navigate:
Sunday 2004-05-30 - Qom, Iran
Shrine of Fatima
Through a beautiful landscape of rounded mountains with wide, fertile plains and valleys in-between and snow-capped mountains far to the south, we ride to Qom, a holy city for Shi’ite Muslims. Surprisingly, there are very few trees in this fertile area; the ones we see are clearly planted: some poplars (construction wood), and orchards with nuts and fruit trees. After we pass Arāk the landscape changes and becomes less fertile but now there are more trees — strange.
In Qom we stop to visit the Hazrat-e Masumeh complex: a very large complex around the holy shrine of Fatima (Fatima al-Masumeh, sister of Emām Reza (789-816AD), who died and was buried here in 816 AD. The first buildings date back to the Safavid era, started in the early 17th century under Shah Abbas I (1587-1629) and extended during later rulers. The complex comprises a large mosque with three inner courtyards, each in its own style, and many other buildings, most dating back to the 17th century but new ones are still being added.
Usually non-Muslims aren’t allowed in, and all women have to wear a chador but we’re very lucky today: our guide Showān manages to arrange that we’re allowed in anyway and (after a short inspection of us ladies to see if we’re decently clothed, which we are!) even without a chador. To promote international relationships, we’re received in the office of the Mullah, an obviously very intelligent and sympathetic man who welcomes us warmly, tells us something about the complex (we all get a picture and a brochure as well), asks some questions of us (like what’s the most surprising or new thing we’ve seen in Iran — veiled women —, what made us decide to visit Iran, etc.) and invites us to ask questions of our own. The complex is being restored at the moment, and he tells us it will take several more years to complete; when I remark that I hope to once come back to Iran and see it again in its full glory, he answers he wishes that for me, too. If we make a wish here, he says, no matter if we are Muslim or not, the wish will come true. He answers our questions subtly and politely; clearly a deeply religious man without being extremist — a man who commands respect.
Part of the complex is a school where people from all over the world come to study to become a mullah: a basic study of 6 years, and another 10 years to become fully qualified (10 years in all if you study very, very hard); there are 92,000 students per year, 18,000 of them from foreign countries, including from Europe. Also part of the complex is a kitchen, normally catering to the personnel but on Wednesday and Friday evenings food is distributed to the poor; there’s a small hospital as well for those who are sick and clearly too poor to pay for medical help.
After the visit to the Mullah, we’re allowed to walk around for 20 minutes in the courtyards (but not enter the buildings); from the third courtyard we can actually see a glimpse of the shrine though. Today is a special day — the anniversary of the death of Fatima, I think — and we see Pilgrims from many countries, Arabs and Pakistani clearly recognizable by their clothes, Shi’ites pounding their breast as a sign of mourning. I feel really privileged to be allowed to witness all this and experience the deeply religious atmosphere — something we have mostly lost in the Western world. I won’t be able to share my photographs though: they’re all just pictures in my head since (understandably) photography is not allowed here.
Thursday 2009-05-21 - Mashhad, Iran
Adventure at the Holy Shrine
Our destination for the afternoon is the holy shrine of Imam Reza which forms the physical and symbolic core of the holy city of Mashhad; the city map makes this clear, but last night it was beautifully obvious from the plane just before we landed, with lighted streets all converging on the huge, floodlighted complex of the shrine.
As in Qom, opinions differ on whether to admit non-Muslims at all, or only deny them access to the shrine itself, or be open and admit everyone. As a result, while we — all non-muslims — will be able to enter the complex today, it´s unsure whether we´ll be able to enter the shrine building itself. There, as usual, men and women enter in separate rooms on two sides of the shrine itself; since our local guide is male, he has organized some local women to accompany the women in our group (the majority); they brought some children as well, which supposedly makes our group look less like tourists. Unfortunately, their English isn´t very good so it´s rather hard to communicate (which in turn makes us more obvious than intended). We´re instructed to stay together, and avoid questions about whether we are muslim or not.
We enter through one of the huge courtyards, surrounded by beautiful buildings. Here and there, men and women distinguished only by the fact they carry what looks like a feather duster are standing around: they´re here to keep order (probably volunteers). Then we enter one of the older buildings, a very large hall, with a completely white stuccoed ceiling — a surprise when most Shi’ite mosques we´ve seen have ceilings covered completely in faceted mirrors. It´s beautiful here, and there´s a relaxed atmosphere with men and women sitting around quietly, children with them freely playing around them. I’d like to stay here a bit but we move on. Then another huge and beautiful courtyard, and next to it the shrine building. Here we split up. Us women enter the shrine bulding in a tight group with our guides without any problem, being given a look over by woman with a feather duster, with a smile and without comment. The scene inside is somewhat emotional, but that doesn’t surprise me, I´ve seen that before at a shrine. The women nearby are friendly, smiling, welcoming.
Then, suddenly, our guides call us: we must go out — now. Somehow, we have been spotted as non-Muslims and ordered out, apparently. Once outside, our companions tell us to sit together in a circle. A friend of one of them greets them, and they tell her (loud enough to be understood by bystanders) that we´re from the Netherlands, which probably doesn´t help our situation. Now some officials with a badge stay near us until a short man approaches and tells us to wait. We tell him that if we can´t go inside, we just want to go outside to meet our male companions at the museum. No, we must wait here, he tells us. We´re ordered to a different location on the side of the courtyard, and still we must wait. We´re worried the men of our group will be waiting for us either at the museum, or somewhere else, but we´re just not allowed to go. Finally, to our relief, the men come outside too, and find us here (guided by one of the officials). The short man, obviously in charge, wants us to come to the Foreign Visitors´ Office, to register (they want to keep statistics about vistors, he tells us) and watch a film about Islam and the Holy Shrine. None of us wants to watch a film, so after dutifully feeding their statistics we finally go out. By then, we´ve lost two of the women in our group — they apparently declined to even go into the office, but none of us knows what they planned, or whether they already left or not, so we stand around waiting for quite a while; they don´t turn up.
Finally we split up, with most of the group going on foot to the bazaar nearby, and me going back to the hotel with our bus to be back in time for my meeting.
