slightly sarcastic travelling blog

Month: February 2017

Kilometer 12 966: on the relation between the shape of nose, the life of sheep and a wedding ceremony

Behzad started to chop minced meat. Just in case it wasn’t minced finely enough and gave me the slightest chance of separating it from the rice grains.

– That’s that – I thought –  I’m having falafel for dinner tonight…

Ben is chosing the right pickles for his falafel

Ben is chosing the right pickles for his falafel

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Kilometer 12 223: where Asia really begins and why you need to eat a date after a cucumber

Make yourself at home – every Iranian will say when inviting you over. Usually, this equals permission to unwrap yourself from the hijab. Finally! Women learn this skill from early childhood, they have their tricks, clips, style and grace. Still, without this kind of experience, to roll myself up with the huge yellow shawl, keep it in its original position, locate myself on the carpet and have some soup without placing the shawl in the plate, kicking someone else’s plate and covering the distance from the plate to my mouth with a stable and horizontal spoon is close to impossible.

The battle between hijab and wind

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Kilometer 11 531: on monogamy, lemurs and the Godfather

Mister Peter, but I want to kiss you! – Mohammad was very disappointed to learn that in Poland men’s affection is only expressed by a strong and hearty handshake. Finally, after two days, when he was already accompanying his first ever encountered Europeans, he found the courage to ask about all the issues that had been bothering him. Got to say, he didn’t like the answers too much…

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Kilometer 10 460: on pampering, carpets and Mister Reza

Stretch your back and arms. It’s comfy sleeping on the fluffy carpet, right? Rays of sun are falling through the window, a branch of a handsome cherry tree tired after the summer is knocking on your window. The smell of saffron, sesame seeds and raisins is coming from the kitchen. Stretch again and purr contently… Oh, how they spoil you here!

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Kilometer 9873: taarof aka the Iranian gradmas’ ways to feed the grandkids

As an honest human being, Piotrek came to the bus driver to pay. The driver smiled, smacked his lips, swayed his head and turned the money down.

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Kilometer 9687: of canaries and pigeons

– We Iranians, we live a simple and modest life. – Ali said turning left to the luxury apartment district. I’m sorry, did I say “apartment”? I meant pension houses ready to accommodate four generations of a large family.

A half of living room no. 6 in one of the many Shah's palaces. Living rooms in private homes look exactly the same.

A half of living room no. 6 in one of the many Shah’s palaces. Living rooms in private homes look exactly the same.

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