Monica Scaccabarozzi

IRAN will find an answer ... beyond the veil ...

August 2019

Arrival in Tehran and I am already at home!

Quick and easy painless journey!

Preparation of the journey not so simple (at the time ... but today it would be really trivial !!!) .. all because of a truly remarkable, sad and reprehensible fact ... the prejudice, the preconception!
Preparing for a trip like this requires attention!

Undoubtedly wearing tank tops is not possible, only veils and long sleeves .. and should this be a problem? if I think about it today I feel stupid just to have thought of it!
Islam is a monotheistic religion while the Muslim term indicates what is relevant to Islam. The Muslim noun - which identifies a person who follows the Islamic religion, "devoted to God" or "subject to God" - derives from the Arabic verbal name muslim, meaning "subject (to God)". In Persian (the one spoken in Iran) the noun is identical to Arabic.

The root of reference is salam, which expresses the concept of "save, pacify".

A necessary explanation, because even in Italy this is clear in Europe!

These words Islamic and Muslim, frighten many, many, too many people who do not even know what the values ​​of Islam are!
Nobody knows anything about this country, on the contrary, it is known only for what we hear from the news, from the press ... from the false information that comes to us!
How much ignorance that circulates around what you don't want to know, prejudice and ignorance will kill this world, the human race will die out and maybe ... this is not a bad thing.
I see in all this, but a principle of new life!

Well sorry, returning to the preparation of the trip, I immediately remember this was the year of Trump's madness ... the year of the supremacy of human stupidity.

Donald Trump strangles the Iranian economy with its sanctions, it collects the demolition of a US drone and sends hundreds of soldiers to neighboring Saudi Arabia, liquidates the capture of seventeen CIA spies in Tehran as false, but continues to repeat that he does not wage a war with Iran wants.

And misses the name of the supreme guide speaking of Khomeini, who died in the 1989.

And Israel, one step further, has reason to be more alarmed than it has ever done. Maybe he should talk to Trump too.

It seems to be on the eve of the First world war, in the time when everyone denied it. The declaration of the Embargo ...
How long can an exercise of provocations at the limit endure… .the war explosion like the one that has been going on for months in the Persian Gulf?

I will find an answer only by going to Iran.

Every journey I seek and organize, really brings suggestions, interpretations ... I can see things from a different point of view and suddenly lighten up!

Every journey reveals something to me.

In this country, with the exception of the big cities, which by now have similar connotations to any other city, I discover how traveling along large sections by car, for days, below, the roads are surrounded by arid and inhospitable deserts, roads that do not seem to lead to nothing.

Here my father is ecstatic and admires the salty desert in front of him.

Seas of sand, salty deserts, barren mountains, dry and torrid borders.

Behind the windows of the car, this arid film runs inexorably, suddenly, spectacular scenery rich in vegetation opens up, so luxuriant as to disorientate me and make me lose the sense of belonging or, incredibly, huge squares open up with mosques that take away the breath, an architecture so equally dazzling, blue domes and the minarets that defy the sky and decree their unquestionable capacity and human ability; the crowded bazaars of people, which move like waves in the midst of a rough sea.

These incredible modifications really make me reflect on life; roads that I walk and that do not lead me to anything, aikido, zen, the study of Chinese, calligraphy, perhaps this is the meaning of the much-felt Japanese mu-shutoku? (Trad.Senza purpose?)?

Walk the streets and never arrive, but along the way enjoy the journey and appreciate how, despite the difficulties, the aridity (mostly human) that I encounter along my life path, there are moments in which it is possible to enjoy an oasis, fresh and welcoming. These moments are really moments of suspension, before leaving. Continue, always through difficulties.

The road changes constantly, life changes constantly. The path to the discovery of the self is not a straight line towards paradise, but tortuous, so said Tsuda Sensei.

All this and more comes to mind when I think back to two moments, one of which was when we went to the Das-E Luth. How to go to hell and then come back!

