31. July 2025
Morning broke, finding us at the observation deck with a panoramic view of the city. The Ramsar surrounding by green mountains on all sides. Closer to the sea, these mighty peaks dipped their backs, plunging into the deep, purplish-blue of the ancient, grey Caspian Sea. This vast lake was once part of a larger ocean, connected to both the Black and Azov Seas.
29. July 2025
The moment finally arrived: we were driving towards the Caspian Sea, heading north into the province of Mazandaran. In the Middle Ages, this region was known as Tabaristan, and human history here stretches back to the mid-10th millennium BC.
28. July 2025
The morning was cool, with the sun's first gentle rays just beginning to touch the earth. Ismail and his loyal horse arrived, seeking work from the commander of the Cossack brigade. With his limited Russian, Ismail hoped to negotiate and secure some kind of employment.
28. May 2025
The headscarf was bothering me and this is really ruined my mood. I was tying the ends of the scarf at the top of my head in a new style, but my husband's sharp remark immediately cut through my efforts. His concern was for my appearance, for avoiding the scrutiny of the morality police. A sense of suffocation grew within me, each harsh word of his making the lack of freedom even more palpable.
KOLO · 20. May 2025
We began to travelling through Iran — and that’s when I felt the strong desire to write. First and foremost, for my friends who had predicted a grim fate for me: suffering under a scorching sun, always wrapped in a chador, tucked away in some harem. I wanted them to know I was more than fine. I also wanted to share the extraordinary blend of antiquity and modernity I was experiencing — a vibrant garden of cultures, rich in tradition, cuisine, and nature.
06. May 2025
Setare—that was the name of the grandmother who had won our grandfather’s heart. From the moment Ismail first met her, he knew he would marry her. But Setare’s wealthy Turkish parents disapproved of the match. To them, Ismail was just a poor young man—kind, sincere, but not worthy of their daughter. Despite this, the young couple began meeting in secret.
28. April 2025
When I first arrived in Iran, the expression that struck me most came at the checkout counter of a store: “Ghabeli nadare.” Literally, it means: “It’s not worth anything,” or more loosely, “No need to pay.” Imagine buying something, reaching for your wallet, and the cashier smiles and says, “No need to pay, just take it.”
18. April 2025
I take off my heavy motorcycle helmet and place it on my iron competitor—my husband’s bike. We’re somewhere on the outskirts of Tehran. Around us stretch yellow-burgundy hills and dry, parched earth. In the distance, young trees have just been planted, their delicate green a quiet contrast to the dust.
The motorcycle broke down right at the top of the hill. I step aside and wait calmly while my beloved husband tries to fix the problem, carefully inspecting the source of the breakdown.
15. April 2025
The grandfather's story began not far from the city of Tabriz, in Shabestar — at the crossroads of the Great Silk Road, near the salty shores of Lake Urmia. It was there that Mir Ismail was born.
His childhood unfolded among orchards and mountain valleys. Youth thundered in soon after, and before long, the song of young manhood began to play.
10. April 2025
Not far from here stood a true feat of engineering, designed by the Italian engineer Cesare Delleani. Under his guidance, the tallest bridge of its time was built. An imposing structure stretching between two towering cliffs just outside the village. We turned off the main highway and drove straight toward it.