Kylie’s first 3 days in Iran (golly, I’m still alive!)

Kylie’s first 3 days in Iran (golly, I’m still alive!)

Wow. That was some ride. Let’s start from the beginning.

Saying goodbye at the airport in Adelaide was hard, but kind of exciting at the same time. The first flight was a little anti-climatic, actually. Adelaide to Sydney was an easy two hours in the air. (I love QANTAS food). A very tense wait in the transit lounge preceded a very simple customs walk through, followed by a 9 hour flight to Bangkok, Thailand with a lovely Scottish couple going home for the first time in 30 years.

I got into Bangkok and realized that there was going to be absolutely nothing to do for the next 9 hours. I was too afraid to leave the airport, especially considering I arrived at 11.30pm on Saturday night! I walked around a lot, changed some cash to ‘baht’ and ate lentil soup, and generally wasted time. I slept rather awkwardly on the chairs for a couple of hours before dusting myself off and heading for the transit desk about 7am.

“Oh, you’re going to Tehran? Where is your return ticket please?”

“My what?”

Even though there had been ABSOLUTELY no mention of requiring a return ticket to enter the country, not from the embassy, not from the people who organized my visa, not from ANYONE, Etihad Airlines insisted that I required a flight out of Iran before they would let me on the plane. Period. No negotiations. Well, that was the end of me. I’m not too proud to say that I lost my shit right then and there. I was so tired, and I honestly thought I had everything organized, and to be half-way from nowhere to be told ‘no’. No further. I was gutted. And I had no idea what to do next.

I think the lady ended up taking pity on me. (I was a pretty big mess by then). She checked how much money I had on me and helped me to swap it to baht, and purchase a return ticket back to Bangkok for the 21^st of June. It was the only option I had. It’s also cleaned me out. But, the end result of purchasing that ticket means I can write to you from the AIESEC office in Tehran.

The 6 hours from Bangkok to Abu Dhabi went quickly. The plane was decked out to the 9’s. I thought it was business class, but it kept going all the way to the back of the plane! I had a row to myself, so a stretched out, watched movies and slept. Two hours in Abu Dhabi, and onto the last flight of the journey. By then, I was such a nervous wreck. Would they let me through customs? Had I really got everything in order? What happens if I get knocked back there? In the end, Customs took 15 minutes, they did not ask to see any bloody return ticket at all, I got a stamp in my passport, and ta-da, I’m in Iran.

I was met by Saman MCPe (my boss) and Alireza MCP (the current boss).We got a taxi back to an AIESECer’s place and chilled out for a while. All the way from the airport to Hojat’s place, I was jumping and tensing at every moment, because of that crazy driving. I’m going to sit in the front one day and film some of it so you can see what I’m talking about!

I was taken out for a fantastic traditional Iranian dinner, and finally went home to sleep.

The last couple of days have been pretty cool. Tehran is huge. It’s inconceivable. You have to take a taxi everywhere. There’s no ‘ducking down to the shops’ here. Or if there is, you take a taxi! I’ve been at the AIESEC office at the University of Tehran most of the time, just doing ‘stuff’. Neda (MCVPX) took me out to help me buy a manteau (the coat all the girls are required to wear here). It was majorly stressful, because you might know that I hate shopping at the best of times. It was like shopping at Supre at sale time, in 40 degree heat. But we triumphed in the end, and I’m much cooler now, wearing this lovely pale green coat.

I certainly learned something today, and that is: “Culture shock is a. not just something that happens to other people, and b. shit.”

I thought I was doing just fine, you know? Going with the flow, enjoying everything. But, little tiny things started to build up without me noticing. There’s no toilet paper here, for example. There’s hoses in every cubicle instead. I have to blow my nose every two seconds because I have a cold, and I keep running out of tissues. The pollution is something out of a movie. My hijab never sits straight, and it’s clear I’m a foreigner. I was having a bit of trouble writing a session outline, and managed to totally misunderstand the brief. Just add saying ‘please’ (lotfan) instead of ‘thankyou’ (merci) at the end of transactions, and you’ve got a girl who’s had it. Tears over lunch followed, but everything is much better now (promise!) I’m sure it’s just going to take a bit of getting used to.

This has turned into a novel, so I’ll come back later to tell you some more. Xoxo.