http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/ en-us rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) webmaster@ricksteves.com (Webmaster @ Rick Steves) Mon, 10 May 2010 12:44:05 PST Mon, 10 May 2010 12:44:05 PST 15 For 30 years Rick Steves has taught smart European travel. copyright (c) 2010 Rick Steves' Travel as a Political Act Blog BlogFusion 4.0 - www.blogfusion.com http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/files/BFlogo.gif http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/ 88 31 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=158 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=158 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 10 May 2010 12:42:00 PST

When the USSR collapsed, I remember thinking, "Wow, the USA will reign supreme on this planet through the rest of my lifetime." It seemed that American values of democracy and the free market would be unstoppable. And American economic might, coupled with our hardball approach to maintaining our relative affluence, would be insurmountable. We would just get richer and more powerful.

Of course, the outlook today is more sober. We've been humbled by the consequences of our isolation, the limits of our military power, the collapse of the housing and stock markets, the costly specter of global warming, and the meteoric rise of India and China as economic giants.

In this Global Age, the world's problems are our problems. It'll be all hands on deck. We need to address these challenges honestly and wisely. Lessons learned from our travels can better equip us to address and help resolve the challenges facing our world. We travelers are both America's ambassadors to the world...and the world's ambassadors to America.

Whether you're a mom, a schoolteacher, a celebrity, a realtor, or a travel writer, it's wrong to stop paying attention and let others (generally with a vested interest in the situation) make the political decisions for us. Our founding fathers didn't envision career politicians and professional talking heads doing our political thinking for us. All are welcome in the political discourse that guides this nation.

Thoughtful travelers know that we're all citizens of the world and members of a global family. Spinning from Scotland to Sri Lanka, from Tacoma to Tehran, travelers experience the world like whirling dervishes: We keep one foot planted in our homeland, while acknowledging the diversity of our vast world. We celebrate the abundant and good life we've been given and work to help those blessings shower equitably upon all. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=158#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=157 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=157 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 07 May 2010 11:01:00 PST
Read books that explain the economic and political basis of issues you've stumbled onto in your travels. A basic understanding of the economics of poverty, the politics of empire, and the power of corporations are life skills that give you a foundation to better understand what you experience in your travels. Information that mainstream media considers "subversive" won't come to you. You need to reach out for it. The following are a few of the books (listed in chronological order) that have shaped and inspired my thinking over the years: Bread for the World (Arthur Simon), Food First (Frances Moore Lappe), The Origins of Totalitarianism (Hannah Arendt), Future in our Hands (Erik Dammann), Manufacturing Consent (Noam Chomsky), War Against the Poor: Low-Intensity Conflict and Christian Faith (Jack Nelson-Pallmeyer), Unexpected News: Reading the Bible with Third World Eyes (Robert McAfee Brown), The United States of Europe (T.R. Reid), The European Dream (Jeremy Rifkin), and The End of Poverty (Jeffrey Sachs).

Contribute to the Travel as a Political Act Readers' Forum. It's designed so that we travelers can share ideas and encourage and inspire each other. Please join the discussion there, share thoughts generated by this blog, and contribute ways you've enjoyed incorporating your world view into your local activism. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=157#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=156 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=156 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 05 May 2010 10:00:00 PST

Remember that many would love to travel and gain a broader perspective, but cannot. Find creative ways to bring home the value of travel by giving presentations to groups of curious people not likely to have passports. I did this in my twenties by hosting a monthly "World Travelers' Slide Club," and do essentially the same thing on a bigger scale today by producing a radio show that I offer free to our nation's network of public radio stations.

Consider an "educational tour" for your next trip (see, for example, Augsburg College's Center for Global Education, www.augsburg.edu/global). Even if you normally wouldn't take a tour, visiting trouble zones with a well-connected organization is safe, makes you an insider, and greatly increases your opportunities for learning. I've taken three such tours, and each has been powerfully educational and inspirational. Educational tourism is a small yet thriving part of the tourism industry, and offers a world of options.

Find ways to translate your new global passions to local needs. Like the bumper sticker says: Think globallyâ?¦act locally. Travel has taught me the reality of homelessness. After talking with a proud and noble woman like Beatriz in El Salvador ' which does more to humanize the reality of poverty than reading a library of great books on the subject ' inspires you to action once back home. Thinking creatively, my wife and I took our retirement savings and purchased a small apartment complex that we loaned to the YWCA to use to house local homeless mothers. Now, rather than collect taxable interest, we climb into our warm and secure bed each night knowing that 25 struggling moms and their kids do as well. When you can learn to vicariously enjoy someone else's consumption who's dealing with more basic needs than you are], you are richer for it. With this outlook, helping to provide housing to people in need is simply smarter, more practical, and more gratifying than owning a big yacht. (This can be done on a smaller scale with much less equity, too. For more on this, see www.ricksteves.com/politicalact.)

Find creative ways to humanize our planet while comfortably nestled into your workaday home life. Sweat with the tropics, see developing-world debt as the slavery of the 21st century, and feel the pain of "enemy losses" along with the pain of American losses. Do things ' even if only symbolic ' in solidarity with people on the front lines of struggles you care about.

