Rumi had it right. Swim out of your little pond, indeed!
I had an idea of how big the world was, but I didn't know that I could participate in the discovery of it. Once I figured that out, all bets were off.
Since then, I've been a traveling fiend.
I want this blog to reflect where I'm going, where I am, but also where I've been.
A reflection of my progress as a traveler and a photographer.
So in the next few weeks, my goal is to post my photographs and write briefly about my memories of the very different places I've visited in the last two years. I used to make beautiful photo albums of my travels, but since I started focusing on more "doing it now" and less "remembering it then," I've given up on the albums and need a place to house these memories. This is that place.
It started with Iran in 2011. That was where I met people who had seen big pieces of the world, and who encouraged me to see more. People who told me, "Just go!"
Abdi Sami took us there, and when we came back, he taught me about poetry, the human spirit, and how to die without letting the light go out.
His business card read "Travel as a source of joy."
That trip in 2011 included a visit to Tehran, Yazd, Shiraz, Persepolis, Esfahan, Abyaneh and Kashan.
We saw the tombs of Iran's greatest poets, Hafez and Sa'adi. Iranians celebrate their poets with pilgrimages to these mausoleums and gardens.
Shiraz, the city of roses and nightingales. Where a glass of wine would have been perfect in the warm evening...but where tea would have to do.
We saw the tomb of Cyrus.
Persepolis.
I went to a Zoroastrian temple and saw the spot where vultures used to dispose of dead bodies for believers who did not want to desecrate the earth with their human remains.
In Abyaneh I heard a bird say, "Salam! Salam!"
Esfahan. A magical bridge, with songs being sung...
Iranians wanted to talk to us, and we wanted to talk to them. That one-on-one connection that can break down barriers imposed by governments - both theirs and ours.
I learned what it meant to hide your hair and your body from everyone. Where going onto your own hotel room balcony without a hair covering was forbidden. Every time there was a knock at the door, the desperate grab for the scarf, the stares when any woman in our group experienced "hijab slippage."
It was here that I learned the difference between Shia and Sunni.
Between vacation and travel.
Some of my favorite books about Iran:
"Persepolis" by Marjane Satrapi
"Reading Lolita in Tehran" by Azar Nafisi
"All the Shah's Men" by Stephen Kinzer
"Neither East Nor West: One Woman's Journey Through the Islamic Republic of Iran" by Christiane Bird
"Guests of the Ayatollah" by Mark Bowden
Next up: Spain, November 2011
I had an idea of how big the world was, but I didn't know that I could participate in the discovery of it. Once I figured that out, all bets were off.
Since then, I've been a traveling fiend.
I want this blog to reflect where I'm going, where I am, but also where I've been.
A reflection of my progress as a traveler and a photographer.
So in the next few weeks, my goal is to post my photographs and write briefly about my memories of the very different places I've visited in the last two years. I used to make beautiful photo albums of my travels, but since I started focusing on more "doing it now" and less "remembering it then," I've given up on the albums and need a place to house these memories. This is that place.
It started with Iran in 2011. That was where I met people who had seen big pieces of the world, and who encouraged me to see more. People who told me, "Just go!"
Abdi Sami took us there, and when we came back, he taught me about poetry, the human spirit, and how to die without letting the light go out.
His business card read "Travel as a source of joy."
That trip in 2011 included a visit to Tehran, Yazd, Shiraz, Persepolis, Esfahan, Abyaneh and Kashan.
We saw the tombs of Iran's greatest poets, Hafez and Sa'adi. Iranians celebrate their poets with pilgrimages to these mausoleums and gardens.
Shiraz, the city of roses and nightingales. Where a glass of wine would have been perfect in the warm evening...but where tea would have to do.
We saw the tomb of Cyrus.
Persepolis.
I went to a Zoroastrian temple and saw the spot where vultures used to dispose of dead bodies for believers who did not want to desecrate the earth with their human remains.
In Abyaneh I heard a bird say, "Salam! Salam!"
Esfahan. A magical bridge, with songs being sung...
Iranians wanted to talk to us, and we wanted to talk to them. That one-on-one connection that can break down barriers imposed by governments - both theirs and ours.
I learned what it meant to hide your hair and your body from everyone. Where going onto your own hotel room balcony without a hair covering was forbidden. Every time there was a knock at the door, the desperate grab for the scarf, the stares when any woman in our group experienced "hijab slippage."
It was here that I learned the difference between Shia and Sunni.
Between vacation and travel.
Some of my favorite books about Iran:
"Persepolis" by Marjane Satrapi
"Reading Lolita in Tehran" by Azar Nafisi
"All the Shah's Men" by Stephen Kinzer
"Neither East Nor West: One Woman's Journey Through the Islamic Republic of Iran" by Christiane Bird
"Guests of the Ayatollah" by Mark Bowden
Next up: Spain, November 2011
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