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Sunday 2004-05-30 - Kāshān, Iran
Dinner solves a misunderstanding
Unusually, our Iranian guide Showān had accompanied us for dinner in the Delpazir restaurant in Kāshān. After dinner, a conversation between him and our travel companion Marie Josee ensues (with Thom and me listening and sometimes prompting). Marie Josee, a very independent woman and capable travel companion, and Showān, a well-educated Iranian (but maybe raised somewhat traditionally) working as a guide to help finance his studies, had had a personality clash right from the first moment they met; now, they’re really talking for the first time, and Showān tells us what he’d wanted not to bother us with at first.
Just before we arrived in Iran, new rules set by the government required each group to be accompanied by a guide (we certainly hadn’t asked for one, and Marie Josee had actually wanted to “fire” him). His brief was that he was responsible for us, for our safety, and that we didn’t take any photographs of military objects. The problem is that we’re independent travellers, travelling ‘with’ a group rather than ‘in’ a group — something Showān had never encountered before, but the standard for the trips organized by Koning Aap Reizen (Monkey King Travels). It was already clear to us he always tried to stay with us and keep us together; at one time the group actually decided to get rid of him for once by splitting up and all go in different directions at the same time — unwittingly making Showān’s job very difficult for him. He actually had clear instructions (from the government, by proxy of his travel agency) to keep us together. Already on the very first evening, in Tabriz, he found this was impossible to do.
On the third day, so he tells us now, he’d called his boss to explain it was impossible to keep us together, but also that he found us really interested travellers and would like to stay with us. That evening, a meeting took place in Tehrān at the highest level: the minister of tourism, a man from the tourism bureau, and someone from the travel agency (Showān’s employer); the meeting lasted three hours. Finally, Showān did get ‘permission’ to ‘let us loose’ (not that he had any choice, but at least they’d acknowledged that); but he was told he’s still responsible for us not to photograph any military objects and for our safety (how is he going to handle that when we spread out over each city and town we visit?). The decision eased the situation for him only partly, and he’s still in a conundrum; if anything goes wrong, that will likely destroy his chance to go to abroad next year to continue his studies as he’s hoping to do: it’s not just his job on the line but his future as well.
On the other hand, not having encountered people before who travel like we do, he had decided to try an experiment to find out what it’s like: walk around a strange city, without help, without speaking the language, without even a map. In Sanandaj we’d encountered him together with driver Mohammed and assistant Ali, proudly telling us: “We do what you do!” We had no clue what he meant then but now it’s suddenly clear — and he confesses he actually didn’t manage to find the way back without help. Of course, that’s something you have to learn through practice but we’re impressed he actually tried this to get a feel for how we travel.
Showān also still has to report back where we are each day, and what we do — we have no problem with that — and Marie Josee has a solution: she’ll just give him the same photocopies with city information she gives us: that way he can ‘report’ without even trying to baby-sit us.
Of course in one conversation personalities and personal backgrounds don’t change. But at least now there’s a truce and mutual understanding. Showān has a difficult job to do, and his future is at stake as well…
Thursday 2005-09-29 - Ta’ersi, China
Surprise in the Kumbum Jampaling
The monastery in Ta’ersi (called the Kumbum monastery or Kumbum Jampaling) is indeed very large. Obviously the Chinese are ‘developing’ it as a tourist attraction and a whole new entrance has been built — which we ignore since the old entrance (now side entrance) is simply at the end of the street: there’s an iron gate, half-closed with a chain, which everyone simply ducks under to enter.
At first we can’t find where to buy a ticket but when we try to enter a temple we’re stopped and pointed to the ticket office. Officially there are nine ‘sites’ to visit but it seems one is closed while some other buildings (like the Kumbum Old Monk’s Home) don’t require a ticket at all. Alas at most temples photography is not allowed — except of course when one monk in a nice jacket over his robes asks me to take his picture!
The whole complex is so huge (and the weather so unpleasant with a constant drizzle) that we give up on the idea of seeing each and every building. One highlight we visit is the Dharma Protector temple where on the second floor, around the courtyard, a range of stuffed animals is looking down on us over the railing: a bear, a deer, a yak, etc.: animals that are also frequently pictured in Buddhist paintings.
Another interesting temple is the Kalachakra Mandala temple: while the outside of the temple building is square, the inside floor plan is laid out in the form of a Mandala, with a large circle within the square of the walls and inside that other squares and circles within each other, forming a three-dimensional mandala. Just inside the large circle (which I understand symbolizes the wheel of time) is a text made of individual Tibetan characters standing up, painted in different bright colors and interspersed with small statues of mythical animals. I’m half expecting the row of characters to start marching round — the whole interior of this temple somehow reminds me of a planetarium and I actually look if there isn’t a mechanism there — but no, I see nothing: this wheel of time remains stationary. What is weird is that when you walk around in a clockwise direction (as required) you’re reading the text from right to left (if you can read Tibetan that is) but the Tibetan script is actually written left to right. I wish I could read the text here!
At a third temple (of which the name has escaped me) we find a real surprise: a little gold frame propped up on a Buddha statue holds a portrait of the Dalai Lama with the (unofficial) Tibetan flag as the background. Portraits of the Dalai Lama are strictly forbidden by the Chinese (as is the flag) — didn’t they notice this or are they getting a little more lenient?
After a late lunch at a Chinese restaurant (our dishes beautifully decorated with flowers folded from thin slices of a kind of radish) and a birthday party with a big Chinese birthday cake in one of the upstairs gambling rooms of the hotel, we board our bus again which takes us to Xining.