Put your money where your ideals are. Know your options for local consumption and personal responsibility. Don't be bullied by non-sustainable cultural norms. You can pay more for your bread to buy it from the person who baked it. You can buy seasonal produce in a way that supports family farms. You can, as a matter of principle, shun things you don't want to support (bottled water, disposable goods, sweatshop imports, and so on). You can use public transit or drive a greener car. Consume as if your patronage helps shapes our future. It does.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=156#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=155 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=155 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 03 May 2010 15:04:00 PST
Reach and preach beyond the choir. Don't hold back in places where progressive thinking may seem unwelcome. I was tempted to move to a church downtown that welcomed progressive thinkers, but chose instead to keep sharing a pew with a more conservative gang at my suburban church. Rather than change churches, I stayed and contributed ' teaching poverty awareness workshops, sharing my travels at special events, and ' after learning that many in our congregation are homophobic ' even inviting the Seattle's Men's Chorus (America's largest gay chorus) to provide music one Sunday. While conservatives and liberals may see things differently, they care equally. I've found that, deep down, any thinking person wants to be challenged respectfully and thoughtfully. (That's why, rather than a new air-conditioning system for our chapel, we built a well in a thirsty Nicaraguan village instead.)

Take your broader outlook to work. Until we have "cost accounting" that honestly considers all costs, there is no real financial incentive for corporations to consider the environment, the fabric of our communities, the poor at home or abroad, or our future in their decisions. Executives are legally required to maximize profits, but with leadership and encouragement coming from their workforce, they are more likely to be good citizens as well as good businessmen. I encourage my employees to guard my travel company's ethics and stand up to me if I stray. And they do. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=155#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=154 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=154 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 30 Apr 2010 10:55:00 PST

Encourage others to travel. For example, support student exchange programs. Many people have the resources to travel, but live within a social circle where "travel" means Las Vegas and Walt Disney World. High schools and universities are putting more priority than ever on foreign study programs. For many, the funding is a challenge. One trip can help broaden the perspective of a young person with a big future. Hosting a foreign student can provide help create the same amount of international understanding as funding an American student's trip abroad.

Do a survey of causes you might become involved in, and choose a couple that resonate. Then tackle these as a hobby. Working on my favorites ' debt relief for the developing world, drug policy reform, and affordable housing ' brings me great joy. I have an excuse to focus my studies, I meet inspirational people, and I enjoy the gratification that comes with actually making a difference. Organizations like Jubilee USA Network need grassroots help in reaching their goal of relief for the world's most heavily indebted nations (www.jubileeusa.org). Look into Bread for the World, a Christian citizens' organization that effectively lobbies our government in the interest of poor and hungry people both in our country and overseas (www.bread.org). If you're inspired to advocate for smarter US drug laws, join NORML (www.norml.org) and talk about it in polite company. There are a host of good organizations and a world of worthy causes to be a part of.



Travel inside the United States to appreciate the full diversity of culture and thought within our vast, multifaceted society. Tune in to both ethnic diversity and economic diversity. Assume that subcultures ' even scary ones ' provide basic human necessities. At home and abroad, the vast majority of people who look scary aren't. I remember the first time I walked through Seattle's Hempfest ' a party of 80,000 far-out people filling a park. A man named Vivian wearing a Utili-kilt and dreadlocks yelled, "Give it up!" for a band whose music sounded like noise to me...and people went wild. It was intimidating. Then I got to know Vivian, who explained to me that this is a subculture that once a year gets to come together here on Seattle's waterfront. I walked through the crowd again, with a different attitude. I celebrated the freedom and tolerance that made that tribal gathering possible. Last year I noticed I got strangely emotional when talking with police who said they enjoy the Hempfest assignment as a two-way celebration of respect and tolerance. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=154#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=153 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=153 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 28 Apr 2010 12:16:00 PST

For my next few blog entries, I've brainstormed some concrete ways you can bring your new global perspective into your local citizenship:

Be an advocate for those outside of the US who have no voice here, but are affected by our policies. See our government policy through a lens of how will this impact the poor. Travel forces voters to consider a new twist on "representative" democracy. Whom should your vote represent? Because I've made friends throughout the developing world, my vote is based on more than simply, "Am I better off today than I was four years ago?" Travelers recognize that the results of an election here in the US can have a greater impact on poor people half a world away than it does on middle-class American voters. My travels have taught me that you don't want to be really rich in a desperately poor world. With this in mind, I think of it not as noble or heroic, but simply pragmatic to bring along with me into the voting booth a compassion for the needy. I like to say (naively, I know) that if every American were required to travel abroad before voting, the US would fit more comfortably into this ever-smaller planet.

Share lessons, expect more from your friends, and don't be afraid to ruin dinners by bringing up uncomfortable realities. In a land where the afflicted and the comfortable are kept in different corners, people who connect those two worlds are doing everyone a service. Afflict the comfortable in order to comfort the afflicted. By saying things that upset people so they can declare they'd fight and die for my right to be so stupid, I feel I'm contributing to the fabric of our democracy.