Here my father and I in one of the most beautiful flies, the "pink" mosque.

Dash and Lut is a desert where the wind is so strong and the temperatures so high, that you must be absolutely well rooted to the ground so as not to be carried away by the very hot wind and the second moment was when we visited an outpost, in full sterile desert; the caravanserai in which Marco Polo

has found refreshment (I have already crossed the path of Marco Polo several times during my journeys and it is always a great emotion to think that He was exactly where I was !!)
In the desert of Das E Luth I really felt in that hot but immovable breath; the wind didn't move, my back was straight and my shoulders were open. I felt the wind on my skin (the little that was uncovered) and my clothes
that adhered to my body because they were pressed by the power of the wind and on the other side of my silhouette I felt the same clothes whipping me with violence. The veil tried to whirl freely.
In a moment, I feel a sensation that I had ignored up to that point, the feeling of freedom that pervades me is inexplicable; I am the center of my needs, I must learn to no longer have any conditioning, no dependence or restriction, not even by myself. That free wind made me realize that no one can or should harness you.

I further elaborate this thought, while I see the sand blown by the wind in a small tornado, they are born and die continuously at an impressive speed, free. And just like the tornado a whirlwind of other thoughts, they are born and die in me, fast and free.
The wind, impetuous continues its path, inexorable, it creates and destroys, I realize it only because it carries the sand, but the wind has always been there! Sometimes things are not seen, they are not heard but they are right there in front of us. Just pay attention and know how to listen.

In the desert, still a reflection, more than anything else obvious, but that today belongs to me.

As long as I was in the car, I felt only the changes in the landscape, from the oasis to the desert, but only the violence of the wind that dragged me away made me realize that things are only grasped if you live them.

We must expose ourselves and try. Without hearing, we're just puppets behind a window. Das Eluth, where the wind sings and creates.

And my journey continues.

The caravanserragli are buildings made up of walls that enclose a large courtyard and a porch. They were used to stop the caravans crossing the desert. It could also include rooms for travelers freely used by travelers. They welcome both travelers and merchandise, and it is both a resting place and a stop on commercial roads, it is both a point of arrival and a starting point.

That's right, a point of arrival but also of departure.

Many of these structures were built by master engineers belonging to Sufi orders (mostly) who applied the principles of golden geometry and the perfect ratio of proportions, as was the case for mosques.


The Caravanserai contains an incredible charm. The colors of the bricks mingle with the colors of the sand, the only color of the sky creates a clear separation with the earth and surrounds the magnificent building that is

it outlines before our eyes, like an animal that has camouflaged itself in the savannah and then when it is very close, it is finally seen.
The desolation of this place and the wind that continues to whisper words in my ear, makes me understand that if you are looking for something, however lost it may be in the end you find it, without purpose, but you find it ... I imagine Marco Polo with his horses get here, in the middle of nowhere and see this fortress so unhospitable .. apparently devoid of interest, invisible and then, once entered, suddenly finds itself in paradise!

Caravansaerraglio externally and internally.

Always looking in depth, never stopping at the exterior, this is the meaning of my reasoning born from the ruins of thoughts and places.
Even in this case you do not stop and continue in the journey and in research.

Letting the free thoughts flow, I continue with my reflections, because I believe it is absolutely useless to describe a country that if only wanted, is willing to make itself known, it is enough to know how to search and have the desire to understand, also because many books, beautiful books, talk about Iran.
In this regard, I allow myself to give some reading tips "To read Lolita in Theran" or "Diario persiano" as well as the guides of the Loney Planet etc. in short, there is no way to read up; I prefer
to tell what this journey represented to me, through the images and ideas of a country so victim of hatred and prejudice.
The Immam Khamenei writes about this: "The humiliation of hatred and illusory fear of the" other "have been the basis of all oppressive exploitation. I would like you to ask yourself now, because this time the old policy of spreading phobia and hatred has hit Islam and Muslims with unprecedented intensity.

