"The Iranian custom of great hospitality is most widespread, but it vitiates its good intentions once the guest realizes that his host is producing phrases not to feeling but to custom," writes Anthony Smith in his book, Blind White Fish in Persia.

Iranians have a deeply ingrained custom of formalized politeness. Whatever the differences in style, tastes and outlook between older and younger Iranians this custom—ta'roof—remains undiminished by time and tide.

When I applied for my press credentials at the government ministry, we (my cousin, my translator and I) were told that we would need to employ an agency that works with foreign journalists in order to "deputize" my translator. We drove to the agency and after much discussion, an agreement was reached. Anxious about the cost of the agency's services, I asked my cousin what they would charge me. He said, "Oh, we didn't discuss price." That will be negotiated afterward. In America, directness and "cutting to the chase" are considered good qualities—here such behavior is seen as rude.

Yes, I could have pressed my cousin to give me a figure he thought was accurate and eventually he would have quoted a sum. But he would do this just to be polite and satisfy my concerns. It would not be the actual, as yet to be determined, figure.

Iranians have countless phrases to humble themselves and flatter their guests, friends and associates. The phrases are as flowery as classic Iranian poetry and I really can't think of an equivalent in our culture.

Here's a quote from the editorial in today's Iran News, an English language Tehran newspaper:

"Currently out of a 365-day year, there are 144 non-working days in this country, composed of 104 weekend days, 15 days for the Persian New Year and 35 religious and national holidays. Economists believe recurrent holidays disrupt productiveness and efficiency, hurts the business sector and promotes a lethargic culture. We are one of the wealthiest countries in the world as far as God-given natural resources. So why does half of Iran's population still live at or below the poverty level?"

Today in the park I watched one of the groundskeepers use a pair of pruning shears as a wrench, a hammer and a wire cutter.

Yesterday, driving on the insane freeway to north Tehran there was an accident. A man lay on his back on the narrow concrete median, one hand across his chest. His motorcycle was on its side next to him. Judging from the crowd that had gathered to look at him and offer comfort, he'd been there for a while. But there was no sign of medical help.

One more sight on the way to north Tehran: Standing by the side of the road was a man in a long brown sack cloth-like robe, held closed with a chorded rope. His disheveled white beard came down to his waist. He held a tall, worn walking stick. The passenger I was with said he was a "darvash"—a Sufi dervish.

"I saw a rend seated on the frosty ground with neither atheism nor Islam, and neither the world nor religion. Neither truth of God nor reality and neither Sharia nor certainty. Who in these two worlds would have the courage for that?" -Omar Kayyam

Be salamat,

Steve