Tuesday, 30 October 2007
The Beach
We left Anatolia for the Mediterranean. What a change. Nights are warm again, mosquitoes greedy for a night company. The beaches south of Iskenderun are wild and empty. They could look Croatian if not for few minarets peering over olive trees. They are too out-of-the-way from major airports for tourists to occupy them. We didn’t mind. Hence we spent three nights on different beaches, swimming, reading and barbecuing. Short trip break after fasting in Iran and before entering the buzz of Syria.
Towed away in Sanlıurfa
We have stayed three days in this city of Abraham, who according to the local legend was born in a cave not far from the famous fishponds. The true history might be well different. We came to Sanlıurfa to enjoy the quiet yard of the bazaar that is for a change not hectic and to celebrate my birthday in a more luxurious environment that Shlakiyah could offer.
When we woke up in the morning the street in front of our hotel was fenced with police tape. There were some cars parked behind and some motorcycles in front of Shlakiyah. We could not get out. Later streets were filled with police forces carrying a lot of tear gas guns. ˝We are preparing for the afternoon demonstrations.˝ ˝Against what? ˝ ˝Against PKK killing Turkish soldiers.˝ Shlakiyah got towed away from the parking on the street. Apparently it was considered a terrorist threat. We got it back for 40 EUR paid straight to police pockets. They were extremely arrogant. The officer in charge didn’t want to identify himself nor issue us a proof of payment. We wanted to complain but there is no tourist police in a place like Sanlıurfa. Tourism in Turkey is not always as presented in the Berlin fair.
Then we heard the demonstrations. Ridiculous! The only demonstrating were school kids who were probably ordered to join. It reminded us very much of the staged Qod’s day demonstrations in Iran. The locals couldn’t be bothered. Some people told me demonstrators are ignorant.
When we woke up in the morning the street in front of our hotel was fenced with police tape. There were some cars parked behind and some motorcycles in front of Shlakiyah. We could not get out. Later streets were filled with police forces carrying a lot of tear gas guns. ˝We are preparing for the afternoon demonstrations.˝ ˝Against what? ˝ ˝Against PKK killing Turkish soldiers.˝ Shlakiyah got towed away from the parking on the street. Apparently it was considered a terrorist threat. We got it back for 40 EUR paid straight to police pockets. They were extremely arrogant. The officer in charge didn’t want to identify himself nor issue us a proof of payment. We wanted to complain but there is no tourist police in a place like Sanlıurfa. Tourism in Turkey is not always as presented in the Berlin fair.
Then we heard the demonstrations. Ridiculous! The only demonstrating were school kids who were probably ordered to join. It reminded us very much of the staged Qod’s day demonstrations in Iran. The locals couldn’t be bothered. Some people told me demonstrators are ignorant.
Thursday, 25 October 2007
Tur Abdin
Syriac Orthodox Church split from the Byzantine back in 451 due to different interpretations of the divine nature of Christ. Due to persecutions by the Byzantines the Suriani fled Antioch and retreated into obscure hills of the Tur Abdin between Midyat and Mardin. Monks in three hundred hidden monasteries successfully maintained the ancient liturgies in Aramaic, the language of Christ. Late Ottoman history annihilated thousands of Anatolian Suriani in a similar way as it did Armenians. Now there are only a few thousand left, plus few dozen monks and nuns in five remaining monasteries.
We visited two. Deir ez Zafferan and Mar Gabriel. They are completely restored and look new, though they were build in fifth century. The restorations are paid by Suriani diaspora, mainly living in Germany, Sweden, and Switzerland. Along with money the diaspora also sends their sons to attend classes in Aramaic liturgy, to help monks harvest pistachio trees, and to explain visitors that accepting Turks to EU would be a suicide.
One of the boys took us to a sanctuary hidden behind a small chapel. It was where Mar Gabriel, a great ascetic, punished his flesh to liberate his soul and to get closer to God. I tried it out. It is a narrow slit in the wall, where he would spend months standing up. As in From the Holy Mountain: ˝Mar Gabriel used to say no slave should sit or lie down in the presence of his master, and that as he was always in the presence of his Lord he should always stand up.˝ After the claustrophobic sightseeing the parish invited us for lunch and to camp in their gardens. Eating cold spaghetti in a Suriani monastery was an interesting travel experience.