Why does the structure of power in today's world want to marginalize Islamic thought? What concepts and principles in Islam disturb the programs of the superpowers and what interests are safeguarded in the shadow of the distortion of the image of Iran? My request and therefore: study and look for the reasons behind this obfuscation of the Image of Islam. "

Immam Seyyed Ali Khamenei January 2019

Well done! I searched I studied history, because I can do it here.

The story tells of how, a few lines drawn on paper at the end of the Turkish-Ottoman Empire, have created and shaped the so-called Middle East.
While the "super powers" still signed the treaty of Versaille that divided the territories of the former Ottoman empire into zones of influence, they established new borders without knowing any cultural or religious differences of any reality, thus laying the foundations for future disagreements. Today these countries are still trying to regain their identity.

Trying to understand a different culture from our own, it is always "difficult" difficult in quotation marks, because as already said, it is enough just to want it, but now reading this information available everywhere, I realize that I really knew nothing about these countries in their history of their culture. Today I understand attitudes and behaviors, I may not share them, but I understand them.

To get to know a country you need to know its history and its stories, go through its cities and meet the faces of its inhabitants.
There is an Iran that lives in us, in our culture without our knowing it: it is hidden in the great narration that from the Bible (Ester, Tobia Sara, Daniele ...) to Nietszche (Thus spake Zarathustra), they take up themes and vicissitudes of culture Persian.

Isfahan Square

There is, however, to be said that between us Westerners and the sons of the desert there is a difference in culture not built by us, it would be foolish to deny it, but there is a barrier of political-religion, mostly a politics-religion that allows the man to have up to 4 wives, there is even a saying, I think it is more Arabic .. but just to make the idea .. "if you can afford one wife, then it means that you live in a poor country".

Women cannot do many things, there are separate entrances in mosques and in public places, they cannot be touched or even looked at. Women arouse a lot of interest, even if covered by heavy clothes, or rather because of this, the curiosity about them increases.

These images of silhouettes of women reign around the country, strictly in chador, but without a face and an inscription at the bottom of the poster “uses the Chador that preserves you”.

Although the advertising propaganda seen around "reminds us" of the use of the chador, many women, where the community allows it, therefore mostly in the big cities, simply wear a veil, resting on the head. The hair can be seen and the incredible beauties that I am forced to hide are perceived. Iranian women know well that they have focused on them a spotlight, not only from their countrymen, but from all over the world .. A thought that makes me say that in reality these women are the true heroines, they are trying to emancipate in a world where, marriages take place only if the mother of the male decides to find a woman for her child, without asking the "chosen" woman for an opinion. A place where love is not allowed.

For Iranians, freedom is limited by loyalty to the family and the state, all tempered by an incredible submission to destiny. Allah Akbar - Allah is great!

This severe code marks with a clear and definitive mark on the religion professed and created by Muhammad, who wandered and migrated, because it was not accepted, just as it was for Jesus and for the Jews.
The three religions of the book are not so dissimilar as some might believe, as I anticipated earlier.
When I first heard Ehsan, talking about Jesus, I again admit my total ignorance about it, I was amazed, I admit. Jesus a prophet of Islam? It is just like Moses, Noah, John the Baptist, Madonna and the archangel Gabriel. Jesus will return together with Mashid (the last missing Immam) on earth, waiting for his advent.

We witnessed the celebration of the day of sacrifice in memory of Abraham, kids slaughtered and skinned before our eyes ... but given to the poor.

In today's Iran 8% of the annual salary is donated to the poor (and it really ends with the poor !!!), I saw women bring pots of food and deliver it from inside a car (because they could not "be seen" or touched by men ) feeding so many people.
The courtesy, the welcome, the kindness, the sense of community are very strong in the Iranian people, I remember two episodes.
Entering to listen to the Immam who spoke, obviously from the entrance of the women, because having heard the call, I had to enter. Alone with my green veil in the middle of a black spot, made up of women in chadors crying. As far as I knew it was the first "green head" that some women had ever seen. They filled me with sweets, candies and tea, as they cried and covered their faces.
They touched me as if I were a relic, a lucky charm. Even the children (in strict custody of the mothers) came to me to take the picture.

