We are out all day today, but the sisters have joined us again, and they add some much needed positive energy and (sadly) aid to our ragtag group. We set out in our bus early in the day, but I'm able to catch the movie star head waiter's eye during breakfast to say hello. My traveling companions are jealous.
I've taken to calling our bright orange bus The God Bus. I'll give it this, it is easy to spot in a crowd. How can anyone miss the "ONLY GOD" and "MY HEART YOU WANT" on the windshield?
On the way, we have to stop at the police checkpoint. This is a common thing here. The driver has to show that he wasn't speeding, and I suspect he needs to tell them who is on the bus. I'll hear the word "American" mentioned a few times. There are many other trucks stopped as well, and we spot a cowgirl tailgate that is begging to be photographed. Everyone gets the zoom lenses out and tries to take it through the window, but in the immortal words of my very first photography teacher, "Move your ass to get the shot, Jilly, don't rely on the lens." So I hop off the bus as the guide calls out, "No picture of the police!" to get my shot.
We arrive at the Rayen Citadel, which dates back to the 5th century. It basically acted as a small city. The most important part for me is the interesting architecture. It is a fun place to photograph.
The next stop is in Mahan, at the lovely and impressive Shahzadeh Garden. Filled with the long straight channels of running water, we find families panicking just outside the garden entrance. They are chatting, drinking tea and starring at the Americans. We camp out near a family to have our own tea, and the man tries to impress his wife and mother with his English. He says, "Hello, how are you?" And I reply, "Fine, and you?" And the women burst into giggles. The man asks our guide what religion we are, and Ariya intervenes, telling him that it is a personal matter and that he should not ask such personal questions. He takes it in stride and introduces us to his family, including a new baby.
The gardens themselves are full of blooms, big symmetrical blue pools of water flowing into one another and fountains. The sides of the walkway are shaded by large trees, and that combined with the water makes for a cool, refreshing atmosphere. Families stroll around, couples casually sit and chat. I spot a little boy sitting by himself. His whole family joins us to talk. His mother discovers we are Americans and says, "You are the first real one I've seen!" Her husband starts taking pictures, and eventually we sit down and pose. It is a sweet moment, and it feels good to be a friendly representative of America. We don't always have the best reputation in the world, so this makes us seem human.
In my wanders around the garden, I discovered there was what looked like a wannabe Iranian boy band roaming the gardens. They were young, handsome, hipsters who could not get enough selfies. They were posing over the running water, lying on the ground in a carefully constructed casual heap. And they loved having an audience.
We lunch in Mahan, then visit the the shrine of Shah Nematollah Vali. He is one of the most prominent Persian Sufis. His shrine is full of interesting art, and while people were being reverent, there was a lot of curiosity about us. One young man approached and pointed out a portrait of Ali's name. He said that Ali is the best man, the first Imam, and that Shah Nematollah Vali was a follower of Ali, and that made him great in return. He said it was nice to meet Americans, because "Iranians are hated all over the world," and I corrected him and said that Iranians aren't hated, we just don't know each well enough, and that it is our governments that have problems, but that we don't hate Iranians themselves. He seemed glad to hear that I thought that at least.
"I beheld my essence. What I saw
Was like the very light of the eye itself:
How wonderful that a single Essence should
Refract itself like a light, a single source
Into a million essences and hues."
- Shah Nematollah Vali
There is an inner chamber in the shrine where he would sit and just contemplate God and science. The inner chamber was magnificently restored after a flood, but the essence is certainly there.
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