The holiest of holy shrines

  Mashhad, Iran
Monday, May 22, 2006

Mashhad was next on the list to visit, for a few reasons. It's right near the border with Turkmenistan (next stop!), very few tourists make it this far, and, most importantly, it is home to the Iman Reza Mausoleum complex, making it Iran's holiest city.

Iman Reza (Muslim Shi'a 8th Imam, thought to have been poisoned) was 'martyred' in 823AD in a town called Toos on the outskirts of modern day Mashhad. In the 13th century after Toos was destroyed by the invading Mongols, Sultan Mahmood Ghaznavi built a mausoleum in Mashhad (meaning 'Place of Martyrdom'), and thereafter Mashhad developed as a city as many people migrated to the area surrounding the shrine.

Fitting for being the holiest city in Iran, the town itself is extremely conservative. I was one of only a handful of women not wearing full chador at all times. There were a lot of Mullah (Religious clergy) wandering the streets, and pilgrims from not only all over the country, but also all over the Islamic (Shi-a) world. In the Islamic holy New Year (called No Ruz) the town population of 2m TRIPLES as pilgrims come from all of Iran to pay pilgrimage.

My first port of call was of course the holy complex. Infidels (ie me) are allowed inside the complex itself, providing they wear appropriate clothing (ie full chador) and do not enter the shrine itself. Fahime in Tehran had, for the last time, hooked me up with more friends! This time a family of twins. Dad and Mehrnosh arrived early in the morning, equipped with chador, and off we set. I was very excited! First I had to check my bag in (no bags inside) and then go through a security check - women and men seperate of course! In 1994 a bomb went off inside the complex killing 26 so since then the security has tightened. The complex was impressive from the outside - a huge area in the centre of the city, lots of blue mosiac tiling on the outside. Stepping through the gates into the complex itself however, I was astounded at the size. Inside are (it seemed) about 7 different courtyards, two mosques and countless theological schools and museums. And all around were pilgrims.


Carpets were layed out in most courtyards, where men, women and children were sat praying. 'Moral' police (I assume) were circulating, pointing out when our chador's had slipped to show a piece of hair. But most surprisingly of all, families brought their dead to the shrine. I saw 4 'funerals' - men carrying bodies clothed (no casket), with hundreds of mourners following close behind - in the short hour I was at the complex.

The father asked if I wanted to visit his mother's grave and I jumped at the chance. She was buried underneath the complex. We walked down some stairs, and in a hidden floor were thousands upon thousands of white marble tomb stones were set into the ground. It was a very special day for me.

On another day, the family took me to see the mausoleum of yet another famous Iranian poet, Ferdowsi. After over 3 weeks in Iran I was VERY familiar with his name - every town I had been in so far had a Ferdowsi Avenue! The mausoleum itself was in the ruins of Toos, an hour drive out of town. Being so far away there were not as many pilgrims I had expected, but there was a group of students taking photos and crying over his tomb. Ferdowsi wrote a masterwork, the Shahnameh, which is the most popular and influential manifestation of true Iranian national epics. The Shahnameh, or the "Book of Kings," tells the history of old Persia before Arab conquest of the region. On the way back to town we came across a scene from the book, in the middle of the street all brightly lit up!


The family took fantastic care of me for all 3 days I was in Mashhad. The father would drive 1 hour into town to pick me up and take me to where the rest of the family were waiting, sometimes I had 3 pick-ups in a day! We visited small villages, ate out, visited tea houses, and, on the last day (my last day in Iran!) had a farewell dinner of... kebab (surprise surprise) at their house. They were a truly warm and lovely family. Eating kebab with an Iranian family in their own home was, I though, a very fitting way to ending my thoroughly enjoyable time in Iran!


And so, with much regret (and excitement) I left Mashhad, bound for my next port of call, Turkmenistan. But that is another story all together!