Humans of New York travels to Iran

[Serpentine]

My name is Brandon and I began Humans of New York in the summer of 2010. HONY resulted from an idea that I had to construct a photographic census of New York City. I thought it would be really cool to create an exhaustive catalogue of the city’s inhabitants, so I set out to photograph 10,000 New Yorkers and plot their photos on a map. I worked for several months with this goal in mind. But somewhere along the way, HONY began to take on a much different character. I started collecting quotes and short stories from the people I met, and began including these snippets alongside the photographs. Taken together, these portraits and captions became the subject of a vibrant blog, which over the past two years has gained hundreds of thousands of followers. With over 300,000 collective followers on Facebook and Tumblr, HONY provides a worldwide audience with daily glimpses into the lives of strangers in New York City.

ON TRAVEL TO IRAN:

The US Government has a lengthy travel warning for Iran. While not advising you to ignore this warning, I do advise that you balance it with direct accounts of Americans who have recently visited the country. These accounts are generally filled with superlatives— the country is beautiful, the history is rich, and the people are eager to demonstrate their almost-sacred commitment to hospitality.

Americans are especially loved. This was noted in every travel account that I read, and I can confirm the fact. You will be smiled at, waved at, invited to meals, and asked to deliver personal messages to Jennifer Lopez. American music, movies, and media are thoroughly consumed by the people of Iran. Like all countries, there are many different viewpoints, but the vast majority of people will associate you with a culture they admire and respect.

I was by no means starry eyed. I’m well aware of Iran’s modern history and government, though my portraits pointedly contained no mention of either. Some of the government’s policies are unfortunately impossible to ignore: Israelis, for example, are not allowed to enter the country. You cannot even enter the country if you have an Israeli stamp in your passport.* I mention this only because it’s well publicized and relavent to travel. I’m avoiding all other critiques, because I am foremost a photographer, and these issues are well-trodden by Western media outlets.

But I can tell you this: for two weeks I mingled with the culture, people, and scenery of Iran, with almost no interference from the government. (A privilege admittedly denied to Iran’s citizenry) I enjoyed the advantages that a tourist receives in any country. Like all countries, Iran has a strong economic interest in insuring its tourists enjoy themselves. Everyone in an official capacity will be very eager that you enjoy your stay. The unfortunate reality is that our two governments have hostile relations, so you will not be allowed to stay in Iranian homes, or go off on your own with Iranian friends. But you will be given extensive freedom to tour the country.

Because you are an American, you will be assigned a guide. But this will be an unexpected blessing. The guide is trained in tourism, and is by no means a government “minder.” Beyond insuring that you adhere to the guidelines mentioned above, their job is to educate you on the history and culture of Iran. Assuming you have no interest in journalism or espionage, the guide will facilitate and expand your experience. In all likelihood, he/she will become your friend. My guide was Mohammad Eslami. If you plan on travelling to Iran, I recommend contacting him: mohammadjavad_82@yahoo.com

You will need a visa. This is most easily achieved through AITO, a tourism agency linked with the Foreign Ministry. In all likelihood it will be approved within 2 weeks. Your visa will need to be retrieved from the Pakistani embassy in Washington DC. (Though I believe you can arrange for it to be shipped.)

Lastly, travel to Iran is extremely cheap right now. It is a darkly beneficial effect of the recent currency devaluation. In very few places can you currently see more, for less.

I’ll close with the common cliche: Iran’s government is not its people. You can greatly enjoy a country, while at the same time disagreeing with it’s government. Travel is not advocacy of ideology or policy. Travel is travel, and it’s the single greatest contributor to understanding between cultures.

*Edited to reflect that Jews can enter the country, given that they've never been to Israel.

There were a lot of uncertainties surrounding my trip to Iran. The US Government advises against all travel to Iran, and especially warns against photography. I travelled to Iran without knowing if I’d be able to achieve anything resembling my work in NYC.