We visited two. Deir ez Zafferan and Mar Gabriel. They are completely restored and look new, though they were build in fifth century. The restorations are paid by Suriani diaspora, mainly living in Germany, Sweden, and Switzerland. Along with money the diaspora also sends their sons to attend classes in Aramaic liturgy, to help monks harvest pistachio trees, and to explain visitors that accepting Turks to EU would be a suicide.
One of the boys took us to a sanctuary hidden behind a small chapel. It was where Mar Gabriel, a great ascetic, punished his flesh to liberate his soul and to get closer to God. I tried it out. It is a narrow slit in the wall, where he would spend months standing up. As in From the Holy Mountain: ˝Mar Gabriel used to say no slave should sit or lie down in the presence of his master, and that as he was always in the presence of his Lord he should always stand up.˝ After the claustrophobic sightseeing the parish invited us for lunch and to camp in their gardens. Eating cold spaghetti in a Suriani monastery was an interesting travel experience.
Camping with the ancestors
We drove into ancient Mesopotamia and reached the upper part of the Tigris river. Following a dirt road off the highway we came to the sandbanks and set camp there. The river was only about 20-30 meters wide here and on the other side was a hundred meter rock wall of red and grey sandstone, eroded by the water. A man picking up fishing nets quickly disappeared when we approached. We were alone except for the cows drinking on the other side, coming down a small pass in the rock wall. We made a barbecue and as the sun set we fed the fire with twisted branches and stared into the flames as people must have done here for thousands of years. The only thing spoiling the illusion of living the life of the first civilization was our yellow-striped aluminium chairs and the distant echo of the traffic reflected by the rock wall.
Southeastern Anatolia
Driving in southeastern Anatolia is not as relaxed as in Iran due to recent events on the Turkish-Iraqi border. There has been an increased tension between the PKK and Turkish authorities. We experienced a lot of unpleasant military road checkpoints and rushed through as soon as possible. People here are mainly Kurds and very hospitable. Highlights of transiting the region were a visit to the Ishak Pasha palace accompanied by a first cold beer after Iran, swimming in Van lake, driving Shlakiyah in the crater of the inactive Nemrut volcano, barbecuing on the banks of Tigris river in Hasankeyf, and visiting Syrian orthodox monasteries in Tur Abdin.
Iran from a distance
Looking back at the time in Iran – four weeks altogether, I realize that the deepest impression was made by all the people we met. The people of Iran must be it’s biggest tourism resource, they are extremely hospitable and helpful, I will mention some of them but (maybe paranoia) it could possibly be bad for them to be connected with this blog and therefore I have left out their full names and there are no photos.
First we met H. on the streets of Isfahan. He instantly asked us to go for a drink, then eventually invited us to his friends in the evenings that followed. It was very interesting to meet this crowd as they are very critical about the government, very non-religious and tries to live a western life as far as it is possible, they had vodka bottles in their kitchens and the girls instantly took of their hijab as soon as we came in. H. said that Islam is against happiness, “How can you forbid dancing” he said, “small children dance when they hear music, dancing is life!”
In Isfahan we also met Dr. T. he is equally friendly and equally against the government but deeply religious. His wife never took of her veil in front of Peter, even his daughter who seven years old had a scarf. Dr. T. drove us around to show all the monuments and holy places of Isfahan, for example the martyr cemetery where boys and men who died in the Iran-Iraq war are buried. He invited us to his house and we spent a night and several dinners with the family.
As we arrived in Shiraz we called a friend of a friend, Z. and she showed up with a rose for us and the news that she had taken two days off to show us Shiraz. Then followed a sightseeing frenzy that ended with us visiting more attractions in two days than we did in Isfahan in eight. Z. is also very Islamic and strictly kept the Ramadan fast, this means she didn’t even drink water during the day when we rushed through the hot and sunny gardens, museums and famous tombs of Shiraz. Z. makes half the money we do when working but she insisted on paying entrance fees and taxis. When we gave her a goodbye present she nearly cried.
I wish these people along with everyone else we met can make a brighter future in the multilayered Islamic Republic of Iran.
First we met H. on the streets of Isfahan. He instantly asked us to go for a drink, then eventually invited us to his friends in the evenings that followed. It was very interesting to meet this crowd as they are very critical about the government, very non-religious and tries to live a western life as far as it is possible, they had vodka bottles in their kitchens and the girls instantly took of their hijab as soon as we came in. H. said that Islam is against happiness, “How can you forbid dancing” he said, “small children dance when they hear music, dancing is life!”
