Arrival

Chapter Two

ARRIVAL

I still remember as if it was yesterday that very first trip to Iran.

On a not particularly warm July day in 1979 I boarded a plane at Heathrow airport bound for the city where my fiancé Siamak was waiting for me. Siamak was already in Tehran. We had both left on the same day but Siamak had got a direct flight with Iran with a forty percent discount because he was an Iranian student whereas I was taking an Aeroflot flight much cheaper than any of the other flights but with a stopover on the way in Moscow. I had been told that the stopover would be 3 hours but on arrival in Moscow our passports were taken away from us and we, the passengers, were transported to an Aeroflot hotel in the centre of Moscow for the night. The flight to Tehran does not leave until tomorrow morning we were told so you will stay the night in an Aeroflot Hotel. The Hotel was in the centre of Moscow so we were transported by coach to the hotel.

Once at the hotel we were allocated rooms although this was not done with any hurry or urgency so took quite a long time. We were not allowed to leave the hotel or make phone calls. Russia was still under Communist rule in those days  part of the USSR. We were also told that there was a restaurant on the top floor of the hotel where we could get food. It was all free of charge.

I was given a room with another woman about the same age as myself twenty one years old. She was also on her way to Tehran to meet her future parents in law but from what she told me they did not seem very enthusiastic about their son marrying an English girl. She told me that she was pregnant which I knew would not go down very well. You are supposed to be a virgin on your wedding night or at least appear to be.

She was a nice enough girl but I had nothing in common with her and felt quite smug that I was going somewhere that I knew I would be welcome.

The hotel room that we shared was quite spartan and everything looked old fashioned and worn. The beds had quilts on them but the quilt covers had large round holes in the middle the only way that you could get the quilt  into its cover. The room had an ensuite bathroom with a toilet, a basin and a corner bath which was a bit strange. Again very old fashioned and worn looking with big white tiles like an old 1930s bathroom.

I remember that each floor had a television in the corridor broadcasting only state run T.V. Channels. Just the staff in the hotel appeared to be watching television.

I asked if I could make a phone call to let Siamak know that I would not be arriving that night as I thought he would be worried, but no, no phone calls were allowed.

I went up to get something to eat. By this time it was about 8pm. I don't remember a lot about the food except a yogurt drink in glass bottles.

I wondered how I was going to pass the rest of the evening I thought a short stroll in the vicinity of the hotel would be good but we were not allowed to go outside.

Sleep didn't come easily as I was so excited about getting to Tehran but also worried that I might oversleep and be left in Moscow forever.

The following morning we were woken early by the hotel staff knocking on our doors. Passengers bound for Tehran assembled downstairs and we got onto the coach for our return journey to the airport.

I looked out on to the streets of Moscow. I remember the women going off to work they all wore very similar looking clothes like a sort of overall that women wore here in the 1950s when they were doing their housework. The streets were clean and I remember the Moscow Bear symbol everywhere in readiness for the Olympic Games the following year.

When we arrived at the airport we had breakfast in the airport restaurant; a lot of pumpernickel bread the very dark brown bread and tea.

Our passports were then returned to us before we were taken through to the departure lounge.

We boarded the plane for the final part of the journey Moscow to Tehran. There were not many people on the plane in fact it was almost empty. There were mainly business men and returning locals. I was so excited, I couldn't wait to get to my destination. "start as you mean to go on"I said to myself"and say the few words that you know:" Salom khalachehtory" hello how are you, the words I had learnt in readiness for this trip.

I didn't know who would be at the airport to meet me either, but Siamak had given me instructions about observing the Islamic dress code which meant covering my head and wearing something loose fitting, as he was not sure what the country would be like in the aftermath of the revolution which had only finished about four months before my trip.

I put on my headscarf and raincoat which he said would be fine, but I felt very stupid as no other women seemed to be bothering and I knew that the weather was going to be hot outside on my arrival. I remember another English women on the flight who said that her husband was working in Iran; she was on her way back to join him, she wasn't bothering with a scarf and I felt very uncomfortable with my scarf on.  Anyway I thought it best to do as Siamak had said. In my experience I now know that Siamak tends to think things are a lot stricter than they often are although that is not to undermine how tough the authorities can be on women and enforcing the Islamic dress code today.

By now we were flying over the city I had waited so long to see. I will never forget my first impressions from so high up. The brown landscape was very different from the green landscape of England. I saw tall mountains then the city which looked extremely small nestled up against the foot of the mountains. The sun seemed to glint off every surface. The skyline was also unfamiliar with the flat roofs and the domes of mosques. To me it all looked so beautiful, so fascinating and so foreign.

The aeroplane touched down in Tehran and the doors opened. The intense heat and strange smells that awaited outside the plane were totally alien to me. I was swept along with all the other passengers towards the airport building; due to the small amount of passengers we were through the passport checks in no time; no visa was required in those days and I entered the country on my British passport. Now I have Iranian citizenship and an Iranian passport which I use when I visit Iran. If I used my British passport I would need to get a visa.

I emerged into the main arrivals hall and Siamak came running over. " take off your scarf and raincoat it is not necessary to wear them" he said. I was quite surprised after all he had said before we left the U.K. about this new regime which was veering towards an Islamic government.

Siamak then led me over to a group of people that consisted of brothers sisters and cousins. All my ideas of speaking in their language disappeared as in my nervousness I found myself saying "hello. Nice to meet you". They did not seem worried that they did not understand me they just seemed as excited as I was.

We all crammed into the car there was six of us all together and stuffed the luggage in as best we could. We left the airport and  pulled away into the heavy city traffic which enveloped us in the same way that the pungent heat smell and amazing sights did.

There were women dressed in long black cloaks some in printed head scarves and some dressed in the same manner as the girls with me, light summer dresses or jeans and T-shirts. I, by comparison was totally overdressed, never expecting the heat that waited for me at the end of the journey. I had a thin polo neck jumper on and a pleated skirt. I also had on tights and closed in shoes.

I didn't have much of an idea really of what people would be wearing in Iran before I went but Siamak had said that his mother and aunts wore the chador when they went out of the house the all enveloping black or flowery print cloak but also that you would see women in mini skirts and sleeveless tops, frowned upon by the more traditional and older generations.

The cars seemed to jostle with each other for a place on the road and traffic lights were irrelevant. Everybody seemed to be hooting at everyone else but it didn't make any difference to anything. Between the road and the pavement there were deep wide gutters, which carried excess water when it rained, and I was amazed the cars didn't fall into them but everyone seemed to be an expert at weaving in and out and around any obstacle that presented itself. Many years later when I had started driving in Iran I remember saying to my mother that driving in Iran is a cross between driving at Brands Hatch and an obstacle race.

Before very long we were at our destination. One of the passengers jumped out of the car ran across the road and rang on a doorbell. I couldn't see a house, just a large imposing wall into which were set two gates the same height as the wall. I couldn't imagine the scene that lay beyond the tall wall but I was soon to find out as the doors slowly opened and the most exciting trip of my life was about to begin.