Chaghaleh Badoom Birthday Gym Heater TwoGirls Ferris
Everyday I almost get killed by a biker like this one. They have a habit of going opposite the traffic, on the sidewalks and basically anywhere their smog-producing-noisy-machines can go. Over my head included.
An angle on Azadi Square, Tehran's Eiffel Tower.
"Chaghaleh Badoom" is sold on the street corners during the first few weeks of spring. It's ripe nuts -- fatty nuts to be exact. I ate so much that I think I have made up for the 14 years that I've missed eating them.
Me and my sister had a joint birthday party. In Iran they don't ask you how old you are, they ask you what year you were born, and then they do the math. So I'm a 79, my sister an 82. (57 and 60 in Iranian years)
Monthly membership at the local gym is $45. It's weird (and rather gay) not seeing any girls on the premises. This isn't the gym, just my cousin's deserted set-up in his balcony.
You turn the knob and hot water goes through the metal infrastructure and thus this heater heats up the room. We could have used this clever little invention back at the house on Laurel Canyon.
Two friends at a party.
Fun walled in. Pretty much like everything else in this town.
Roll over the image to see what the same graffiti artist had drawn on the wall across from this. Pro-Hitler punk teens know nothing about his anti-semitism, but like him for his pro-Aryan beliefs. Rather ironic if you ask me.
A view of South Shirazi street near Vanak Square.
An old Chevy Jeep Cherokee "Ahoo." A left-over of the days when Iran was USA's biggest ally in the region and American cars were being mass-produced. Their beat-up appearance well-represent the Iranian-US relations as it stands today.
Two friends reading an SMS. Everyday people mass-send jokes in the form of text messages. No wonder Iran's telephone company makes more money from text messages than Iran's state-owned television and radio makes from their ad revenues.
A cigarette butt in an office building under construction. I have to get used to everyone always smoking around me. Good old California smoke-free zones will be missed.
Its refreshing not seeing half-naked photoshoped images of girls in newsstands. These newspapers are a third about politics and daily news, third sports, and third cinema. Magazines were in a different section.
Steps of a building through a net.
The pulse of the city is in the hands of its taxi drivers.
A tele-cabin in Velenjak, north of Tehran.
A Persian carpet in the making at a workshop.
By comparison, Iranian weddings feature more dancing, more guests and more food. And they last longer.
Satellite dishes connect Iran to the outside world -- illegally. Everyone has them. If not on their roofs, in their balconies.
Drove out to the desert 700 kilometers south east of Tehran with a group of friends. Drove for a total of 1800 kilometers (about 1100 miles) in three days and visited villages and towns including Naeen, Khoor, Mesr, Ardestan, and Damghan.
Sand dunes in Dasht-e Kavir (aka. Great Salt Desert) near Mesr Village.

Dasht-e Kavir near Mesr Village.

A little bug leaving her marks in the world.
Enjoying a fire in the desert night with the rest of the 30 fellow travelers. They were a group of cool young engineers, doctors, architects and musicians which we befriended and enjoyed the company of.
Inside the 250 year old home in Garmabe village, where we stayed for two night
A villager selling us baskets and such. She informed us that all the men of her village were either gone or dead.
An ancient fortress in the desert built by Shapur I, founder of the Sassanid Empire, some 1800 years ago. It is seven stories high and features a complex set of rooms, hallways and hiding places for those interested in hide and seek.
Salt flats in the desert were specially fun for taking our cars to top speeds and attempting 360s.


A view of northern Tehran near Velenjak. The city is inching its way north. Majority of these buildings didn't exist 20 years ago.

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