In Isfahan we also met Dr. T. he is equally friendly and equally against the government but deeply religious. His wife never took of her veil in front of Peter, even his daughter who seven years old had a scarf. Dr. T. drove us around to show all the monuments and holy places of Isfahan, for example the martyr cemetery where boys and men who died in the Iran-Iraq war are buried. He invited us to his house and we spent a night and several dinners with the family.
As we arrived in Shiraz we called a friend of a friend, Z. and she showed up with a rose for us and the news that she had taken two days off to show us Shiraz. Then followed a sightseeing frenzy that ended with us visiting more attractions in two days than we did in Isfahan in eight. Z. is also very Islamic and strictly kept the Ramadan fast, this means she didn’t even drink water during the day when we rushed through the hot and sunny gardens, museums and famous tombs of Shiraz. Z. makes half the money we do when working but she insisted on paying entrance fees and taxis. When we gave her a goodbye present she nearly cried.
I wish these people along with everyone else we met can make a brighter future in the multilayered Islamic Republic of Iran.
Monday, 15 October 2007
End of the Road
The eastwards road ends for us in Shiraz. It took us more than 13.000 kilometres to drive here; now it’s time to turn back.
This is the south. The sky shines without a cloud. It’s still hot. Domes of the mosques that rise from the sea of countless mud roofs are adorned with pink and yellow flowers. In many of its city gardens cypresses shamelessly lean on palm trees full of dates; tangerines and pomegranates hang from the trees. Once, Shiraz has been famous for nightingales, poets, roses, and wine. The vineyards and famous grapes are replaced by fields of watermelons. The charm is long gone but is not forgotten in the poems of Hafez and Saadi.
This is the south. The sky shines without a cloud. It’s still hot. Domes of the mosques that rise from the sea of countless mud roofs are adorned with pink and yellow flowers. In many of its city gardens cypresses shamelessly lean on palm trees full of dates; tangerines and pomegranates hang from the trees. Once, Shiraz has been famous for nightingales, poets, roses, and wine. The vineyards and famous grapes are replaced by fields of watermelons. The charm is long gone but is not forgotten in the poems of Hafez and Saadi.
Old Persia
Driving south to Shiraz we explored old Achaemian Persia well known to ancient Greeks. A dirty road through obscure village of Pasargadae leads to Cyrus’s tomb, a giant marble sarcophagus, standing by itself, forgotten in the middle of the field. No ornament disturbs its peacefulness; I only wish it wouldn’t be enclosed in iron bars. The cliff of Nagsh-i-Rustam is struck by four cross tombs of the Achaemian kings, including Darius.
We spend the night in the park attached to Persepolis; the guard just let us in and offered us tea. We were alone with the ancient world. Persepolis was built about 512 BC by Darius and burnt to the ground by Alexander the Great some two hundreds year later. The most fascinating feature of the site is the decoration. Reliefs are surprisingly well preserved; their surfaces are smooth as silk.
We spend the night in the park attached to Persepolis; the guard just let us in and offered us tea. We were alone with the ancient world. Persepolis was built about 512 BC by Darius and burnt to the ground by Alexander the Great some two hundreds year later. The most fascinating feature of the site is the decoration. Reliefs are surprisingly well preserved; their surfaces are smooth as silk.
Isfahan
After three months of travelling we reached Isfahan. Dear old Isfahan!
We stayed a relaxed week. It’s easy to spend hours to admire different mosques, bridges. Persian architecture is at its finest here. One could explore city monuments for months without coming to the end of them. The centre is the square, a huge rectangle enclosed by arcades. The most magnificent buildings around the square were built 400 years ago by Shah Abbas. The domes of the mosques and the minarets are tiled in Safavid blue. There used to be the nicest teahouse overlooking the square. It’s only but a memory now. The government had closed it. Officially to prevent young people from smoking too many water pipes. We walked down to arched bridges, to find the rest of the old city teahouses. They are all gone. Puritanism took up again. Luckily, European style cafes opened up in well hidden alleys of Armenian quarter of Jolfa. Great places to hang out with friends.
