my observations

This is a place to share my short stories of real emotions from my point of view

my observations

This is a place to share my short stories of real emotions from my point of view

۲ مطلب با کلمه‌ی کلیدی «travel story» ثبت شده است

Do you want to go to Sistan & Balouchestan?

By hitchhiking? backpacking?

This is the most deprived province in Iran. Do not you know it is border with Pakistan and most of them are armed and smuggler?

They might rape you!

You are not aware of their language and it is not clear you can get to your destination at all!

I had to go and realize the word "most deprived". I had to go to witness their lifestyle. They are Sunnite, I should know what is the difference between us and them. If I do not go, maybe no other time can go.

It has been two days since I stepped on an unknown journey. I have passed from Shiraz to Bandar Abbas . From Minab, Sirik and Jask ports and accompany with human beings and their stories. From Mousa and his spouse who had just labored and welcomed me to Karim who was been my host.

On the third day of trip, I have an unquenchable thirst to see Darak village, where is equal with Namibian desert in Africa; the confluence of desert with the ocean. The point where the Persian Gulf is over and the Indian ocean crosses.

The story of  Mehrdad who took me from Jask to Darak. He said that he had seen me on Minab's road, but he could not trust me. However, when he has seen me in Jask again, he has necessitated to take me. he said "my sense told me that seeing this tourist two times would send me a message, I must rely on". I had kept him company with narrative of his life within four hours of his driving. He said that he had come to Jask for helping students. The banana forms of Zarabad are the main remarkable sign of Darak.

We arriveded at the confluence of the desert and the ocean. He had to come back and I was affected by him and cheerful due to reach one of my destinations. The mullah of Darak who was called Morad welcomed me. Despite of Shiite mosques, Sunni mosques were open to all travelers all day and night. He invited me into his home, a humble-two-room house with the least amenities and I were faced with the umpteenth signs of kindness of somehow different people. Leader of village Saeid took highly eager me to the beach. we traverse sandy desert with its ups and downs.

"Look! The ocean, I see", I said. This was not mirage, I had really reached that.

Imagine desert brown, the single palm green with its brown trunk and ocean blue. A combination of minimalism and surrealism in a real world.

After two hours, the night came and we lied down on the chilly sandy desert and we stared in the silence of the night at the stars.

Actually, wearing the customary dress of Balouch women and drawing a design by Henna on my hands were not the end of my trip.

Tang village, Martian mountains and rocky beaches are waiting for me. Have to go!

Next day, I went to Tang by hitchhike saw for just a few hours and after that my trip continues to Chabahar. Amin with his family were my host in this city.

"How are Lipar (Pink) lake, Beris port willage and Martian mountains", I asked his family. Just I shall go!

From the boy who plays folklore instrument to the women who earn income by collection salt surrounded Pink lake, and cameleers in the desolate and howling wilderness in the vicinity of the Martian mountains.

From traditional school (Maktab Khaneh) of Beris to its tourism-rocky braches. From our hitchhike by tourism bus to sleep under cameleers' hut and their reception by the only thing had been; tea.

Getting closer to time of return.

I review my hitchhike about 1324 km to the strangest zone of Iran and the word of "deprived" change. A few tangible assets along with extraordinary intellectual ones. They were endlessly kind and sympathetic, they possess the most distinctive nature. The sky was hard in rain, but the people were attempting to be good-humored. To discover the major meaning of every single word need to travel! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

۰ نظر موافقین ۰ مخالفین ۰ ۰۵ خرداد ۹۹ ، ۰۰:۲۶
مریم فارسی

The weather is rainy in Shiraz and after three months compulsory staying at home because of my backache, I would like to go to Hafezieh tomb in this nice weather and I can imagine how spectacular is Hafezieh in these moments. I went there and after trying to take some rainy pictures, I talked with my French friend and sent him my videos and pictures. After his expressing his happiness from the rainy weather, he tells me that it is good news and I can realize your pleasure about this rain. He says that the rain comes down once every two days in here (Paris). He sends me a laugh sticker and continues I can guess if you were in here, you would enjoy this weather.

 

This smile mekes me think and reminds me a few days ago, when I had talked to Samaneh about the kind of air which has left over, also waters, rivers and seas that will be over. A freedom which we should not  seek it 

After a while, I ask her what about Tehran? Is ir rainy too? And she answers me that all time which she had talked to me, she had walked under drizzling and fine rain!

 

After a second, I tell her Pity! There is no more winter in Iran. And the condition of Shiraz is really more poor than every where, the drough will be certain...

 

I remember the dreams that we have made together, I remember we have made a date for early August to travel with our backpacks and  breath some where in a good weather. I remember I have told her to find out Zermatt and Materhorne mountain.

 

I think we had tried to go back to our dreams and had promised ourself  to dreams' substantiating. They were the only things that were still alive in their season and we could breath them.

۰ نظر موافقین ۰ مخالفین ۰ ۱۳ اسفند ۹۸ ، ۲۱:۰۴
مریم فارسی