Learning to dance to the rhythm of life

Arriving into Iran was pretty scary. I’d made frantic preparations even before getting my exit visa stamped on the Armenian side of the tiny land border. I’d scrutinized my headscarf, made sure that no stray wisp of hair had escaped and not even the tiniest sliver of flesh was on display.

Fast forward several weeks and I found myself taking a trip with 30 fun loving Iranians. I’d crashed an annual social meeting held between young at heart Iranians from across the huge country, organized through the internet – an essential tool for Iranians to meet and communicate with each other in a country where friendships between non-related individuals are almost impossible to propagate.

As we careered around the South East of Iran, taking in touristic sights along the way in a privately-hired coach I was treated to unexpected on-board entertainment. The curtains of the bus were closed, not even a chink open, the coach stereo was blasting out party tunes and the hijabs were on or off at their owners’ choice. Limbs were moving seductively to the music – mixing traditional Iranian music with contemporary beats - in such a way that you wouldn’t have guessed that dancing was banned. The girls tried patiently to teach me to dance like an Iranian woman. Their efforts were thwarted not only by my two left feet but also by the movement of the bus as the driver maneuvered the crazy traffic, something which didn’t seem to affect my graceful Iranian counterparts.

“Shh!” The message came from the front of the bus. “Police check!” The bus became a frantic flurry of activity as hijabs were thrown back on, curtains hastily pushed open and music switched off for the check. Somber, serious masks replaced carefree smiles. This was clearly a familiar drill. As soon as the police were out of sight, cheering commenced and the party resumed.

Iranians truly have two faces – one for the outside world and one for themselves, to be shared with whom they choose.