Day 132 (Iran): rest day in Mashhad I (shrine of Imam Reza: Darwin was right - survival of the fittest)

Note: There are many pictures on the flickr site, head over there for more impressions.

I thought about another heading: Tehran traffic inside the shrine of Imam Reza. But one thing after the other. We got out earlyish. We, meaning Reza driving Cyrielle, Ludovic and myself into town, close to the shrine of Imam Reza. We made our way there and were intercepted right off the bat. Not a good start. The area is guarded heavily after a bombing a few years back. We had to leave our bags behind and then were escorted to what is referred to as Guidance Office for Foreign Pilgrims aka Control over Foreign Elements Agency.

We are shown a video (which I didn’t want to watch, but rather would have liked to be amazed by the real stuff) and then had to sign in. We were also given some propaganda … (most pretty innocuous, trying to convert you to be a Muslim, but ranging to the nasty I should say, particularly the magazine on the right here).

We get a guide to lead us to the museum (well, forced upon us is a better term). We are told not to go to the shrine as we are not Muslims. Everyone had told us to say yes and go ahead anyway, so we were going to give it a shot. Here are a few shots of the museum, a strange amalgamation of items. It all ranges from the bizarre to the disgusting.

The shrine belongs to a charity which in turn owns 90% the province of Khorestan - or so I hear. It is immensely rich, people donate money at this site like crazy (hence this picture, Martin). There are truck loads full of money that leave the place every day I hear, small wonder given that last year the place attracted 22 million visitors. It is the most important pilgrimage site for Shia. Essentially, the organization functions like a state within a state.

On the way in, we were controlled for cameras and other items. For some reason, my little camera escaped the control (it wasn’t overly difficult) and with all the picture cell phones in use, the rule itself makes little sense as far as I am concerned. Hence the pictures in this post.

So, the three of us decided to split up and each would try to get into the shrine. Cyrielle, wearing a chador should have no problems. Not recognizable as a Western woman. Ludovic with his beard was made fun of as being from Afghanistan anyway. I on the other hand was a bit of a liability. I stood out big time and couldn’t really pass for the traditional picture of a Muslim (if there is such a thing). But, I shouldn’t have worried. Walk in, walk out type of deal. You go with the crowds, stay a bit away from the people standing at the entrances and that’s it. There is no real control anyway and it couldn’t be strict even if someone wanted it to be strict. The number of people would simply not allow that. You proceed from one large room to the next, each of which is more glittery and decorated than the one before. Then, you finally get to it. And it feels like Tehran in rush hour. The place is insane. Nothing short of insane. Everyone is trying to get a hold of a silver cage under which the tomb is located. 10m below that is. So, people are trying every which way to get there, pushing and showing at their hearts’ delight and showing little concern for others. Like Tehran (and Mashhad) city traffic.

Interestingly enough, the women’s side is even more chaotic. The sea of chadors was in a constant state of flux. Elbows were thrown everywhere, the wardens on the other side of a glass barrier had a hard time keeping things under control. That to me is not what religion is about. Compassion? Forget it. It’s all Darwin at that moment. And despite all this, it is a powerful and moving place. The intensity of the place is palpable. The martyrdom metaphor so often heard and associated with the Imams makes many a person cry and sob in front of the silver cage. No one is the least bit put off by someone’s display of emotion. I must admit that the place held some fascination for me - not so much for the spirituality of the place (I am lacking the basics on knowing enough about Imam Reza and his importance for Shia religion), but rather the behavior and intensity with which people approached the place. This to me was the most fascinating aspect of the visit.

We all left the tomb area and wondered around a bit more throughout the afternoon (and yes, it’s worth checking out the names of the perfumes on this next picture).

After bidding our goodbyes from Cyrielle and Ludovic (who were getting on a grueling and long bus ride to Yazd), Reza and I made our way back home where Reza’s mother had prepared a wonderful meal to finish off the day.