I am waiting in the warm observation lounge of the Shiraz Airport. My 1240h flight has been delayed due to snow in Tehran. This is one delay I did not anticipate.
Maintaining this journal is beginning to take on a life of its own. I don’t know what will become of it. It will only move beyond the personal once it is transcribed from my unreadable long hand. My experiences have been so full since arriving in Iran, that it has been difficult to be current with my writing. Last night I put down point form notes of my previous three days in Esfahan and Shiraz. Presented with an “ocean” of time sitting in this airport I will endeavour to transform the notes.
My experience in Iran is transformed and enriched with Masoud, my friend, guide, and interpreter extraordinaire. Not only does he explain the details of what I observe, such as the coupon line-ups for food rations, he spends hours in discussion with me nightly, explaining the revolution, the intricacies of daily life, the yearnings of the young people and so much more.