I knew that a lion’s share of my success would hinge on one thing: my guide. Like all Americans, I was assigned a full time guide during my travels through the country. All I knew was that his name was Mohammad, and he was certified by the government to lead Americans.

Who was this man? And how was he going to respond when I told him: “Museums are great, but instead let’s walk around all day and ask strangers for their photograph.”

Mohammad was an absolute godsend. He not only allowed my photography, but he believed in it and became a partner in its success. Asking strangers for photographs is an intimidating process. But he never once refused to make an approach. And almost always, he succeeded in securing permission.

As a result, the collection of photographs that emerged from this trip were a collaborative effort. I provided the eye, Mohammad provided the tongue. Without him, none of these photos would exist, and I am so thankful for his contribution.

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In following posts, I will add the pics.

 

[Serpentine]

These men work at Firehouse 64 in north Tehran. When they found out I was from New York, they excitedly asked: "Are you a fireman too?" I've often secretly wished I was a fireman. But never more than at that moment.

In Tehran

He was driving down a crowded sidewalk, screaming: “Ahmadinejad is coming! Get out of my way!” When I stopped him for a photo, he laid out his daily schedule: “I smoke water pipe. Then I go to work. Then I smoke water pipe with apple flavor.”

(Tehran, Iran)

“Before the revolution this was a famous disco. Now it is a restaurant.”

She plans to be an actress

When I first asked for their photograph, they smiled but didn’t answer. I assumed that meant “no.” “I think they would like to,” said my guide, “but they are just being modest. It is a very Iranian way to act. Ask one more time — they will say yes.”

Mother and daughter share a shopping day in North Tehran, Iran.

 

[Kaniska]

Your ladies are gorgeous and beautiful and so also your society as a whole...

 

[Etiene]

It's important that our humanity can be shown to the world to counter the dehumanizing image the west would prefer.

 

[Serpentine]

I’d just finished taking a portrait, when I hopped into the back of a taxi and began reviewing my photos. Suddenly a policeman appeared out of nowhere, poked his head into the car, and began screaming at me in Farsi. “Oh God,” I thought. “Hopefully Obama will get me out of jail.”

“What does he want?” I asked my guide.

“He wants you to take his photo too.”

The tombs of Iran's poets rival those of its most important religious figures. In fact, Iranian poets can seem like religious figures themselves. People come from all over the country to pay respect to the tomb of Hafez, Iran's most beloved poet. It can be quite a sacred pilgrimage. They weep. They lay flowers on his grave. They recite his poetry-- often in the ear of a lover. Shiraz, Iran

This man was driving me across Tehran yesterday, when I learned that he'd lived for 8 years in America-- incidentally on the same STREET as me in Georgia.

He first crossed into the United States from Mexico-- paying $1,500 to be transported across the border. He wanted to go to University and be a dentist, but learned that the idea of America was much more bountiful than the reality. He worked at a factory job for 8 years, without ever being able to get a drivers license. He wasn't able to find a foothold in society. After 9/11, he said things got much tougher for Middle Eastern immigrants. "I had a great passion for the American people," he said. "When 9/11 happened, I had no money, so instead I gave my blood." Five years ago he spent a night in jail for driving without a license. He decided he was tired of being nervous all the time, and he went all out for a green card. When he was turned down, he returned to Iran.

His fee for a 45 minute taxi ride across Tehran was only $6. I paid him the rate he'd have received in America, and asked for his photograph. He was the kind of man I most admire. The kind that realizes you get one shot at life, and risks everything to make the best of it. I was sorry it didn't work out for him.
"It was my destiny," he said. He didn't sound like he believed his own words though.
"Are you married?" I asked.
"Yes. I met my wife when I returned to Iran."
"Well there you go," I said.

As I prepared to take his photograph, he made one request: "Don't photograph me with the taxi," he said, "it's a low class job."
"It's not a low class job," I said. "It's the job of people who take huge risks so their children can be lawyers and surgeons."

