Showing posts with label hospitality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hospitality. Show all posts

Friday, 29 January 2010

Iranian De-dash


I'd been in Tehran for a week or so and I decided to hop on an overnight train to Mashad. The journey took me trough the bleak desert of central Iran, and onwards to the north-eastern region of the country, close to Turkmenistan.
The moment I found my cabin on the train I greeted my fellow travelers 'salam aleikum'. They soon discovered that my Farsi wasn't great and that I was not Iranian.

We laughed and joked in bits of languages we all had in common and watched the sun set on the minus 18 degree dust rolling past the window.
We arrived in Mashad to heavy snow and yet colder temperatures when Mortezza insisted that I stay at his house. I went home with him, we lit a fire and smoked cigarettes before sleeping.
Little was I to know that we would spend the next two weeks together. We visited some of his friends and he showed me the sights of the city, including an amazing mosque complex covered in mirrors and glass. After constant hospitality and generosity we went back to Tehran.
I stayed with Mortezza and his friends in Tehran for a couple of days, mostly taking high speed tours around the city's icy streets on a motorcycle.
We left each other at the train station as I headed further south. I gave him some gifts and got on the train.

Damit garm de-dash. Khoob-est ti?

Friday, 15 January 2010

Two farmers in the desert.



I once owned a camel. A beautiful dromedary camel called Alfie. I rode him from his home in Palmyra (Todmor in Arabic) to Damascus.

After a couple of weeks I met these two young shepherds with their flock in the desert.
I made them tea on my gas burner, and as dusk drew nearer we walked to their farm, past a few hills in a nearby valley.
The walk made me smile because it was something reminiscent of the tale of Noah and his ark. Three men, a camel, a donkey, a flock of sheep, a couple of goats, all followed by the sheepdogs.
A feast was made by Amir's mother, followed by a shisha pipe with his father.

That night curiosity, generosity, intrigue and friendship all followed us into their Bedouin home.
Syrian desert October/November 2007

About Me

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I am using this blog as a space to tell the stories of the people I have met; some photographed, some not. I'm a photojournalist covering a range of topics through my work.