Shiraz and the Sacrifice of Children... (a little, maybe)

The bus ride was okay. Unfortunately, we couldn't do much despite the VIP reclining seats. Firstly, because we were sitting in the front row, which is not very sleep-friendly, and secondly, because the bus was unexpectedly fast. We reached Shiraz and our hostel around 5:30 am. The receptionist seemed a bit annoyed to have to open the door at such an early hour. But luckily, in Iran, you sit on large carpeted lounging areas, so we were able to take a little nap here.

While all the hostels we stayed in before were relatively empty and quiet, the hostel in Shiraz was like a class reunion. We met almost all the guests from Isfahan here as well. Amelie, with whom we already spent a lot of time in Isfahan, the Dutch couple we met a few days ago for shooting, the German couple we wanted to get to know, the New Zealand surfer guy who had already found a very pretty and nice travel companion here. Everyone was there. Besides them, there were about 100 other travelers. The courtyard was packed during breakfast. It was a bit too much for our sleep-deprived souls and nerves, so we were very happy when we were finally allowed to go to our room and get some rest.

After a short nap, we set off to explore Shiraz. The sun was much hotter than in Isfahan or anywhere else. Our feet were tired and sluggish. But since the "Holy Shrine" was very close to the hostel, I wanted to see it. It took some effort to walk there and required some resistance against Siiri, who wanted to give up and go back to the hostel.

As soon as we arrived at the entrance, someone approached us and asked if we wanted to go inside. Yeah. Then he would get us a guide. No!! We didn't want a guide. Then we wouldn't be allowed in. Offended, we stomped a few steps around the corner and grumbled about what this was all about and how expensive it would be. But then we read that the guide was actually always there and free. Okay then.

A woman with an "International Affairs" sash was assigned to us, who first tied a tourist-friendly knot in the chador under our chins. The chador is basically just a huge cloth that you wrap around your head and body. Among us tourists, it is sometimes derogatorily called a bedsheet or tablecloth. So, wrapping it in a way that allows you to move but doesn't let it fall down is not that easy. While the lady was satisfied with my appearance, she was shocked to see that Siiri's pants ended 15 cm above her ankle. She asked Allah for forgiveness for this "skin flash" and asked Siiri to pay attention to covering her ankles.

Then the very religious woman took us on a tour of the mosque for over an hour and explained everything to us. It was incredible. Very informative (I can still remember some things), very nice and likeable, and finally, we got some explanations about Ashura, the largest and most important Shiite festival that has been ongoing since September 12th and lasts for a whole month of mourning. We were very happy and thanked her many times for the tour. The woman saw this as God's command to her and couldn't resist telling us at the end of our time together that this might be the first step for us to convert to Islam.

Siiri and I have noticed several times how damaged we are from previous trips. We expect to be ripped off, fooled, or harassed around every corner. We say "No, thank you!" before even hearing the offer. After two weeks in Iran, we still haven't learned that things usually (but not always) work differently here. If they say it's free, it's free. When exchanging money, not a single cent is missing. Offers are fair, guides are nice, you only have to say "No" more than once in the case of Tarof.

Back to the daily routine. We spent the hot afternoon at the hostel, where we were waiting for Amelie to join us for dinner in the evening. We had chosen a restaurant that should be veggie-friendly. Just before we were about to start, 9 (nine!!!) backpackers asked if we wanted to join them for dinner. I thought no (nine backpackers are usually nine too many) and said yes. But since Siiri and Amelie didn't want to go either, we managed to escape - even if we didn't score any sympathy points. The evening was really fun. Next day!

This day was also divided into experiencing something in the morning, waiting for the midday heat in the shade, and going out again in the evening.

But the morning started very special for us. Our guide from the Holy Shrine had invited us to be in the mosque at 8 am on this morning to witness a ceremony that is very special for Shiite women.

Some context. In the month of mourning, Muharram, Imam Hussein is commemorated, whose entire family was killed. This includes his six-month-old baby, who was stabbed with an arrow. In memory of this, on this special morning, children under the age of three are dressed in green suits and are lifted into the air by their mothers in the mosque. It has something of a symbolic sacrifice. Instead of Imam Hussein's child, they would give their own babies for the will of God (at least that's how we understood it).

The festival day is also the only day when women are allowed into the main hall of the mosque, where men gather. Including us. It was crazy, intimidating, and impressive. Our guide cried during prayers, and we were also encouraged to pray at the holy shrine. And honestly, I was very close to crying, too.

Impressed and intimidated, we then walked to the pink mosque, whose pictures in the travel guide are more beautiful than reality. But it was still nice, and we had experienced enough for the morning.

We spent the afternoon with the Dutch couple, with whom we became friends and made plans to visit each other. In the evening, we went up a hill again to see the sunset. It was great once again. After that, a garden, funny pictures, dinner, and then it was late already. Every evening in Shiraz, we could observe the Muharram ceremonies. Until the big day, September 21st, there are nightly processions here, in which men walk through the city, symbolically whipping themselves with iron chains. There is a lot of drum music and green illuminated festival decorations. It is interesting and difficult for us to understand. On the one hand, it's a big public festival every evening, but on the other hand, it is a funeral procession. So, it doesn't quite look like enjoyment... or maybe it's not allowed to...

I'll summarize our last day in Shiraz briefly. We got up very early again to go to Persepolis with Amelie and two other girls. It is an ancient city (?), memorial (?), festival site (?) from 500 B.C.

There were stones. It was interesting, but there's not much else to report about it.

Since the afternoon, we sat in the courtyard and vegetated until the next night bus was waiting for us. Tomorrow we are going to Qeshm, an island in the Persian Gulf, where I hope to go diving and where we hopefully quickly get used to the 50 degrees Celsius temperature.