We stayed a relaxed week. It’s easy to spend hours to admire different mosques, bridges. Persian architecture is at its finest here. One could explore city monuments for months without coming to the end of them. The centre is the square, a huge rectangle enclosed by arcades. The most magnificent buildings around the square were built 400 years ago by Shah Abbas. The domes of the mosques and the minarets are tiled in Safavid blue. There used to be the nicest teahouse overlooking the square. It’s only but a memory now. The government had closed it. Officially to prevent young people from smoking too many water pipes. We walked down to arched bridges, to find the rest of the old city teahouses. They are all gone. Puritanism took up again. Luckily, European style cafes opened up in well hidden alleys of Armenian quarter of Jolfa. Great places to hang out with friends.
Sunday, 7 October 2007
Qods Day
In Iran the last Friday of Ramadan is dedicated to Jerusalem (Qods in Farsi). In Homeini’s words (official English translation is extremely confusing): ˝[sic] Qods day is global day. It’s not allocated day to Qods. It’s opposition day of poors against of imperialism. Today is islam’s day & Qods’s day & expectation philosophy˝. Wise words short, it is a day to protest against Israeli occupation of the third holiest city of Islam.
It is Friday prayers. Several roads around the Imam Homeini square have been closed to traffic. Throughout the morning lines of mullahs, men, women in black, and children have been filling into a vast square. All around, loudspeakers cry sermons and martial music. In front of the Imam’s mosque thousands of men (the women are placed separately at the back of the square close to the bazaar) sit in rows on the ground. Under the podium a large banners proclaim the flaming slogans: ˝The US administration is an accomplice in Zionists crimes. America is the enemy of the mankind. Future belongs to Hezbollah, etc.˝ Now, before the main sermon, comes the warm-up. Large speakers denounce the criminals. ˝Down with Israel!. Down with America!˝
It is Friday prayers. Several roads around the Imam Homeini square have been closed to traffic. Throughout the morning lines of mullahs, men, women in black, and children have been filling into a vast square. All around, loudspeakers cry sermons and martial music. In front of the Imam’s mosque thousands of men (the women are placed separately at the back of the square close to the bazaar) sit in rows on the ground. Under the podium a large banners proclaim the flaming slogans: ˝The US administration is an accomplice in Zionists crimes. America is the enemy of the mankind. Future belongs to Hezbollah, etc.˝ Now, before the main sermon, comes the warm-up. Large speakers denounce the criminals. ˝Down with Israel!. Down with America!˝
Unfortunately such demagogies do not help to reassure a dialogue of civilisations.
Postscript by Anna:
I would like to add that even if I agree with the protest against the occupation of the Palestinian territories I am shocked by the message of war and death, especially as children are holding posters about death and hatred without knowing it. It is also important to add that this demonstration has declined in popularity over the last years. According to the people we spoke to there used to be millions of participants. There are rumours that people from the villages are offered money and bus rides to the cities as well as food in exchange for taking part.
A young man said that he was forced to join during his military service. While the soldiers usually had to shave their heads, there was an exception a few weeks before demonstrations like this one, they were ordered to grow their hair in order to blend in and look like civilians.
I believe that the pictures shown in this post are not representative of the opinion of many Iranians, most people we meet are critical about the government of this country.
21 Ramadan
We came to Iran during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan that constitutes one of the five pillars of Islam. In the theocracy fasting between sunrise and sunset is institutionalized on a stately level. This makes travelling more difficult as all the restaurants are closed during the day.
On the 21st day of Ramadan the city of Isfahan was shrouded in black. Various religious processions were gathering in front of numerous city mosques, led by turbaned Mullahs with long mantles. Dozens of men and women were crying. ˝A mourning procession,˝ a friend informed us. ˝For Hazrat Ali˝, ˝Prophet Mohammad son-in-law, shias’ first martyr˝ who died 1346 years ago. The noticed sadness was genuine. This is Shiite power, faith so strong that emotion for an Imam who was killed more than a thousand years ago is so of this day as if for a brother who had died yesterday.
On the 21st day of Ramadan the city of Isfahan was shrouded in black. Various religious processions were gathering in front of numerous city mosques, led by turbaned Mullahs with long mantles. Dozens of men and women were crying. ˝A mourning procession,˝ a friend informed us. ˝For Hazrat Ali˝, ˝Prophet Mohammad son-in-law, shias’ first martyr˝ who died 1346 years ago. The noticed sadness was genuine. This is Shiite power, faith so strong that emotion for an Imam who was killed more than a thousand years ago is so of this day as if for a brother who had died yesterday.
