Day 110 (Iran): Yazd (what is a fluid?)

Yazd is one of those places that are a bit hard to appreciate.

And sometimes you have to get some refreshing coolness down below …

It is oppressively hot, but I knew that I guess. After some much-needed sleep I am up and running through the city. That run is interrupted soon though by meeting two guys - let me call them Ali I and Ali II. I meet them in one of the mosques I am taking a look at and we start to have an interesting discussion. We are joking a lot about some visitors that I would meet countless times again. They were Korean. Ali II says that they are South Korean. I agree, saying that the only North Koreans in the country might be found somewhere else - Ali II says: “Yeah, our nuclear facilities.” This goes on for a while. I mention what I do and when asked whether I want to talk to a lawyer at some point, I agree. This could be interesting. Ali I says to meet him at 9am the next morning after he puts a phone call to his friend.

I continue my stroll through this mud brick city, which is striking in many ways. You try to find shade wherever you go and the way the city is built makes this a not so hard affair.

But as with Esfahan, the place shuts down at 2pm for a few hours. I try to upload some pictures, run into an internet cafe that, while having a good line and grants access to flickr, makes it horribly difficult to actually work on the computers as they block the USB ports and only reluctantly accept my devices to transfer the files. But up they go in the end.

Towards night time I head to what is called the Towers of Silence, a place where the deceased were left by the Zoroastrians so as to not poison the earth (a major aspect of their religion). The place is eerie and the sunset beautiful in its own way (due to the dust in the air it is not as colorful as you may think it is).

I hitch a ride back - and to my surprise a car with women stops. A mother with her daughter. They are clearly liberal, the daughter’s head scarf falling off all the time. The mother speaks some good English, her grandfather is German she says and together we make our way back to the city.

At the end of the day another little episode of meet and greet. I am walking down a busy street. Someone falls into step with me, I get ready for the usual hellos and how are yous. All goes as anticipated. But the guy doesn’t move away from my side. I slow down, he slows down. I speed up a bit, he keeps pace. I stop. He stops. Nothing creepy really. The he says: “Excuse me Mr., what is a fluid?” I had seen an English language study book on him before. But what the hey? So I turn to a little water channel and point out that water is a fluid. So is gasoline and diesel. He says: “Thank you very much, Mr. Goodbye!”