Get involved. After observing alarming trends in other countries, it's easier to extrapolate the similar effects of small developments in your own society ' whether it's the impact of a widening gap between rich and poor, a violation of the separation of church and state, the acceptance of a tyranny of the majority, or the loss of personal freedoms. Then, for the good of your community, you understand the importance of becoming active and speaking out to help nip those trends in the bud. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=153#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=152 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=152 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 26 Apr 2010 14:34:00 PST

After a thought-provoking trip, I consume news differently. Since I've wandered through war debris with Alen in Mostar, news footage of any city being devastated by bombs suddenly aches with humanity. My memories of friends stiff with shrapnel and former parks filled with tombstones push me toward pacifism. During times of saber-rattling, I fly a peace flag from my office building. A neighbor once asked if I knew how much business I've lost by flying that flag. Because of what I've learned about the human costs of war in places such as Bosnia-Herzegovina, El Salvador, and Iran, it hadn't occurred to me to measure the economic costs to my business of speaking out for peace. In fact, it's hard for me to understand how someone could support a war they didn't believe in because it was good for their business.

Mark Twain wrote, "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." These wise words can be a rallying cry for all travelers once comfortably back home. When courageous leaders in our community combat small-mindedness and ignorance ' whether pastors contending with homophobia in their congregations, employers striving to make a workplace color-blind, or teachers standing up for intellectual and creative freedoms ' travelers can stand with them in solidarity.

I strive, not always successfully, to be tolerant. As a comfortable, white, Protestant, suburban American, a warm welcome always awaits me over with the tyranny of the majority. I recognize that intolerance can be a natural state of rest. I'm inspired by lands that have morals but don't moralizeâ?¦lands that make tolerance a guiding virtue and consider peaceful coexistence a victory. I want to celebrate the diversity in American life, making room for different lifestyles. And I want help shape an America that employs that viewpoint on a global scale as it works to be a constructive member of the family of nations.

Traveling to learn, you find new passions. Had I not seen shantytowns break out like rashes in Istanbul, I might not have gotten tuned into affordable housing issues in my own community. After observing the pragmatic Dutch and Swiss approach to drug abuse, I chose to speak out on drug law reform with NORML and the ACLU. Having traveled in the Islamic Republic of Iran, where religion and government are thoroughly interwoven, I've seen the uneasy consequences of mixing mosque or church and state. In my church, some want the American flag right up there in front, while others in my community would like to hang the Ten Commandments in our city hall. And, because I care both for my church and my state, I work to keep my church free of flags and my city hall free of commandments.

Travel becomes a political act only if you actually do something with your broadened perspective once you return home. The challenges on the horizon today can be so overwhelming that they freeze caring people into inaction. While trying to save the planet singlehandedly can be disheartening, taking a few concrete and realistic baby steps in that direction can bring fine rewards. Because of my work, I've had some exciting opportunities in this regard. Below are a few personal examples of how I've incorporated passions sparked by my travels into real action back home in the hopes of demonstrating a few creative ways that you may do the same ' on a larger or smaller scale.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=152#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=151 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=151 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 23 Apr 2010 13:36:00 PST

Travel doesn't end when you step off the plane into your familiar home airport. The past year's worth of blog entries ' while ranging far and wide across the globe ' all illustrate how travel is rich with learning opportunities, and how the ultimate souvenir is a broader outlook. By incorporating those lessons into my being, I am changed. Any traveler can relate to this: On returning from a major trip, you sense that your friends and co-workers have stayed the same, but you're...different. It's enlightening and unsettling at the same time.

A wonderful byproduct of leaving America is gaining a renewed appreciation for our country. When frustrated by overwrought bureaucracies overseas, I'm thankful that it's not a daily part of my life back home. When exasperated by population density, I return home grateful to live in a sparsely populated corner of the world. Traveling, I sample different tempos, schedules, seasoning, business environments, and political systems. Some I like better ' others I'm glad don't follow me home.

When I return home from any trip, I realize that I am a part of the terroir of my home turf, just as the people who so charm me in distant corners of the world are part of theirs. Those people might visit me here, find it interesting, incorporate a few slices of my lifestyle into theirs, and be just as thankful to fly home. While seeing travel as a political act enables us to challenge our society to do better, it also shows us how much we have to be grateful for, to take responsibility for, and to protect.

In addition to gaining a keen appreciation of how blessed we are, travelers also understand that with these blessings come responsibilities. Protecting the poor, civil rights, and our environment are basic to good global citizenship. Travelers experience lands that have a wide gap between rich and poor, places without basic freedoms an American might take for granted, and regions where neglect has led to ruined environments. Packing that experience home, we can become more compassionate, even (or especially) during difficult times. Because we've seen the extremes, we can better understand the consequences of continued neglect in our own community.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=151#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=150 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=150 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 21 Apr 2010 12:45:00 PST
Considering all the fun I have traveling, feeling thankful to be home affirms my sense that I'm rooted in the right place. I enjoy the same Olympic Mountain view from my kitchen window that I did as a kid. I look out my office window and still see my junior high school.

While I relish the culture shock of being in an exotic, faraway place, I also enjoy the reverse culture shock of returning to the perfect normalcy of home. As if easing from my traveling lifestyle into my home lifestyle, I still function out of my toiletries kit for a few days before completely unpacking. The simplicity of living out of a single bag slowly succumbs to the complexity of living out of a walk-in closet in a big house with light switches and an entertainment system I've yet to master.

Over time, I willingly fall back into the snappy tempo and daily routine of a busy home life. I do this because I am not fundamentally a vagabond. I love my family, have fun running a business, enjoy the fellowship of the coffee hour after church, and savor my daily stroll across town for coffee. If I had a top hat, I'd tip it to the ladies I pass along the way.

