4 - Years In Tehran

I came to Iran to survive an assignment. I leave with a second soul. The smog, the traffic, the taarof , the poetry—they are not obstacles. They are the curriculum.

If you ever get the chance to spend four years in Tehran, take it. Just bring a good mask, an open heart, and zero expectations. 4 Years In Tehran

I learned that a "house party" in Tehran is the most vibrant cultural event on earth. Young women slip off their manteaus inside the door, revealing glittering dresses underneath. The music switches from state TV dirges to underground hip-hop. We danced until dawn in a garden in Tajrish. Nobody talked politics. We talked about love, failure, and the best kebab koobideh in town. In the West, we party to escape life. In Tehran, they party to prove life. Year three was the year the external pressure became visceral. The Economic Whiplash I watched the Iranian rial fall off a cliff. When I arrived, a fancy latte cost roughly 60,000 tomans. By year three, the same latte was 350,000 tomans. You carried bricks of cash in your backpack just to buy chicken. I came to Iran to survive an assignment