I’m looking at a TV in my hotel room, the Holy Quran being
read, switching other channels I see mosques in the background, zapping to
another channel I see Mecca city shown, jumping to another discussion about The
Saint Calipha Ali. Another channel shows documentary about the 1979 regime, in
summary I did not find a channel that was entertainment or not religion based.
I visit museums, go to parks and look for good quality
fabric is the big bazaar. It was here fasting season. No one allowed to eat
outside. No food outlets open. I was hungry a lot. I pop in to a quiet burger
shop open, but nothing being cooked. He says no eating allowed. People do eat here
but eat in secret, I somehow sense. He prepares me a sandwich. Eat here before
anyone else sees you he says, while he watches the window.
The particular museum I was visiting was about the people put
to prison for the 1979 revolution by the Imperial family. I was noticed there
by a group of people travelling around Tahran. I engaged talking to them about
the museum and about them. We talked through the museum, even to outside. I
actually did not like being alone at all. I did want to join them. I felt they
wanted to invite me to, but looking for a reason from me. I kept silent. I do
not why. I left them there in their car me, heading to a park sad and alone.
I was alone in Tahran as a tourist, I’d say. I did not come across
any foreign tourist. I take photos in every opportunity I find, I mean every
opportunity. I was the only one in this crossway, it was late in the evening, I’m
taking photos of the museum architecture, and a soldier shouts at me, calling
me nearer. He tells no photos allowed. I do not see any sign. There was a
soldier barricade next to museum. I’m scared. He looks at me terribly. Running
away comes to my mind. I notice his gun, I don’t think he would shooting at me.
I did nothing wrong, I’m sure this will be cleared soon. I get nearer to him.
He tells to get inside. I will learn later that this soldier was exaugurated
the situation, he may have found me suspicious as there wasn’t anything
interesting taking photos here he might have thought. Spies are not allowed here.
I tell him I’m just a tourist, the museum looked interesting and I did not take
a photo of your place. He calls his superior to investigate me further. My
camera is taken. None of them speak good English. So someone being called to
talk to me. I wait there half and hour. I beg them to let me go, as they
searched my phone, camera and me already and I’m clean. Still I wait for the
interpreter to come.
Interpreter arrives round 1am, searches everything on me,
talks to me for over 1 hour and filling forms. I demand to go to my hotel I
say. He tells me that he need to do searching one a computer which can take
time. I’m allowed to go to my hotel on the condition that I do not leave until someone
comes there and tells me so. My passport and ID taken as a collateral. All day
in my hotel waiting for that someone to come, because as soon as he come I’m
leaving this country until my brain clears from this situation. That someone
comes an knocks my doors at around midday just as they said, kinda Mafia
looking man, I feel he is prepared to do anything on me if granted. I take
extreme caution in everything I say and do. I talk to myself that you’re innocent,
even though it was escalated this far, they still not made their mind on me,
until they do I concentrate being very uncomfortable. He tells me to go out I
wonder if they are taking me to a station, or an airport, no it was a car, with
two man inside with the interpreter. I’m in this car with 3 strong man, and I have
no power. He blindfolds my eyes, puts me in a brace position. Full survival instincts
kicks in me. The only person would understand me here was the interpreter. They
still did not have made their mind on me. I still can persuade them. I was
innocent and I do not think they want to hurt innocent person, but people can
do many crimes in the name protecting the country. I have to put an act. I’m
going to honest all the way.
I’m taking to a building. Second floor or something. There
is an office, and dining chair next door. All furniture looked brand new to me.
He asks me almost everything about my life. Even my email address. He even asks
password for it. I’m giving a sandwich. It was cold and not tasty at all but I was
hungry. Nothing in country seem tasty to me. Maybe it was the fasting season. When
I was alone in the room, I check one of the cupboards, full of blankets, some are
locked.
The interpreter had an American accent, he tells me that he
never been to America and he learned English in Tahran. Every photo on my phone
and camera brought to me printed. He wanted me to explain all of them. I demand
for consulate as I do not know how to answer his questions. He comes back again
about an hour later. I begin criticizing his country. I tell my country is not
like here. People can wear anything they want. They do not have to wear all
black and cover their hair. This is not freedom. I tell home I miss my country
so much. I just wanna go to my country and I will never come to Iran again. Why
are you not being friends with America I ask, it’s better for Iran. I’m
American people wants for better Iran too. I’m sure all the people wants better
things for other people. There is no need to be enemies. Iran should not close
itself to outside. If building nuclear station making enemies outside, don’t
build it. Iranian people loosing so much. Iran is a very rich country and a
strong culture and part of the Earth. People wants to see this place, if they
feel safe to do so. I come here to see this part of the Earth, I do not harm
anyone, I’m not a thief, why is this happening to me, I ask the interpreter.
I think I make him sad, he agrees some of what I said, I
think he sees that I’m a good person. He tells of you will come to Iran again,
Iran is a Sharia country, people cover their had. He is looking for a reason to
let me go I feel. He still wants to make sure, but I happen to be here, you
know. He calls me to another room. I was acting worried. He gets close to me,
put his hand on my neck, like whatever he does there with his hand on my neck,
he can get away with. I begin to cry. He looks worried. Why do you cry he says.
I never been blindfolded I say. I’m just a tourist, I miss my country, I just
want to go to my country, I say. I think there I give him the ignition. There
then, I’m allowed to go to my hotel. And my passport will be brought to me round
mid-day. He tells me that I’m going to be blindfolded again, as this building
is a secret. If asks me if I’m going to be ok with this. I say not, then he
tells me that I’m going to be in a brace position until they think no longer
necessary. I agree. I could see it was a four story building, another building shadow
close to it and the car was parked 1/3 way on a steep hill. My head put down in
the car. The driver takes many shortcuts, I think for me to not memorise the
way there. On the main road I’m allowed,
I look through the window. I see street baggers. Teenagers inhaling on glue and
their waste little green patch on the crossway. Families made the park their
home, practically cooking, sleeping, washing in the open. I think the journey I
was like 20 minutes or so. The place was inside the city definitly.
I should have talk to the people in the museum, ask them If
I can join them. I don’t think this would have happened to me.
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