And yet, after every trip, things remain a bit out of whack...but only to me. There's a loneliness in having a mind spinning with images, lessons, and memories that can never adequately be shared ' experiences such as finding out why the Salvadoran priest ignores his excommunication, why the Dutch celebrate tolerance, and why the dervish whirls. I enjoy the trip-capping challenge of making sense of the confusion, and splicing what I learned into who I am and what I do.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=150#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=149 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=149 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 19 Apr 2010 13:06:00 PST

Returning home from Iran to the US, I faced a barrage of questions ' mainly, "Why did you go to Iran?" Some were skeptical of my motives, accusing me of just trying to make a buck. (As a businessman, I can assure you there was no risk of a profit in this venture.) Reading the comments readers shared on my blog ' some of whom railed against me for "naively" acting as a Jane Fonda-type mouthpiece for an enemy that has allegedly bankrolled terrorists ' was also thought-provoking. The whole experience made me want to hug people and scream at the same time. It was intensely human.

I didn't go to Iran as a businessman or as a politician. I went as what I am ' a travel writer. I went for the same reasons I travel anywhere: to get out of my own culture and learn, to go to a scary place and find it's not so scary, and to bring distant places to people who've yet to go there. To me, understanding people and their lives is what travel is about, no matter where you go.

I have long held that travel can be a powerful force for peace. Travel promotes understanding at the expense of fear. And understanding bridges conflicts between nations. As Americans, we've endured the economic and human cost of war engulfing Iran's neighbor, Iraq. Seeing Iraq's cultural sites destroyed and its kind people being dragged through the ugliness of that war, I wished I'd been able to go to Baghdad before the war to preserve images of a peacetime Iraq. As our leaders' rhetoric ramped up the possibility of another war ' with Iran ' I didn't want to miss that chance again. It's human nature to not want to know the people on the receiving end of your "shock and awe" ' but to dehumanize these people is wrong. I wanted to put a human face on "collateral damage."

It's not easy finding a middle ground between "The Great Satan" and "The Axis of Evil." Some positions (such as President Ahmadinejad denying the Holocaust) are just plain wrong. But I don't entirely agree with many in my own government, either. Yes, there are evil people in Iran. Yes, the rhetoric and policies of Iran's leaders can be objectionable. But there is so much more to Iran than the negative image drummed into us by our media and our government.

I left Iran struck more by what we have in common than by our differences. Most Iranians, like most Americans, simply want a good life and a safe homeland for their loved ones. Just like my country, Iran has one dominant ethnic group and religion that's struggling with issues of diversity and change ' liberal versus conservative, modern versus traditional, secular versus religious. As in my own hometown, people of great faith are suspicious of people of no faith or a different faith. Both societies seek a defense against the onslaught of modern materialism that threatens their traditional "family values." Both societies are suspicious of each other, and both are especially suspicious of each other's government.

When we travel ' whether to the "Axis of Evil," or just to a place where people yodel when they're happy, or fight bulls to impress the girls, or can't serve breakfast until today's croissants arrive ' we enrich our lives and better understand our place on this planet. We undercut groups that sow fear, hatred, and mistrust. People-to-people connections help us learn that we can disagree and still coexist peacefully.

Granted, there's no easy solution, but surely getting to know Iranian culture is a step in the right direction. Hopefully, even the most skeptical will appreciate the humanity of 70 million Iranian people. Our political leaders sometimes make us forget that all of us on this small planet are equally precious children of God. Having been to Iran and meeting its people face to face, I feel this more strongly than ever.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=149#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=148 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=148 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 16 Apr 2010 10:30:00 PST
Finally walking down the jetway toward my Air France plane, I saw busty French flight attendants ' hair flowing freely ' greeting passengers at the door. It was as if the plane was a lifeboat, and they were pulling us back to the safety of the West. People entered with a sigh of relief, women pulled off their scarves...and suddenly we were free to be what we considered "normal." The jet lifted off, flying in the exact opposite route the Ayatollah had traveled to succeed the Shah.

For 12 days, I'd been out of my comfort zone, in a land where people live under a theocracy. I tasted not a drop of alcohol, and I never encountered a urinal. Women were not to show the shape of their body or their hair (and were beautiful nevertheless). It was a land where people took photos of me, as if I were the cultural spectacle.

Landing in Paris was reverse culture shock. I sipped wine like it was heaven-sent. I noticed hair, necklines, and the curves revealed by tight pants like never before. University students sat at outdoor cafés, men and women mingling together as they discussed whatever hot-button issue interested them. After the Valium-paced lifestyle of Iran, I felt an energy and efficiency cranked up on high. People were free to be "evil" and able to express their joy anyway they wanted. And, standing before that first urinal, I was thankful to be a Westerner. I was grateful for the learning experience that gave simple things ' from visiting the men's room to dealing with traffic jams, from valuing nonconformity to respecting women ' a broader cultural context.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=148#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=147 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=147 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 14 Apr 2010 13:16:00 PST

After visiting a war cemetery in Iran, which was filled with soldiers killed fighting in the Iran-Iraq War, I found myself sorting through a jumble of thoughts:

How oceans of blood were shed by both sides in the Iran-Iraq War ' a war of aggression waged by Saddam Hussein and Iraq (with American support) against Iran.

