The plan was to spend a week in the motherland, exploring Tehran, meeting long-lost relatives, maybe even debunking some cultural stereotypes (hello, neocons). "), and where my compulsive tendency to knock on wood would be inherently understood (Now, after twenty-seven years of wondering what my motherland is like, I'm sitting in a plane somewhere over Turkey, headed for Tehran.Then the election happened, and things changed I have dedicated uncountable hours to wondering what it would be like to go to Iran. My dad has come with me, because without his superior Farsi and guidance, I'd feel more like a tourist than I'd care to.
A table for two at a garden restaurant in Florence.He spends most of the flight fidgeting, moving his footrest down, then up, then down again.Every hour or so, he emits the kind of deep sigh that isn't really intended for him but is more a signal to the rest of us that he's been on better flights. If you have never been to Iran, don’t judge it by the political see-saw you grasp from the news. Young locals enjoy talking about house parties, secret dating places and second citizenships; the older generation recall their happy student times back in the US.Yes, at this point in history, Iran is governed by a clan of spooky moralists with – as it appears to me from what I saw – a rather corrupt bureaucracy below them that is hypocritical beyond belief But what they do not manage to stifle is a modern, 21st-century, open-minded, unprejudiced, hospitable, warm and cultured population that loves the world and its people. What I have heard and seen there was completely contrary to popular perception.