Geoffrey Gresh

MALD 2007

Flying into Tehran on an Armavia flight from Yerevan in early spring 2005, I grew anxious as my flight made its final descent over the Alborz Mountains. After several months of waiting, including what seemed like endless trips to the Iranian embassy in Istanbul where I was living as an Ambassadorial Scholar, I had finally received my Iranian visa and couldn’t believe how far I had finally come. I first began my month-long journey to the South Caucasus region, arriving in Baku, Azerbaijan at the end of February. I stayed with an Azeri friend’s family before traveling by train, taxi and bus through Georgia to Armenia and the Nagorno-Karabakh. Along the way, I was greeted with gracious embraces, genuine hospitality and countless invitations to satiating meals.

When I arrived to Stepanakert in the Nagorno-Karabakh, I felt like I had been placed back in time under Soviet rule. The buildings were stark, run-down, and organized along a few main boulevards that crisscrossed the city of 40,000. Most locals walked around with their heads down, exuding an air of melancholy and despair. Though Stepanakert has rebuilt most of its main buildings and boulevards since the war, the ceasefire with Azerbaijan, even today, remains tenuous in a region undergoing rapid global change. Such places left a more sobering mark on my travels, reminding me of the realities faced by people living in a frozen conflict zone. Traveling to Iran after Armenia was a delight in itself and provided me with greater insight into the complexity of the culture, politics and history of the region. If one can look past the government’s propaganda and vitriolic rhetoric, Iran’s breathtaking national heritage sites and religious shrines, in addition to its warm and generous people, make any trip there well worthwhile.