How invasion is nothing new for this mighty and historic nation. (When I visited the surprisingly humble National Museum of Archaeology in Tehran, the curator apologized, explaining that the art treasures of his country were scattered in museums throughout Europe and the West.)

How an elderly, aristocratic Iranian woman had crossed the street to look me in the eye and tell me, "We are proud, we are united, and we are strong. When you go home, please tell your people the truth."

How, with a reckless military action, this society could be set ablaze and radicalized. The uniquely Persian mix of delightful shops, university students with lofty career aspirations, gorgeous young adults with groomed eyebrows and perfect nose jobs, hope, progress, hard work, and the gentle people I encountered here in Iran could so easily and quickly be turned into a fiery hell of dysfunctional cities, torn-apart families, wailing mothers, newly empowered clerics, and radicalized people.

My visit to the cemetery drove home a feeling that had been percolating throughout my trip. There are many things that Americans justifiably find outrageous about the Iranian government ' from supporting Hezbollah, financing Iraqi resistance to the US occupation there, and making threats against Israel; to oppressing women and gay people; to asserting their right to join the world's nuclear club. And yet, no matter how strongly we want to see our demands met by Iran, we must pursue that aim carefully. What if our saber-rattling doesn't coerce this country into compliance? In the past, other powerful nations have underestimated Iran's willingness to be pulverized in a war...and both Iran and their enemies have paid the price.

I have to believe that smart and determined diplomacy can keep the Iranians ' and us ' from having to build giant new cemeteries for the next generation's war dead. That doesn't mean "giving in" to Iran...it means acknowledging that war is a failure and inspiring us to find an alternative.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=147#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=146 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=146 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 12 Apr 2010 11:06:00 PST

I make a point to visit war cemeteries in my travels. They always seem to come with a healthy dose of God ' as if dying for God and country makes a soldier's death more meaningful than just dying for country. That is certainly true at Iran's many martyrs' cemeteries.

Most estimates are that there were over a million casualties in the Iran-Iraq War. While the United States lives with the scars of Vietnam, the same generation of Iranians live with the scars of their war with Iraq ' a war in which they, with one-quarter our population, suffered three times the deaths. Iran considers anyone who dies defending the country to be a hero and a martyr. This bloody conflict left each Iranian city with a vast martyrs' cemetery. Tombs seem to go on forever, and each one has a portrait of the martyr and flies a green, white, and red Iranian flag. All the death dates are from 1980 to 1988.

Two decades after the war's end, the cemetery was still very much alive with mourning loved ones. A steady wind blew through seas of flags on the day of our visit, which added a stirring quality to the scene. And the place was bustling with people ' all mourning their lost loved ones as if the loss happened a year ago rather than twenty. The cemetery had a quiet dignity, and ' while I felt a bit awkward at first (being part of an American crew with a big TV camera) ' people either ignored us or made us feel welcome.



We met two families sharing a dinner on one tomb (a local tradition). They insisted we join them for a little food and tell us their story: They met each other twenty years ago while visiting their sons, who were buried side by side. They became friends, their surviving children married each other, and ever since then they gather regularly to share a meal on the tombs of their sons.

Nearby was a different area: marble slabs without upright stones, flags, or photos. This zone had the greatest concentration of mothers. My friend explained that these slabs marked bodies of unidentified heroes. Mothers whose sons were never found came here to mourn.

In another part of the cemetery, a long row of white tombs stretched into the distance, with only one figure interrupting the visual rhythm created by the receding tombs. It was a mother cloaked in black sitting on her son's tomb, praying ' a pyramid of maternal sorrow.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=146#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=145 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=145 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 09 Apr 2010 13:21:00 PST



The sightseeing highlight of our time in Iran was Persepolis. Persepolis was the dazzling ceremonial capital of the Persian Empire, back when it reached from Greece to India. Built by Darius and his son Xerxes the Great around 500 B.C., this sprawling complex of royal palaces was ' for nearly two hundred years ' the awe-inspiring home of the "King of Kings." At the time, Persia was so mighty, no fortifications were needed. Still 10,000 guards served at the pleasure of the emperor. Persepolis, which evokes the majesty of Giza or Luxor in Egypt, is (in my opinion) the greatest ancient site between the Holy Land and India.

My main regret from traveling through Iran on my first visit, back in 1978, was not trekking south to Persepolis. And I wanted to include Persepolis in our TV show because it's a powerful reminder that the soul of Iran is Persia, which predates the introduction of Islam by a thousand years. Arriving at Persepolis, in the middle of a vast and arid plain, was thrilling. This is one of those rare places that comes with high expectations...and actually exceeds them.

We got to Persepolis after a long day of driving ' just in time for that magic hour before the sun set. The light was glorious, the stones glowed rosy, and all the visitors seemed to be enjoying a special "sightseeing high." I saw more Western tourists visiting Persepolis than at any other single sight in the country. But I was struck most by the Iranian people who travel here to savor this reminder that their nation was a mighty empire 2,500 years ago.

