A First Day

I'm sitting here right now with my two cousins and they're completely enthralled by my iPhone, they are in complete awe of the technology and are slowly figuring out its every function. The two of them are extremely amiable, one just having got married, the other still in college, and the warm feeling is incredibly inviting.

But, it has taken 22 hours of travel to get to this apartment in Tehran.

The beginning of the trip consisted of the normal chaos of travel in SFO, baggage check, metal detectors, a monotone women's voice telling me that the terror alert is at Orange and that I should be looking around for anything suspicious, an open grenade, Osama bin Laden, my not- yet-grown mullah-esque beard. Nonetheless, SFO to Amsterdam was a smooth flight, but what I noticed about service in American airlines was the feeling that I was not a human being but just another thing. The drinks were rationed out as if we were facing a drought up tens of thousands of feet in the air, sneer looks were given when assistance was asked for, and behind every cheesy, quintessential stewardess smile lies something that made me, at least, feel slightly uncomfortable.

Once in Amsterdam we were immediately launched into the beginning of the emotional deluge. My mother met her brother, my uncle, that she hadn't seen for 32 years. Prior to landing we had viewed a picture of a thick black haired, desert-brown Iranian male with a mouthful of pearly whites, but the uncle we met in Amsterdam was nearly unrecognizable. Truly the years had weighed down his every feature, from his cheeks that were losing to gravity, his teeth eroded by unfiltered cigarettes and a personality-type that didn't advocated hygiene, he tried to dress nicely, but one can always notice when another tries to dress nice for one specific occasion, but other than that wedding, funeral, reunion they're aloof. But he had traveled the world, was a polyglot with an arsenal of ten languages, and was enjoying himself.

My mother and him talked for the five hours of delay we had, and after an awkward goodbye, a forced European double-kiss that had obviously lost its natural, reflexive motion, we slowly went to the point of no return as he saw us away.

When we got on the airline to Iran the demeanor changed drastically, the Islamic Republic could be felt looming above, but the uncomfort was immediately swept away. When we first took our seats on the airplane instead of hearing a mechanical voice welcoming us to the airlines, we heard the voice of I'm not sure who telling us that God was watching over the flight and that they wished us a safe trip. After the plane was in flight the stewardesses were extremely hospitable, as if each passenger was their guest, instead of giving a cold look when getting a request they gladly finished the task with a smile, the food was saffron rice and chicken, the man serving me offered me a whole can of Pepsi and offered me more if I got thirsty, during the meal the same man walked down the aisle with a tray full of bread for anybody to grab, they held conversations with the passengers, joked, jabbed, jested and created a very comfortable atmosphere, even though the plane was an older model and a bit more rickety than the brand new Boeing 747 we took on our long flight to Amsterdam.

My sister and my mother quickly clad theimselves in the shawls, covering their hair, they both looked foreign by the cacophonic clash of styles that they wore, their shawls were old-fashioned and off colored with the rest of their outfits.

When we entered the ariport the vibe was a little tense, especially on passport check. A tour group of Saudi Arabians in matching white coverings were in front of us as well as a harem of women in black abayas that covered their everything. We eventually made it through, got our luggage and finally met the family in an uproar of excitement, hellos and how-are-yous. The Iranian welcome is great, and after getting our luggage in the cars and seating situated we were on the Tehran roads.

Tehran's roads could be called chaotic, but the word wouldn't come close to defining them. Cars are unruly, serving from one lane to the other, making lanes of their own, pedestrians J-Walking with the will of what seems like a suicide, voices yelling, antiquated car horns beeping, seat belts are a thing of the future and needn't be worn, but we eventually made it home.

After a quick chat with the family we eventually relaxed, and are now getting ready for bed. All in all, a quick analysis of Iran can come with a comparison of its Airlines with Western airlines, in the latter I was a customer, in the former I was a guest. And one thing Iranians always make sure to do is to make sure their guests enjoy their stay.