Dr. Strangelove
On the old road to Isfahan we passed a sleepy Natanz where we inspected a few centrifuges.
Five years ago an Iranian dissident group revealed that the government has built a secret uranium enrichment facility in Natanz without informing the UN International Atomic Energy Agency, IAEA. According to the agency Iran cold have 3000 centrifuges hooked up by now. Iran plans to scale up enrichment to 54000 centrifuges and says its nuclear aims are peaceful. The latter claims are disbelieved by many. However it should be noted that the IAEA has as yet found no conclusive evidence that Iran is running a nuclear weapon programme.
The centrifuges are spinning on. So what next? According to the Economist’s special report there could be at least two unhappy endings. In one, Iran ends up with nuclear weapons. In another, America and Israel attack Iran. This would have very dangerous and unpredictable consequences.
Let’s hope reconciliation can be reached soon. Time is short!
Five years ago an Iranian dissident group revealed that the government has built a secret uranium enrichment facility in Natanz without informing the UN International Atomic Energy Agency, IAEA. According to the agency Iran cold have 3000 centrifuges hooked up by now. Iran plans to scale up enrichment to 54000 centrifuges and says its nuclear aims are peaceful. The latter claims are disbelieved by many. However it should be noted that the IAEA has as yet found no conclusive evidence that Iran is running a nuclear weapon programme.
The centrifuges are spinning on. So what next? According to the Economist’s special report there could be at least two unhappy endings. In one, Iran ends up with nuclear weapons. In another, America and Israel attack Iran. This would have very dangerous and unpredictable consequences.
Let’s hope reconciliation can be reached soon. Time is short!
Tuesday, 2 October 2007
Holy Shrine
Driving out of Tehran we noticed an odd site. It turned out to be a mausoleum of the founder of the Islamic republic, Ayatollah (sign of God) Homeini.
The interior, rather then exhibiting subtle calligraphy, is composed of a green cage that holds Homeini’s remains, current clergymen’s posters, neon lights in too many colours and steel girders, not to mention machine-made carpets. Outside, an enormous parking lot, where people camp, spread their plastic cloths and lay out their picnics, a bakery, a clinic, a bank, various shops, and different kebabis. In other words, a truly holy ˝Disneyland˝.
The interior, rather then exhibiting subtle calligraphy, is composed of a green cage that holds Homeini’s remains, current clergymen’s posters, neon lights in too many colours and steel girders, not to mention machine-made carpets. Outside, an enormous parking lot, where people camp, spread their plastic cloths and lay out their picnics, a bakery, a clinic, a bank, various shops, and different kebabis. In other words, a truly holy ˝Disneyland˝.
An Old Man of the Mountain
Thousand years ago Hassan Sabah (An Old Man of the Mountain) built many well hidden fortresses in the Albroz mountains of northern Iran. His militant disciples were Shiite extremists of the Ismaili sect. Hassan would give selected men plenty of hashish, took them high to secret lush gardens that resembled the paradise, along with promises of eternal life in heaven should they have to sacrifice their own lives for the one of the victims (mainly Sunni men of note). The fictitious life of a young Fidai (the one ready to sacrifice) ibn Tahir is the core of the great Slovenian novel Alamut written by Vladimir Bartol.
Inspired by a novel I first visited the castle of Alamut six years ago. It was completely ruined. Revisiting the site was amazing. Last four years of excavations gave remarkable results. I guess I’ll have to come back again in few years to see the castle unveiled.
On the way to Tehran through the mountains we caught sight of Damavand, at 5610 metres the highest mountain in Iran. Its base camp proved to be a nice but cold camping ground.
Inspired by a novel I first visited the castle of Alamut six years ago. It was completely ruined. Revisiting the site was amazing. Last four years of excavations gave remarkable results. I guess I’ll have to come back again in few years to see the castle unveiled.
On the way to Tehran through the mountains we caught sight of Damavand, at 5610 metres the highest mountain in Iran. Its base camp proved to be a nice but cold camping ground.