Wandering the site, you feel the omnipotence of the Persian Empire, and gain a strong appreciation for the enduring strength of this culture and its people. I imagined this place at its zenith: the grand ceremonial headquarters of the Persian Empire. Immense royal tombs, reminiscent of those built for Egyptian pharaohs, are cut into the adjacent mountainside. The tombs of Darius and Xerxes come with huge carved reliefs of ferocious lions. Even today ' 2,500 years after their deaths ' they're reminding us of their great power. But, as history has taught us, no empire lasts forever. In 333 B.C., Persepolis was sacked and burned by Alexander the Great, replacing Persian dominance with Greek culture...and Persepolis has been a ruin ever since.

The approach to this awe-inspiring sight is marred by a vast and ugly tarmac with 1970s-era parking lot light poles. This paved hodgepodge is a reminder of another megalomaniac ruler. In 1971, the Shah threw a bash with unprecedented extravagance to celebrate the 2,500-year anniversary of the Persian Empire ' and to remind the world that he was the latest in a long string of great kings who ruled Persia with the omnipotence of a modern-day Xerxes or Darius. The Shah flew in dignitaries from all over the world, along with dinner from Maxim's in Paris, one of the finest restaurants in Europe. Iranian historians consider this arrogant display of imperial wealth and Western decadence ' which so offended his poverty-stricken subjects ' the beginning of the end for the Shah. Within a decade, he was gone and Khomeini was in. It's my hunch that the ugly asphalt remains of the Shah's party are left here so visiting locals can remember who their Revolution overthrew.
]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=145#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=144 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=144 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 07 Apr 2010 09:51:00 PST

After I attended a big Friday service at the Imam Mosque in Esfahan, Iran (described in my previous blog entry), I lingered at what we'd call "coffee hour," in the courtyard outside. On our way out, I shook the hand of the young cleric ' he had a short, slight build, a tight white turban, a trim Ahmadinejad-style beard, big teeth, and a playful smile. He reminded me of Rafsanjani, Iran's moderate former president. In the courtyard, a man hit the branches of a mulberry tree with a pole as kids scrambled for the treasured little berries.

Esfahan TV, which had televised the prayer service, saw us and wanted an interview. It was exciting to be on local TV. They asked why we were here, how I saw Iranian people, and why I thought there was a problem between the US and Iran. (I pointed out the "Death to Israel" banner that was prominently displayed in the mosque, for starters.) They fixated on whether our show would actually air...and if we'd spin our report to make Iran look evil.

Leaving the mosque, our crew pondered how easily the footage we'd just shot of the prayer service could be cut and edited to appear either menacing or heartwarming, depending on our agenda. Our mosque shots could be juxtaposed with guerillas leaping over barbed wire and accompanied by jihadist music to be frightening. Instead, we planned to edit it to match our actual experience: showing the guards and "Death to Israel" banner, but focusing on the men with warm faces praying with their sons at their sides, and the children outside scrambling for mulberries.



It occurred to me that the segregation of the sexes ' men in the center and women behind a giant hanging carpet at the side ' contributes to the negative image many Western Christians have of Islam. Then, playing the old anthropologist's game of changing my perspective, I considered how the predominantly male-led Christian services that I'm so comfortable with could also be edited to look ominous to those unfamiliar with the rituals. At important Roman Catholic Masses, you'll see a dozen priests ' all male ' in robes before a bowing audience. The leader of a billion Catholics is chosen by a secretive, ritual-filled gathering of old men in strange hats and robes with chanting, incense, and the ceremonial drinking of human blood. It could be filled with majesty, or with menace...depending on what you show and how you show it.

We set up to film across the vast square from the mosque. My lines were memorized and I was ready to go. Then, suddenly, the cleric with the beaming smile came toward us with a platter of desserts ' the local ice cream specialty, like frozen shredded wheat sprinkled with coconut. I felt like Rafsanjani himself was serving us ice cream. We had a lively conversation, joking about how it might help if his president went to my town for a prayer service, and my president came here. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=144#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=143 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=143 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 05 Apr 2010 09:40:00 PST

Esfahan, Iran's "second city" with over 3 million people, is a showcase of ancient Persian splendor. One of the finest cities in Islam, and famous for its dazzling blue-tiled domes and romantic bridges, the city is also just plain enjoyable. I'm not surprised that in Iran, this is the number-one honeymoon destination.

Everything in Esfahan seems to radiate from the grand Imam Square, dominated by the Imam Mosque ' one of holiest in Iran. Dating from the early 1600s, its towering facade is as striking as the grandest cathedrals of Europe.

We were in Iran for just one Friday, the Muslim "Sabbath." Fortunately, we were in Esfahan, so we could attend (and film) a prayer service at this colossal house of worship.

Filming in a mosque filled with thousands of worshippers required permission. Explaining our needs to administrators there, it hit me that the Islamic Revolution employs strategies similar to a communist takeover: Both maintain power by installing partisans in key positions. But the ideology Iran is enforcing is not economic (as it was in the USSR), but religious.

To film the service ' which was already well underway ' we were escorted in front of 5,000 people praying. When we had visited this huge mosque the day before, all I had seen was a lifeless shell with fine tiles for tourists to photograph. An old man had stood in the center of the floor and demonstrated the haunting echoes created by the perfect construction. Old carpets had been rolled up and were strewn about like dusty cars in a haphazard parking lot. Today the carpets were rolled out, cozy, orderly, and lined with worshippers.

