....where people have hollowed out mountains to make
houses.There's one in Peru, one in Turkish Cappadocia ( where we just spent 5
days). The third is here in Kandovan, Iran and it's the only one where people
still live in the cave houses.
Cool in summer, warm in winter, cave living is a
tourist-seductive practical adaptation to Iran's climate. Ever adaptable the
Azeri people of Kandovan have added hanging electrical wires, brick extensions,
stovepipes, sliding modern glass doors and windows to their caves. I see a.sink
in one and an electric stove outside another. Many of these additions are jeopardizing a plan to
have the village designated by UNESCO as a World Heritage site, an avenue to
cultural preservation. The electrical wires will soon disappear underground.
More tourists will come. And, then?
Most of Kandovan life is still behind closed doors. I want
to watch weavers make the carpets the village is famous for, but settle for fondling the finished
products, public proof of private skill.
Some women have opened shops. Six foot four Hossein ducks to
enter a cool cave room lined with local weavings, dried herbs and 'forest
fruits'. The toddler who watches us scoop slightly dried wild plums into a
plastic bag scolds us ( or so we are told)
for taking her mother's things. She has not yet picked up her mother's
entrepreneurial spirit. Mama keeps adding plums, smiling and dumping until she
gets the sale she wants. We shrug. And pay a dollar for a hefty bag. Later, on
the road, the wrinkled but still fleshy red plums are eye-crunchingly tart
after the satiny sweetness of fresh dates.
The plums are not our only souvenirs of far northern Iran. In our backpacks are two pieces of
cloth hand colored using an ancient process much like batik, but using.thin tar
instead of wax. Hossein had heard about the only place left in Iran that makes the cloth in traditional
patterns. The last of many people we asked for directions led us to the place,
smiled, and welcomed us to Iran. Enjoy the pictures.
Later in the day, I return to She Who Must Be Obeyed for
Moon Shot Number Three. I know the drill. No finger wagging needed this time. I
detect just a hint of a smile. She delivers with accuracy. NASA would be proud.
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