From my prison of clothes:
Iran in fantastic in most ways but there are obviously some problems for a tourist. Especially so for a female tourist. I will not be nuanced, I hate the Hijab (dress code for women). Besides the unpractical aspects, -it is still hot here- there is something horrible in the feeling of being forced to wear something. And not only because of this but in general as a woman I feel demoralized in the Islamic Republic. I can mention three reasons why:
-The presence of "the ghosts", that is the women in black Chador (tent). Sometimes they wear black gloves and a black, semi-transparent piece of cloth over their face. To me it signalizes that they should not be seen at all, hardly even exist, they are not even worth to be noticed, if they could they would turn invisible. How could any god ever create a beautiful female body and then mean it to be hidden as if it was something ugly and shameful? (note: I do not have to wear this, just cover hair, arms, legs and feet and not wear anything tight.)
-The feeling of always risking to be inappropriate. I am constantly aware of other people looking at me. What if my sleeves are too short, too much hair is sticking out under the scarf and so on. As if the sight of my body would offend people around me.
-The male behavior towards me. I am afraid to reach out my hand to men as shaking a womans hand (who is not your wife) is forbidden for a religious man. Some do shake my hand but sometimes they just stare at it as if I was presenting them with a snake or something.
But many people look at me with friendly smiles and they constantly make contact and are very concerned about us to like Iran. It is just that one hostile look outweighs the rest.
-The presence of "the ghosts", that is the women in black Chador (tent). Sometimes they wear black gloves and a black, semi-transparent piece of cloth over their face. To me it signalizes that they should not be seen at all, hardly even exist, they are not even worth to be noticed, if they could they would turn invisible. How could any god ever create a beautiful female body and then mean it to be hidden as if it was something ugly and shameful? (note: I do not have to wear this, just cover hair, arms, legs and feet and not wear anything tight.)
-The feeling of always risking to be inappropriate. I am constantly aware of other people looking at me. What if my sleeves are too short, too much hair is sticking out under the scarf and so on. As if the sight of my body would offend people around me.
-The male behavior towards me. I am afraid to reach out my hand to men as shaking a womans hand (who is not your wife) is forbidden for a religious man. Some do shake my hand but sometimes they just stare at it as if I was presenting them with a snake or something.
But many people look at me with friendly smiles and they constantly make contact and are very concerned about us to like Iran. It is just that one hostile look outweighs the rest.
Iran Good?
Crossing the border to Iran at Astara was hassle free. Not so much for Anna, who had initial difficulties with her Hijab, regarding Islamic dress code for women. Her clothes need to be loose fitting so as not to reveal any body shape. Further she must wear a headscarf at all times in public. The border officials somehow forgot to let us know about the recently introduced petrol rationings in Iran. We found this out only when we nearly run out before reaching Tehran. Therefore we are constrained to buy petrol on the black market at 500% extra, however still 0.5 $ per litre.
The Iranian government is not very popular at the moment (nevertheless Iranians themselves have always been extremely friendly). Over here it’s interesting to notice that the Iranian government official rhetoric is diametrically opposite to much heard American. ˝That carnivorous wolf is not of the type to enter negotiations. Isn’t America the axis of evil? Wasn’t refusing to talk to America a principle of the blessed Ayatollah Homeini?˝
The walls of the former US embassy are still home to some famous propaganda graffiti reflecting Islamic government stance against the US. Around there a young man approached us and started talking to us. He said he likes America very much, especially John Wayne and beautiful Marilyn Monroe. Moments later an old man approached us and started to talk in Farsi. He told a young man to ask us if we could kill George W. Bush. He walked away when we told him we don’t like American politics eighter.
The Iranian government is not very popular at the moment (nevertheless Iranians themselves have always been extremely friendly). Over here it’s interesting to notice that the Iranian government official rhetoric is diametrically opposite to much heard American. ˝That carnivorous wolf is not of the type to enter negotiations. Isn’t America the axis of evil? Wasn’t refusing to talk to America a principle of the blessed Ayatollah Homeini?˝
The walls of the former US embassy are still home to some famous propaganda graffiti reflecting Islamic government stance against the US. Around there a young man approached us and started talking to us. He said he likes America very much, especially John Wayne and beautiful Marilyn Monroe. Moments later an old man approached us and started to talk in Farsi. He told a young man to ask us if we could kill George W. Bush. He walked away when we told him we don’t like American politics eighter.
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