The Roof of Tehran

It seems that men everywhere feel the same way about shopping.

The clerics of Iran, for better or worse, are synonymous with the government. Their “party line” is the mirror image of their Western counterparts: “The American people are a good people,” he says. “We have a problem with the American government.”

(Tehran, Iran)

Isfahan,Iran

A young group of teen boys from a local high school in Tehran. One of them asked me if I thought the world would end on December 21st. I told them: "If the world ends on that day, I will give you all a million dollars." This caused a brief flurry of excitement. Very brief.

 

[Serpentine]

Iran may have the brightest, most colorfully dressed children in the world.

(Isfahan, Iran)

Coloring Inside The Lines

(Shiraz, Iran)

A rather joyous encounter with an Afghan family in the Shiraz Bazaar.

Seen in Shiraz, Iran

An Iranian Air Force lieutenant takes a stroll with his girl in the
mountains of North Tehran.

Construction worker by day.
Martial artist by night.
Model by birth.

(Isfahan, Iran)

As I walked by, he motioned for me to come and share his lunch. And all he had was a single plate of rice.

A Chinese filmmaker congratulates an Iranian cleric who has just finished speaking on the meaning of Happiness, in fluent Mandarin. Boy in [apparent] Italian sweatshirt looks on. Scene captured by an American photographer. How’s that for Kumbaya?

“The meaning of happiness is different for everyone. Though the happiness is the same, the paths to that happiness are many. Even within monotheism, even within Islam, there are many different paths. Outside of monotheism, those paths increase exponentially.” (His answer, translated back into Farsi, then into English.)

(Isfahan, Iran)

 

[TurAr]

I’d just finished taking a portrait, when I hopped into the back of a taxi and began reviewing my photos. Suddenly a policeman appeared out of nowhere, poked his head into the car, and began screaming at me in Farsi. “Oh God,” I thought. “Hopefully Obama will get me out of jail.”

“What does he want?” I asked my guide.

“He wants you to take his photo too.”

He was driving down a crowded sidewalk, screaming: “Ahmadinejad is coming! Get out of my way!” When I stopped him for a photo, he laid out his daily schedule: “I smoke water pipe. Then I go to work. Then I smoke water pipe with apple flavor.”

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[Serpentine]

(Isfahan, Iran)

I seem to have caught her in a moment of contemplation, but she was all smiles.

(Abyaneh, Iran)

She was so beautiful, I sat on a stoop for 20 minutes until she finished shopping.

(Sepidan, Iran)

The best accessory is a good friend.

(Isfahan, Iran)

Mahmoud was my driver during my time in Shiraz. Perhaps the most colorful man I’ve ever met. He speaks English in simple phrases, which always involve his name, such as “Mahmoud happy” or “Mahmoud love.” Often he just says “Mahmoud,” then points at me, and places his hands over his heart.

He is the most hospitable man I’ve ever met. If I needed to cross the street, Mahmoud became a crossing guard. He would not let me open my own car door, or my own bottle of water. At one time or another, it seemed that he offered to give me everything he owned. I once made the mistake of accepting his offer of cologne, then got sprayed eight times.

My fondest memory of Mahmoud was yesterday when we laid down to rest in a garden. Mahmoud had carefully prepared two beds using mats and blankets. I couldn’t fall asleep, so I decided to let Mahmoud rest, and went for a short walk by the river. When I looked back, Mahmoud had woken up, folded up both the beds, and was running to accompany me.

(Shiraz, Iran)

America’s greatest ambassadors don’t wear suits.

(Isfahan, Iran)

I tried to communicate my vision through my guide. I’d say we got about 80% of the way there. But between the beauty of the young women and the garden, I doubt anyone is looking too closely at composition.

(Isfahan, Iran)

 

[hossein9]

Hmmm, he seems to be overly interested in taking pictures of Iranian girls

 

[Yogi]

Iran is really very beautiful n the people also look very nice....
i think a little awareness about What Iran is Actually could bring a lot of change in public perception about Iran...