Many tried to speak to me in English as proof that what they knew was real. I breathed with them. Their undulating course and tears created energy, which pervaded me. I closed my eyes and breathed in the motionless multitude.
And the color of the veil was gone.

Imagine what a stir in America, in the middle of a few meetings, the sudden arrival of a "Farsi" woman with makeup and lacquered nails?

Reception and kindness would not have been greater than those shown by those women. Kindness revealed a friendly feeling towards the strange woman.
In the city of Isfhan, on the other hand, I happened to talk with two young girls, in a moment of prayer in a mosque.
One evening, I, my dad and Ehsan, our friend Ehsan, went out to eat and, walking in the dark alley of a lifeless bazaar, we came out at the end of a branching of the market.
Ehsan, sure of himself, makes us cross a tiny little door, yet another mosque, but the bewilderment of seeing "yet another mosque" ... leaves me appalled.

The space that opens up in front of us is unlikely, the Muezzin begins the call and the faithful slowly come. The incomprehensible call fills me, a sort of acoustic vibration that reverberates in my chest. I pick up the phone and resume. While I shoot, out of the corner of my eye I see a black mass approaching me and I immediately think of putting away my cell phone, hoping to have offended no one.
The gaze is refocused on the people who are approaching and I realize that they are two little girls, two sweet little girls.

One with the fixture and one with pimples on the face, accompanied by the mother, who proudly asks her daughters to speak to me in English.
They ask me a lot of questions, they are very talkative, unlike me that I shut up the question, what did you think of us, before coming here?

Their need to test themselves in English was overcome by the curiosity to know and go further.

My answer remains vague, but enough for them and I ask myself to go with them to buy a chador in the bazaar, Ehsan intervenes saying that they want to give it to me.
I am embarrassed and I apologize, I don't know for what, I thank them and we take a picture together that will be printed in some way and if they will stick it in the room, like real teenagers, only I am the star here for them.

So many memories of a country that will never leave me, too many to write.

Like in the song Hotel California; You can leave at any time, you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave! You can check out any time you like.
The real problem of the West-East “conflict”, of which I have already written, resides, in my opinion, mainly in the immense work of information media manipulation carried out by governments with a formidable propaganda apparatus.

So let's not be influenced, we always think with our head. Let's check and watch. We try and never stop evolving.

As has happened in the past, we break down the walls but this time of ignorance, stupidity, anger, wickedness, greed, the lust for power.
Those who know and know others will also recognize this: the East and the West can no longer be separated "(Goethe, The Western-Oriental Sofa 1814).
Visit IRAN is a really beautiful country!

Thank you all.

But I want to thank some friends for their kindness and hospitality. For spontaneity.

Ehsan at first!

Ours, at the beginning of the driver, later became a family friend! Come and see us!

Friends of the Aikido Dojo!!

Hello to Mohsen Mohebbi, to the Shirazi brothers, Adel and Aref!

I didn't have to practice, because I wasn't allowed, to a woman, but as soon as I arrived, they immediately offered me keikogi and hospitality!
They gave me books (in Farsi) from Aikido, from Tohei, a Japanese master! They gave me and my father a snack!
Practicing with you on the mat was a thrilling experience! Come and visit us in our dojo!

Hamed and Sama!
I don't have a photo but, I can tell you this, the first night we arrived in Theran they hosted us directly at their house, offering us a delicious coffee!

Thank you!

Noushin! The attention with which you helped was incredible.

Elzmn, Elezmn and all the friends of the Junky food table, who invited us to a party .. really fun!

Mozafar Borhani!

All the amazing people we met along the way!

To my dad, the real hero of this vacation!

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