I felt self-conscious ' a tall, pale American tiptoeing gingerly over the little tablets Shia Muslim men place their heads on when they bend down to pray. Planting our tripod in the corner, we observed.

As my brain wandered (just like it sometimes does at home when listening to a sermon), I felt many of those worshippers were looking at me rather than listening to their cleric speaking. Soldiers were posted throughout the mosque, standing like statues in their desert-colored fatigues. When the congregation stood, I didn't notice them, but when all bowed, the soldiers remained standing ' a reminder of the tension within the Islamic world. I asked Seyed to translate a brightly painted banner above the worshippers. He answered, "Death to Israel."



Despite this disturbing detail, I closed my eyes and let the smell of socks remind me of mosques I'd visited in other Muslim countries. I pulled out my little Mecca compass, the only souvenir I've purchased so far. Sure enough, everyone was facing exactly the right way.

Watching all the worshippers bow and stand, and pray in unison, at first seemed threatening to me. Then I caught the eye of a worshipper having a tough time focusing. He winked. Another man's cell phone rang. He struggled with it as if thinking, "Dang, I should have turned that thing off." The mosaics above ' Turkish blue and darker Persian blue ' added a harmony and calmness to the atmosphere.

I made a point to view the service as if it were my own church, back in Seattle. I was struck by the similarities: the too-long sermon, responsive readings, lots of getting up and getting down, the "passing of the peace" (when everyone greets the people around them), the convivial atmosphere as people line up to shake the hand of the cleric after the service, and the fellowship afterwards as everyone hangs out in the courtyard. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=143#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=142 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=142 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 02 Apr 2010 09:48:00 PST

While the focus of my trip to Iran was on the people rather than the politics, Iran's theocracy makes civil rights concerns unavoidable. Civil liberties for women, religious minorities, and critics of the government are the mark of any modern, free, and sustainable democracy. I believe that, given time and a chance to evolve on their cultural terms, the will of any people ultimately prevails. But in Iran, that time is not yet here. For now, this country is not free. (And no one here claims it is ' locals told me, "Iranian democracy: We are given lots of options...and then the government makes the choice for you.") A creepiness that comes with a "big brother" government pervaded the place. Every day during my visit, I wondered how free-minded people cope.

While the Islamic Republic of Iran's constitution does not separate mosque and state, it does allow for other religions...with provisions. I asked Seyed if you must be religious here. He said, "In Iran, you can be whatever religion you like, as long as it is not offensive to Islam." Christian? "Sure." Jewish? "Sure." Bahá'i? "No. We believe Muhammad ' who came in the seventh century ' was the last prophet. The Bahá'i prophet, Bahá'u'lláh, came in the 19th century. Worshipping someone who came after Muhammad is offensive to Muslims. That is why the Bahá'i faith is not allowed in Iran."

I asked, "So Christians and Jews are allowed. But what if you want to get somewhere in the military or government?" Seyed answered, "Then you'd better be a Muslim." I added, "A practicing Shia Muslim?" He said, "Yes." ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=142#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=141 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=141 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Wed, 31 Mar 2010 15:35:00 PST

As I settled into a plane flying between two Iranian towns, the pilot announced, "In the name of God the compassionate and merciful, we welcome you to this flight. Now fasten your seatbelts." Even though Iran is technically a "Shia democracy" with an elected president, the top cleric ' a man called the "Supreme Leader" ' has the ultimate authority. His picture (not the president's) is everywhere.

Seeing the Ayatollah Khomeini from the Iranian perspective was jarring: Rather than the impression I'd long held ' of a threatening, unsmiling ideologue ' many Iranians consider Khomeini a lovable sage...unpretentious, approachable, and a defender of traditional values. After the Shah's excesses and corruption, locals seemed to overlook Khomeini's own brutal tactics. Khomeini's simplicity and holiness had a strong appeal to the Iranian masses. Locals told me that Khomeini had charisma, and if he walked into a room, even I, a non-Muslim, would feel it. To the poor and the simple country folk, Khomeini was like a messiah. As the personification of the Islamic Revolution, he symbolized deliverance from the economic and cultural oppression of the Shah. Khomeini gave millions of Iranians hope. Khomeini's successor, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, has had much less of an impact on the people. (I imagine Shia Muslims miss Khomeini like Catholics miss John Paul II.)

Iranians who support the Revolution call it a "Revolution of Values." Many conservative Iranians I met told me they want to raise their children without cheap sex, disrespectful clothing, drug abuse, and materialism ' all things they associate with America, and all things that, they believe, erode character and threaten their traditional values. It worries them as parents. It seemed to me that many of them willingly trade democracy and political freedom for a society free of Western values (or, they'd say, "Western lack of values"). It's more important to them to have a place to raise their children that fits their faith and their cherished notion of "family values." One mother told me, "We don't want our girls to become like Britney Spears."

