Saturday, October 06, 2007
Have I Said Too Much or Not Enough?
I always have to wonder to when what I've said is too much or whether I should have said more. It's important to be demanding of your words since they give meaning to your little world, your "Persona".
During the past 170 posts, I spent most of my time of it writing from my little white-washed, paint-chipped room in Tehran. I always sat in front of the window because I could let the breeze in during the hot summer and hear the people outside (which could have been anyone from the guy screaming and yelling things about vegetables and used fridges or a couple of kids beating each other up). Sensory overload made me happy.
In fact, the entire experience was a sensory overload, until I slowly felt myself giving way to that little existence that I had. Slowly seeing myself as living within the society, rather than on the outside and only fluttering in to do my groceries, or get my hair done. That feeling isn't gone, but I am back home now. Or, rather, one of my homes.
You know the song-of course you do!- "I left my heart in San Francisco"? Well...I did...but I left my Soul in Tehran.
Apparently, this isn't a good thing, but it can't be helped. I'll be studying for at least two more years and then I'm free as a bird (or a plane, to be more precise). Hopefully, I'll have learned enough during the two or so years with blogging, media, and film to be able to pass my time chronicling events while I'm in Tehran again.
But I was in Tehran recently, over the past few years, and it was some of the most inspiring experiences I've had there. My first time in Tehran was mind-boggling, I didn't understand a thing and I always got jipped at the stores and was afraid to even step near anyone for fear that they'd all of a sudden start screaming Koranic verses at me for thinking that I didn't like to wear a scarf in 100 degree weather and I didn't want to believe in the Newspapers or the Religious Elite (is Elite a good word here? It would be more acceptable to say the Religious Majority).
I should write more later. Hopefully, I'll be able to do justice to my experiences here. And, in a way, I think many of the bloggers here are all Edward Shirleys...except that they are a chorus of Shirleys and the lead role is missing. But, in time, I think people will realize that we don't need someone to save Iran, or someone to lead Iran to the gates of golden-washed glittery "Democracy Express Mail". Rather, Iran needs lead ROLES. Leaders. Many of them, and one day I can go back there without having to worry about the length of my manteau but rather the virtues of my actions!
Anyway. Back to the books and I'm glad I can finally write down all that I went through. Should be interesting to read it,myself, even if it sounds corny.
:)
During the past 170 posts, I spent most of my time of it writing from my little white-washed, paint-chipped room in Tehran. I always sat in front of the window because I could let the breeze in during the hot summer and hear the people outside (which could have been anyone from the guy screaming and yelling things about vegetables and used fridges or a couple of kids beating each other up). Sensory overload made me happy.
In fact, the entire experience was a sensory overload, until I slowly felt myself giving way to that little existence that I had. Slowly seeing myself as living within the society, rather than on the outside and only fluttering in to do my groceries, or get my hair done. That feeling isn't gone, but I am back home now. Or, rather, one of my homes.
You know the song-of course you do!- "I left my heart in San Francisco"? Well...I did...but I left my Soul in Tehran.
Apparently, this isn't a good thing, but it can't be helped. I'll be studying for at least two more years and then I'm free as a bird (or a plane, to be more precise). Hopefully, I'll have learned enough during the two or so years with blogging, media, and film to be able to pass my time chronicling events while I'm in Tehran again.
But I was in Tehran recently, over the past few years, and it was some of the most inspiring experiences I've had there. My first time in Tehran was mind-boggling, I didn't understand a thing and I always got jipped at the stores and was afraid to even step near anyone for fear that they'd all of a sudden start screaming Koranic verses at me for thinking that I didn't like to wear a scarf in 100 degree weather and I didn't want to believe in the Newspapers or the Religious Elite (is Elite a good word here? It would be more acceptable to say the Religious Majority).
I should write more later. Hopefully, I'll be able to do justice to my experiences here. And, in a way, I think many of the bloggers here are all Edward Shirleys...except that they are a chorus of Shirleys and the lead role is missing. But, in time, I think people will realize that we don't need someone to save Iran, or someone to lead Iran to the gates of golden-washed glittery "Democracy Express Mail". Rather, Iran needs lead ROLES. Leaders. Many of them, and one day I can go back there without having to worry about the length of my manteau but rather the virtues of my actions!
Anyway. Back to the books and I'm glad I can finally write down all that I went through. Should be interesting to read it,myself, even if it sounds corny.
:)
