but those 12 hours of travel/rest were the last hours any peaceful sleep could have been made. Because of course, the following 5 days were spent being volleyed around the city to various sites, horrible sites, full of traffic, pedestrian chaos, dust and generally insensetive architecture. The point being that we were there by invitation from the Hamedan Municipality, who, unlike in England, are the actual guys with the money to spend and build. And build they do. Our role to them, or at least the role we thought we were taking on, was to come up with a few concept ideas (they already had a few other people come in to do the same) in handling these nasty sites.
On the third day, Mr. Zarabian, one of the guys who spoke English fluently said at breakfast:
Z: So, what do you guys think of Hamedan?
Us: -silence- um.
then my tutor steps in with : well, they haven't really seen Hamedan. We've just taken them to the worst places in town.
So... the first few days were spent being completely overwhelmed by the task and time limit on being able to design something half legible, and thinking, MY GOD THIS PLACE SUCKS. While of course, remaining entirely calm, collected and on the whole rather diplomatic if I say so myself. -ahem-
Then they took us site seeing. hurrah!
The gang up in the mountains that surround Hamedan. It was quite surreal seeing the snow on top of the mountains while being down in the city being kebab-ed by the sun. The guy on the right of me is Mr.Ghane, one of the main architects for the municipality. He is young, like the others, yet rebuilding how the entire city is being read. In fact, the architects we met were all around the 30 year old mark and younger. And successful too. There was none of this oh you haven't hit 40 yet, so anything you say is just rubbish, rubbish. As students, we were taken seriously, and our designs actually heard out. Which is such a rarity since when you present here its not so unusual for someone on the crit panel be on his phone, eating her lunch, swigging whisky (okay, I wasn't actually there for that one), changing the batteries to their hearing aid (I was there for this one).. and generally not interested in anything you have to say. 
Okay, so Iranian cuisine perhaps isn't my choice of food most nights of the week, but when you begin working around going for lunch and dinner at 10pm, it becomes unavoidable. The choice remained limited while we were out there - generally either kebab or fried fish - so mealtimes weren't really about the food. Still, from the photo, looks good eh?
Some random shot in a bazaar in Hamedan I took while on site visit. The lighting in the bazaars was beautiful, if even to light up some old sacks and polystyrene strips.
The view from Bidan Imam or Imam Square along Bu-Ali Sina Road into the mountains. 
My tutor presenting our designs to the mayor, governor general, their deputies and the municipality. We would have done the presenting ourselves only I think the translator would have had a hard time, and we would have been there until 3am instead of 12!
Okay, so the shot isn't great, but we went to a sea cave in the mountains and the boat was rocky! 
Another shot from inside the bazaar in Hamedan.Almost everyone I met asked me what I thought of Iran. I wasn't going to lie, so I said that it wasn't how I expected it to be. Having been to Saudi with my parents a few times, I thought I was quite prepared in going to a strict Islamic state. However, I don't think things couldn't have been more different. The interaction between men and women for instance. While in Saudi the men are usually the ones to move around first, with us women trailing in the back or sitting in completely different places however in Iran this wasn't the case. The men we were with always allowed the women to go first, sit down first, held open doors for us and in a few cases served us as well. And those were the small things.
On the flip side, it seemed that the common view of 'the west' was as distorted if not more than the common view of Iran. It seemed that London was 'a jungle' with men and women frolicking in the streets being bad bad people. It also seemed that the problems in England and the US were due to alchohol which induced mental illness. These of course, were isolated instances and I seriously doubt everyone could be tainted with the same brush.
I doubt the ten days I spent allowed me to soak up the real Iran but this was as far as I got. Having bypassed the trips to Masouleh and Esfahan due to time constraints also has given me the perfect excuse to go back. xxw
Labels: Iran
posted by Widarchitect at 9:54 am
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