To the Heart of Zoroastrianism

The Imam Mosque on Naqsh-e Jahan Square had been closed during the last two days, meaning that this morning was my only chance of seeing it after 15 years.  I left the hotel by foot at 0830 for the 0900 opening and I seem to be getting faster each time by knowing the route and short-cuts better.

I was disappointed to see scaffolds galore inside.  However, I was still able to appreciate its beauty.  I later learnt that the mosque is decorated with painted tiles (bearing the patterns) which are then assembled on the surfaces.  This is an inferior but faster technique compared to a mosaic technique where all the patterns are cut to shape and assembled to form the overall design.  Apart from the issue of speed and ease, the former does allow more colours whereas the latter is more limited.

Despite inferior technique, the acoustics here were amazing.  I could here the clear magnification of my voice as I stood in the centre of the mosque and said something.  When I was far away later, I heard someone softly calling out the Azan … it just carried through the entire courtyard beautifully.

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Back in the hotel packing and having a snack of muesli and yoghurt, I felt good that I had done everything I had wanted.  There was a slight regret that I hadn’t been to the Pigeon Tower but I later realised that I had been to one in Yazd about 13 years ago; my memory is failing me.  As for the Fire Temple it involves a hike up for not much to see, I understand.

Checking out at 1100 the hotel receptionist told me the best way to the Kave station was by metro from the station directly across the hotel.  The station didn’t look quite operational with no proper signage and ticket machines/desk.  The security staff were nice and they let me in without a ticket!  It appeared to be a new station as the others en route were definitely more established and “normal”.

I got to the Kave bus terminal around 1130 and bowled up to a random one of the many bus companies.  I got myself a ticket for a bus leaving ten minutes later; the downside of such immediate departures is getting a seat down the back.

The bus left at 1145 rather empty only to fill up completely an hour later at a station on the edge of town before continuing the five hour journey to Yazd.  There was no toilet or rest stop.  Even though I had visited the loo just before departure, I had to hold on till arrival at 1700 in Yazd, the heart of the ancient Zoroastrian religion of Persia.

I took a taxi to Dalan-e Behesht Hotel, the cheapest I could find in the old city with a private bathroom.  I was given a room with three single beds, I thought I had been assigned a dorm.  Well, the entire room was for me!  I could have booked a dorm and had the whole place to myself too!

After a brief rest, I ordered dinner at 1800.  Having skipped lunch, I was very ready for it.  It was delivered from a nearby restaurant on motorbike by someone with a card payment terminal in hand!  Iran, while isolated, is actually quite up-to-date with electronic payments.

I walked off my yummy big dinner of fesenjan (stew wtih walnut and pomegranate sauce).  I turned the wrong way on the main street and headed in the wrong direction for about 10 minutes before realising.  I corrected myself and continued to the city’s main square where I found the zurkhaneh.

It was starting in about 30 minutes at 2100 (modified timing for Ramadhan), so it made sense to wander around and attend it tonight.  The venue was in a building  housing a water cistern at the bottom-most level.  The zurkhaneh itself was held in a higher basement level.

Zurkhaneh is a Persian sports that’s like weight-training, aerobics and spirituality all rolled into one.  The spiritual element involves chanting, drumming and bells.  It is very captivating to watch and the hour went quickly.

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Exploring the old city after 2200, I realise that Yazd has become very touristy in the last 13 years, mainly with domestic tourists.  I heard a voice call out my name and realised it was Mikel and Puri whom I had met in Kashan and travelled together to Esfahan.  I declined their offer for ice cream and returned to the hotel to finish off the salad that I couldn’t fit-in for my dinner earlier.