Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
coerce this country into compliance? In the past, other powerful nations
have underestimated Iran's willingness to be pulverized in a war to defend
its ideals...and both Iran and their enemies have paid the price.
I have to believe that smart and determined diplomacy can keep the
Iranians—and us—from having to build giant new cemeteries for the next
generation's war dead. h at doesn't mean “giving in” to Iran...it means acknowl-
edging that war is a failure and we'd be wise to i nd an alternative.
Back to Europe: Tight Pants, Necklines, Booze…
and Freedom
My l ight out of Iran was scheduled for 3 a.m. For whatever reason, planes
leaving for the West depart in the wee hours. h e TV crew had caught
an earlier l ight, Seyed had gone home, and I was groggy and alone in the
terminal.
Finally walking down the jetway toward my Air France plane, I saw
busty French l ight attendants—hair l owing freely—greeting passengers
at the door. It was as if the plane was a lifeboat, and they were pulling us
back to the safety of the West. People entered with a sigh of relief, women
pulled of their scarves...and suddenly we were free to be what we considered
“normal.” h e jet lifted of , l ying the exact opposite route the Ayatollah had
traveled to succeed the Shah.
For 12 days, I'd been out of my comfort zone, in a land where people live
under a theocracy. I tasted not a drop of alcohol, and I never encountered a
urinal. Women were not to show the shape of their body or their hair (and
were beautiful nevertheless). It was a land where people took photos of me,
as if
I
were the cultural spectacle.
Landing in Paris was reverse culture shock. I sipped wine like it was
heaven-sent. I noticed hair, necklines, and the curves revealed by tight
pants like never before. University students sat at outdoor cafés, men and
women mingling together as they discussed whatever hot-button issue
interested them. After the Valium-paced lifestyle of Iran, I felt an energy
and ei ciency cranked up on high. People were free to be “evil” and able
to express their joy any way they wanted. And, standing before that i rst
urinal, I was thankful to be a Westerner. I was grateful for the learning
experience that gave simple things—from visiting the men's room to deal-
ing with trai c jams, from valuing nonconformity to respecting women—a
broader cultural context.
