The doctor looks at me and smiles: „Don’t worry, it won’t be an invasive operation. We will only sedate you a bit, and…“
„Doctor Naderi, it’s just a dislocated shoulder! Why go for a full narcosis?“
I try to change my sitting position to improve my posture and underline my willingness to lead an impactful negotiation. An immediate explosion of excessive pain from my left shoulder reminds me that no matter what I do with my posture, my current charisma will stay at the level of an overcooked potato.
„Mr. Michal, believe me. With only a local narcosis and your complex dislocation…”, the doctor lowers the tone of his voice,” … you really wouldn’t like the pain. “
I look into Doctor Naderi’s dead-serious eyes, obediently nod my head, and kindly ask the sister to take another blood sample for the anesthesiologist.
“Meow.”
“Meow.”
“MEOOOW!”
I turn around in the bed, but the voice of Princess Darya (a.k.a. the most lovely, cute, and adorable cat in the world) is too intense to continue sleeping. I put on my clothes and join Darya together with my friend (a.k.a. the most amazing person who let me use the host room in her Tehran flat) in the kitchen.
There, on the table, awaits me my first-ever-Iran-breakfast.
My first-ever-food in Iran.
Cornflakes with yoghurt.
My friend gently taps Darya on her head and says more to herself, than to anyone or anything else in the room: “Sometimes I really feel like being your roommate.”
She looks back at me and smiles.
“Did you sleep well, Michal?”
“Yes, thank you. Once again sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night and… once again thank you for not letting me die in the cold, winter streets of northern Tehran.”
“That’s OK, I knew you’d come quite late.”
I slowly crunch the cornflakes with yoghurt and smile back at her. I still can’t quite understand the randomness of this trip Me, visiting a friend in Tehran, just because we got to know each other at my friend’s wedding few months ago… and just because few weeks ago I kind of invited myself to visit her.
“What’s your recommendation for today?”, I ask her.
“Do you have anything specific on your list of things you want to do?”
“I was thinking that we just take a walk around your neighborhood so that I can get the feeling of the place. Maybe buy something to eat on the corner, maybe enjoy a lunch together, and then go back to your place. We can chill for a bit, and then I believe you mentioned that you have an appointment in the evening anyway. So I guess I just take a cab into the city, walk around, take some pics, and we can meet later in the evening at your place. Let’s not push it too much.”
“Yeah, have to meet this client of mine, sorry for not being able to spend more time with you. Then tomorrow we go skiing with my friends and then you can use the last day to go to the big bazaar and see the slightly more touristy places.”
“Sure, sounds like a plan.”
We finish the breakfast and clean up the place a bit. I put on my coat and watch my friend how she runs her fingers through few headscarves in her closet so that it fits the color and texture of her jacket and shoes.
“Iran is quite strict with the hijab, you know…”
“Yes, I know. In Saudi you would have to be in an abaya from head to toes and I would go to jail for even talking to you. I like the color combination by the way.”
We say by to Darya (who responds with a lazy “meow”) and we leave the building to find ourselves on the streets of northern Tehran – a more modern part of this multi-million city that wasn’t even built few years ago. I follow my friend to her favorite nuts place and we spend some time tasting pistachios. I end up with buying a medium-sized sack and we go on, chatting about life our temporary new homelands, Japanese bosses, food, career options, what we want to do, and where we want to be in the next weeks, months, and years.
On one of the corners, the smell of shisha catches our fancy and we decide to enter a nice looking establishment. Immediately after we sit down, a local Iran lady with a huge smile puts in front of us a basket full of bread and a basket full of fresh vegetables.
I look at my friend with a tiny question mark in my voice: “Something tells me that this is definitely not a typical shisha place.”
My friend shrugs and smiles: “I’m afraid that we shouldn’t have had our breakfast.”
We end up having a huge brunch – no mimosa and eggs benedict, but amazing lamb, tomatoes, and fresh herbs.
After a while of being able only to look outside of the window and wait until our stomachs do something with the amount of food, we come back to our senses and continue with our walk through the city – we visit the local bazaar, take a remote look at a mosque, and then slowly turn back to the apartment.
My friend quickly changes her clothes and heads again for the city center. I manage to fetch a taxi and somehow succeed to tell him to bring me to one of the huge city parks. I end up in a random place, but I don’t mind – my goal is not to see something, but to get a feel of anything in this city.
The park is pleasantly boring. People playing soccer in the park. Kids running around in an Iranian version of hide and seek. Students shouting at each other while playing ping pong. Girls and boys talking to each other. Nothing special, nothing crazy. Just the perfect setting for some candid street pictures and silent contemplation.
I leave the park and enter even more random streets of Tehran. The night starts to set in, the environment changes, and the fragrance of a wintery, yet green park gradually transforms into a fragrance of dodginess – smog with lovely traces of marihuana in the air, young couples hanging out on random places (such as sitting on thin spots of grass between roads, or sitting on the pedestrian walks on the highway bridges), all beautifully covered with a layer of random city buzz.
As I said directly after my arrival – love at first sight.
The first day in Iran is pleasantly calm – just the right amount of nothingness to gently introduce you to the city, so that you can slowly build up an image of the city without too many distortions that block you from perceiving the actual atmosphere.
I arrive back to the apartment, play a slightly monotonous game of fetch with Darya (which is actually a single-player game of throw), and go to sleep.
Tomorrow, the plan is to join a group of expat friends and enjoy the slopes north of Tehran. I heard the infrastructure is slightly weaker, but the quality of snow is delightful. Whatever that means.