Na’in & the end of the Persian Journey
We drove from Yazd to Isfahan via Chak Chak and Na’in. Chak Chak was a remarkable site as it is a testament to the power of nature to transform itself. I wrote about Chak Chak in the Rey blog, so I won’t repeat myself here, other than to say it is simply amazing what a little water will do.
Na’in has some disintegrating mud brick fortress and citadel walls, an interesting mosque, and fascinating craftsmen. The town is known for its wool cloaks and carpets and we stopped at an old shop. The shop itself is in a cave-like setting as are the others around it; they are said to be about a 1,000 years old. The craftsmen make traditional camel and sheep wool cloaks for shepherds and nomads, as well as special small cream and blue colored patterned circular carpets that are a about 15 inches in diameter. They make them on the traditional looms, and the fellow who was showing us his craft was working on his grandfather’s loom, which was over 200 years old. His grandfather worked in the shop until he was over 100. As the light was bad and the stairs were rough, the grandson (who is probably in his 60s) added a metal railing on the stairs and electricity for lightbulbs in the cave shop a few years ago. He was a delightful craftsman who explained that the art is dying out, although he is teaching his son and nephew how to carry on the tradition. Nowadays, even he only works at the shop on weekends, as he has to maintain another job to support the family. He keeps the shop as a labor of love. He told us that 20 years ago there were over 40 weavers, now there are just 4. It is the end of a tradition and an era. I was very glad to have had the opportunity to get this glimpse into the Iranian past-present that gets hidden from the normal big bus tourist route.
Isfahan is huge city, and the river that runs through it actually did have water, not like the one in Shiraz or many of the other places Amir has guided me through. The main square in Isfahan, Naqsh-e Jahan Sq. is perhaps the city’s most famous icon. It is second only to Tiananmen in size. It was built in the early 1600s by Shah Abbas of the Safavid dynasty, who wanted to showcase some of the architectural masterpieces of his era. Around the square are the Royal Residence, the famous blue-tiled Masjed –e Shah mosque (which uses both mosaic and painted tiles on the facades and iwans), the Masjed-e Lotfollah mosque (that does not have a minaret as it was for the royal family’s personal use & while it faces the square, the actual mosque is at an angle so that it can face Mecca), the bazaar and a bit further to the north the Jameh Mosque, the largest in Iran. Each of these structures is well preserved, with the mosques and bazaars still active and the royal residence nicely renovated. Behind the square is a large park area with a Safavid era pleasure place with 20 pillars although it is named Chehel Sotun, which indicates 40 pillars. As the twenty reflect in the pool in front of the building together, the real and the illusionary, make forty.
A car drive away from the main square are some Armenian churches with incredible frescos. When Shah Abbas wanted to build his new city he made the craftsmen from Jolfe, near the modern day Azerbaijan border, move to the new site in the desert. They brought with them their Christian faith and the churches are a testament to both their craftsmanship as well as their dedication to their religion. The frescos cover the entire interior from floor to ceiling telling stories from both the old and new testaments. The only hint that one is in Isfahan and not Armenia, are the beautiful carpets that cover the altar area.
While walking through the bazaar, I stopped to get an ice cream. As I was enjoying the treat, a couple of young men asked me where I came from and we started a conversation. One of them had studied Mechanical Engineering at MIT and the other Architecture at George Washington. They both had the ability to stay in the States, but have chosen to return to see whether they can help their country improve economically over the next few years. They had great ideas, and I can only hope they will succeed. There is a lot of hope in the younger generation here, which I don’t really see with us.
From Isfahan we drove across more desert – there is a lot of it in this country! – to Kashan by way of Abyaneh, a small now touristy village with a forgotten Mithra/Anahita cave.
Our last stop was in Kashan, which is a very traditional city. Even the little girls were wearing chadors. We visited a couple of the almost 200 year old traditional houses, a beautiful hamman, the main mosque and the world heritage Fin Garden, all of which were interesting, but all of which paled in comparison to the stories from the Na’in craftsman.
From Kashan, Amir drove me to the airport in the middle of the night for a 6:35 flight back to Turkey. Altogether, Amir had driven me over 6,000 km around the country and I had driven probably another 600 with my other two guides in 20 days. It was a very packed intensive tour. What I found were simply amazingly hospitable people who go out of their way to help strangers, fascinating archeological sites, beautiful mosques and Islamic structures from different periods, places where time has stopped and others where time has obliterated the past, places of natural beauty and huge expanses of nothing but sand. It is a land of contrasts, a land with a youth that is motivated to learn and hopeful for the future. It is a country where the people rely on themselves and each other and try as much as possible to ignore the government. While the country is a theocracy, the people, especially the young, are increasingly secularly oriented, which proves once again that dictating religious practice rarely makes people actually believe the doctrines. It is a mosaic that radiates light while it pulls it back in. I am very grateful to all the people I met who made this journey so very rich, especially Laleh from irun2iran.com agency (& yes, I highly recommend them!), Amir, my new friend and teacher, Nilufar for showing me a woman’s perspective, and little Amir and his mother in Abahkur for just being themselves. Thank you all!
