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November
23, 1999
Tabriz, Iran to Erzurum, Turkey
Today we
finally crossed out of what was once the great Mongolian empire, the
largest empire the world has ever known. At its height it extended from
the Pacific (East of China), into modern day Russia, it included the
subcontinent of India and encompassed everything in between all the way
to the Middle East and Eastern Turkey. After more than 35 days of solid
driving, we are finally leaving this once-vast empire. Having seen the
diversity of people, food, animals, and geography, it is amazing that an
empire like this could have existed at all. However, as with all empires,
it collapsed under the weight of greed and infighting. During its
existence, it was able to accomplish an amazing amount of cooperation and
trade that should stand out in our history books. However, it seems that
little Asian history and all its glory is known and appreciated in the
West. Now, let me step down from my historical soapbox and attempt to
cover the events of the day.
We were all
sad, except for maybe Chanda, to say goodbye to the amazing country of
Iran. I found it to be awe-inspiring, with its people, history,
hospitality, architecture and cuisine. I was completely enthralled. I
grew up believing Iran to be the enemy. Even the few Iranian people I
knew called themselves Persians, so I figured being called Iranian was
like being called a cuss word. Now that I have been on Iranian soil, I
have a totally different persoective. I think the fact that Iran is
somewhat of a forbidden fruit adds another point of intrigue. After all,
as United States citizens, we have no place to call if we get in trouble
there. There is no U.S. Embassy or consulate. The only place for us to
go, in case of trouble, would be the Swiss Embassy.
Before
entering the country, we were told not to divulge our national identity
at any cost. Removing anything that would lead people to believe we were
Americans, such as California license plates, was essential because of
political and religious tensions. At first we tried to abide by this
rule, however, our policy of secrecy quickly faded as people's faces lit
up when we revealed our nationality. In many cases people would comment
on the military training they received in the U.S. (pre 1979) or would
talk of their relatives who either went to school there, live there, or
both. We were always very cordially received and needless to say we were
all well fattened as we approached the border on this day.
As a
western person, and a man specifically, I must say it was very hard to
get used to the chadors worn by the women. As I am sure was mentioned
earlier, every woman was cloaked in black from head to toe; only their
faces were exposed to any kind of sunlight. To me, as an outsider, and a
very ignorant one at that, this seemed to be a symbol of the country in
many ways. It seemed as though the whole country was cloaked similarly to
the women. There seemed to be an impalpable air of tension, as though
someone was always watching. It sometimes seemed that we made our guides
nervous by our apparent air of carelessness, such as looking at women,
wandering around by ourselves and trying to find places to get rid of our
old Pakistani money. The fear was unspoken, yet unmistakably felt. I hope
we didn't get anyone in trouble because of our nonchalance and ignorance,
and if we did I certainly apologize.
The Iranian
culture is very interesting and Persia (synonymous with Iran) as a
country has a long and interesting history. Our brief but pleasurable
stay has indeed whetted my appetite for learning, and I plan to read as
much as I can, and hopefully return one day to this wonderful and exotic
place. I give a heartfelt thanks to our guides and all who helped to give
us such an exciting first taste of Iran.
As with
previous border stops, today is low-mileage day. We drove through the
northern mountains and upon seeing Mt. Ararat, we knew we were near the
border. Because gas is 15 cents a gallon in Iran, we filled our tanks and
nearly every sealed container we could find before nearing the border. We
hoped that our fuel would not be confiscated at the border, because
sometimes limits are placed on the export of fuel. The Land Rovers each
hold about 70 gallons, but this was a chance we were willing to take. The
worst thing they could do was make us hand over the excess fuel, but
luckily this didn't happen.
Upon
approaching the border, we sighted a long line of trucks, (about 1.5-2
miles long). Hoping we did not fall into the commercial class, we took
our chances and went around this motionless line. Again, luck was on our
side. When we finally realized where to go, we found ourselves just yards
away from the official border gate. Again, the carnet thing was
difficult. Fortunately we met a friendly travel agent who took it upon
himself to help us through. Borders are lined with buildings and it is
often difficult figuring out which offices are the pertinent ones. This
man (who reminded us of C3PO with his accent, demeanor, and humor) succeeded
in ultimately getting us to the right places, and after a circuitous
chain of events, we were cleared to enter Turkey.
Doug and
Nick drove the cars into Turkey and the rest of us had to walk across the
border. Earle was not our friend today because as a Canadian, he did not
have to pay the $45 Visa fee that U.S. citizens had to pay. But we soon
got over that, especially after he lent several of us money when we did
not have enough U.S. cash. We were met at the police checkpoint by a long
line of people. We went to the shortest line and got our health check
stamp. I am not sure we needed this, since the person who gave it to us
had a weird look on his face. Besides, no one else was getting one, but
we hoped it would help us get acrossthe border. We certainly didn’t want
to leave anything to chance.
I soon
found out that we could not cross into Turkey without checking in at the
police checkpoint, which was mobbed, so I tried to push in with everyone
else. After getting thrown out twice, a young girl saw our American
passports (one Canadian), and took them through the crowd and submitted
them to the official behind the glass counter. I was hot on her heels,
emerging at the front of the line feeling like a Chinese contortion
artist. My body was being bent around six other people, two bars, a
counter, and on through a window. The police saw me, but could not hear
anything I was saying. One officer asked where our visas were, but when I
tried to communicate the fact that we needed to buy them, he couldn't hear.
It turned out that we were supposed to buy them on the other side of the
border, however we couldn't get back there without having them. Would we
be stuck together in a bureaucratic web between Iran and Turkey?
Right about
the time my back was breaking under the weight of two big guys pushing me
from behind, I saw a wonderful sight. On the other side of the glass
(which my face was smooshed against), Nick and Doug strolled into the
office. Nick and Doug saw me and started to laugh, but managed to let the
proper people know what was going on and who we were before all my
internal organs were rearranged. We were subsequently let through to buy
our visas, and without too much red tape and bureaucracy, we were on our
way into Turkey.
Mt. Ararat
was both beautiful and a sign of security, although in all our travels I
really had never needed the services of an Embassy or Consulate (except
in Pakistan). Nevertheless, it was a relief to know political protection
was there if we needed it. I never felt threatened and nearly always felt
very welcome, but having an embassy or consulate is like having Triple A,
just in case you hit a rusty nail in the road.
In the
later part of the day we drove without incident to Erzurum, Turkey, where
we had our last supper with our comrade and electrical man Earle. Earle,
we will miss you and safe journeys. See you in the States. This is Todd
signing off.
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