 

[Serpentine]

Seen in Tehran, Iran.

Career Highlight: I was walking in a blizzard, on a mountaintop several thousand feet above Tehran, when this guy shouts: “I love your Facebook page!”

(Tehran, Iran)

I hesitated the first time she skated by, and missed my chance. So when she passed me twenty minutes later, I thought the Universe was trying to tell me something.

(Isfahan, Iran)

This wonderful man crossed in front of us as we were speeding down a mountain road. His clothes, his hair, the lines on his face— he seemed to be a perfectly natural extension of the landscape.

(Abyaneh, Iran)

She tried to claim that she wasn’t photogenic, then she totally Vogued.

Seen in Tehran, Iran.

 

[Serpentine]

The Apprentice

Going to a carpet shop in Iran is like going to an art gallery. (In this case, I visited the Iran Carpet House on Dr. Fatemi Street). The first carpet was made 2,500 years ago in Ancient Iran. And the tradition has developed into one of the world’s finest arts. The carpets are respectfully referred to as “pieces,” and the finest ones bear the signature of the artist. Some carpets take a single artist several years to weave. The carpets are divided into two main groups: Nomadic and City. The Nomadic carpets are made by mountainous nomadic tribesmen, contain mostly wool, and are woven completely from the imagination of the artist. Therefore, “there is no such thing as a mistake in a Nomadic carpet.” City carpets are more expensive, because they contain large amounts of silk, and are painstakingly rendered from preset patterns. The “holy grail” of Persian carpets is the rare nomadic carpet made of silk, not wool. (Ideally imbued with magic flying powers)

I came to photograph people, but the natural beauty of this country is astounding. Today was a climbing drive through craggy mountains, wrapped in fog, and punctuated with pockets of light. Enough to make a man want to lean out the window and scream: “Irannnnnnn!”

(Isfahan, Iran)

Seen at the Grand Bazaar, Tehran.

Common Eye

Seen in Tehran, Iran.

 

[BLACKEAGLE]

Iranians have great taste of cloths,

 

[Serpentine]

Seen in Tehran, Iran

Etched into the walls of Persepolis are hundreds of men, marching in a caravan, bringing tribute to the king. They represent all the nations of the known world. The only woman to be found is on the axle of a wheel. Because if it was removed, the whole damn thing would come apart.

So much of Iran's history, as well as world history, is encapsulated in this image. These are the 200 year old etchings of British servicemen, carved into the 2500 year old walls of Persepolis-- the markings of a modern empire on the ruins of an ancient one. The drive to empire is not a disease of individual nations, but a disease of humanity.

Perhaps Iran's greatest jewel is Persepolis, which roughly translates into "City of Persians." Built over 2500 years ago, Persepolis served as the cradle of the Persian Empire. Caravans would come from all over the world to bring tribute to the Persian kings. In 330 BC, Alexander the Great destroyed the palace during his conquest of Persia, in retaliation for the destruction of Athens by Xerxes.

I think it is safe to conclude that the concept of "personal space" did not originate in the Middle East. Iranians demonstrate their affection in very physical ways. They hug, they pinch cheeks, they walk hand-in-hand with their friends. Personally, the culture fits my nature. I tend to be an overhugger by Western standards.

Away From It All

Living in New York, I thought I had become a professional jaywalker. Not even close. It's a whole different league in Tehran. New Yorkers wait for a small break in the traffic to step into the street. Tehranis CREATE small breaks in traffic by stepping into the street. There is no waiting involved.

 

[TruthSeeker]

It's important that our humanity can be shown to the world to counter the dehumanizing image the west would prefer.

The "West" does not prefer a dehumanizing "image" of Iran. The "West" only prefers that Iran not set off a nuclear weapons race that results in the actual "dehumanization" of millions of humans. Iran could make a gigantic contribution to world peace and human harmony by stopping its nuclear weapons program and accepting the existence of the Jewish State of Israel.