With no fears and no expectations, that’s how I went to Iran in 2014, my first time in ancient Persia.
I landed in Tehran, the capital, and a few hours later I had the certainty that everything in the international media was entirely different from reality. I always talk about how fascinated I felt, and I still feel every time I return, about the people of Iran. I lived something that is difficult to express in words, I was received in a unique way, so genuine and pure, by all those with whom I crossed, something that had never happened to me in any of the other places I had been through.
After being already settled in this way of life, which was relatively easy, since it is very similar to the Portuguese culture, I went to Kurdistan. Kurdistan is an area that occupies part of Turkey, Syria, Iraq and, of course, Iran. I went to the small village of Palangan, full of stone houses in the middle of the mountains. I got to know Palangan through some photographs, and that awoke in me the desire to spend a few days there.
In Palangan no one speaks English. People take care of the animals, work for the building, and at some small shops. Life allows frequent pauses to drink tea and smoke shisha, it is really calm. I stayed for three days, ate with several families, and drank tea in almost every house. I was also “adopted” by Kavh and his family, the wife, Paveh, and little Katea, two years old. I won a family and a little sister, with whom I shared some of the best moments of my trip. I was mainly playing with Katea, in an age where language is not yet a barrier.
In 2014, with Kavh’s family in Palangan (credit: Fábio Inácio)
The day I left, they gave me their address on a paper. I realised that they wanted one of the many photographs I took in those days, but I never sent it. I returned to Iran a few times, but always without time to go back to Palangan.
Until I decided to spend the first month of 2019 in Iran, in Isfahan, which I never get tired of referring to as one of the most beautiful cities I know. This time I came determined, I was going back to Palangan. It took me a few hours to arrive, and there I was, five years later, in one of the places in the world that struck me most.
The village grew, there are more houses at the top, plus one or two shops as well as rooms for rent to tourists.
Even before reaching the village centre, I recognised a gentleman who I had photographed five years earlier with his family. Luckily I also had this picture with me, and the party was huge. There it was, the round of teas throughout the houses of the village all over again. I spent a few hours playing and training my Farsi with the 3 daughters of the couple.
Later I went to look for “my” family. It is impossible to hide that I felt nervous, did they still have some memories of me? Would they recognise me? I went on the street asking what the house was until Katea, my sister, now aged seven appeared at one of the doors. Of course, she had no idea who I was. Paveh also came to the street and initially did not recognise me either, but upon seeing the photo, and after thinking for a few moments, said:
– Fábio?!
My heart stopped, it was undoubtedly another moment that I will never forget. She asked me to come in, but I refused once that I realised her husband had not yet returned from work
Only the next day I meet them again, and my time was divided between helping Katea with schoolwork, playing, seeing pictures and running around the street. Other children joined us, I drank a few more teas, and it was time to return to Isfahan. I left happily, heart full. Going back to Palangan, seeing the same faces, the same joy for simple things, the same sympathy, was once again incredible. Will be back!