Of course, there's plenty of drug addiction, materialism, and casual sex in Iran. But these vices are pretty well hidden from the determination of the theocracy to root them out. In general, the Revolution seems to be well-established. For example, in terms of commercialism, Iran and the US stand at opposite extremes. Back home, just about everywhere we look, we are inundated by advertising encouraging us to consume. Airports are paid to drone commercials on loud TVs. Magazines are beefy with slick ads. Sports stars wear corporate logos. Our media are shaped and driven by corporate marketing. But in Iran, Islam reigns. Billboards, Muzak, TV programming, and young people's education all trumpet the teachings of great Shia holy men...at the expense of the economy. Consequently, many in Iranian society tune into Western media via satellites and the Internet, and barely watch Iranian media. Iran's youth are very Web-savvy.

Despite all of this, when it comes to religion, I was surprised by the general mellowness of the atmosphere in Iran compared to other Muslim countries I've visited. Except for the strict women's dress codes and the lack of American products and businesses (because of the US embargo), life on the streets in Iran was much the same as in secular cities elsewhere. In fact, ironically, despite the aggressively theocratic society, the country felt no more spiritual than neighboring, secular Muslim nations. During my visit, I didn't see spiny minarets and didn't hear calls to prayer ' a strong contrast to my experiences in some other, more moderate Muslim countries, such as Turkey. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=141#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=140 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=140 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Mon, 29 Mar 2010 00:00:00 PST


The seeds of the Islamic Republic of Iran were sowed during the Islamic Revolution in 1979. The rebellion, with its spiritual leader Ayatollah Khomeini, overthrew the US-backed Shah and took 52 Americans hostage for 444 days. As a gang of students captured the world's attention by humiliating the US, this was a great event for the revolutionaries...and a wrenching one for Americans.

The former US Embassy, where the crisis took place, was a stop on our route for filming our TV show about Iran. Our minder/guide, Seyed, seemed almost proud to let us walk the long wall of anti-American murals. He encouraged us to film it, making sure we knew when the light was best for the camera.

As I walked along the wall, it occurred to me that this had happened three decades ago. While it remains a sore spot for many Americans, Iranians ' over half of whom weren't even born at the time ' seemed happy to let the murals fade in the sun. The murals droned on like an unwanted call to battle...a call that people I encountered had simply stopped hearing. In fact, looking back, many Iranians believe that the hostage crisis hijacked their Revolution. By radicalizing their country, it put things in the hands of the more hard-line clerics.

Thirty years on, during my 2008 visit, the Islamic Revolution had become deeply ingrained. After chatting with one young man who didn't look as if he was particularly in compliance with the Revolution, we said goodbye. Later ' after he'd thought about our conversation ' he returned to tell me, "One present from you to me, please. You must read Quran. Is good. No politics." Looking at the evangelical zeal in his eyes, I realized that he had just as earnest a concern for my soul as a pair of well-dressed Mormons who might stop me on the street back home. Why should a Muslim evangelist be any more surprising (or annoying, or menacing) than a Christian one? He simply cared about me. ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=140#comments http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=139 http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=139 rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) Fri, 26 Mar 2010 00:00:00 PST

In Iran, I was keenly aware that I was traveling in a society where morality is legislated ' where a crime is a sin, and a sin is a crime. In their day-to-day lives, the women of Iran are keenly aware of the impact of living in a theocracy. The days when the Shah's men boasted that miniskirts were shorter in Tehran than they were in Paris are clearly long gone. In the post-Islamic Revolution Iran, modesty rules, and the dress and behavior of women are carefully controlled.

While things are casual at home, Iranian women are expected not to show their hair or the shape of their body in public. This means that, when out and about, a proper woman covers everything except her face and hands. There are two key components to traditional dress: Hijab ("hih-JOB") means to be dressed modestly, with the head covered under a scarf. The chador ("shah-DORE") is a head-to-toe black cloak wrapped around the front and over the head. All women must follow hijab rules, and many older, rural, and traditional women choose to wear a chador.

In addition to the dress code, Iranian women face other limitations. They're relegated to separate classrooms and sections in mosques. While they are welcome at more genteel sports, they are not allowed to attend soccer games (for fear that they might overhear some foul language from the impassioned fans). On the subway, women have two options: Ride with men in the mixed cars, or in a separate, women-only car. (When I questioned an Iranian woman about this, she said, "Perhaps the women of New York wished they had a car only for them to avoid the men on their subway trains.")

From a Western viewpoint, it's disrespectful (at best) to impose these regulations on women. But from a strict Muslim perspective, it's the opposite: Mandated modesty is a sign of great respect. In the Islamic Republic of Iran, women's bodies are not vehicles for advertising. Having scantily clad babes selling cars at a trade show would be considered unacceptably disrespectful. You don't see sexy magazines. There is almost no public display of affection. In theory, the dress code provides a public "uniform," allowing men and women to work together without the distractions of sex and flirtation.

Still not buying it? You're not the only one. Local surveys indicate that about 70 percent of these women would dress more freely in public, if allowed. Many push the established bounds of decency ' with belts defining the shape of their bodies and scarves pulled back to show voluptuous cascades of hair ' when out on the streets. When filming, I found the women's awareness of our camera fascinating ' they seemed to sense when it was near, and would adjust their scarves to be sure their hair was properly covered.

In spite of attempts to enforce modesty, vanity is not out of bounds. Women still utilize their feminine charms. In a land where showing any cleavage in public is essentially against the law, a tuft of hair above the forehead becomes the exciting place a man's eye tends to seek out. Cosmetic surgery ' especially nose jobs ' is big business here among the middle class. Faces are beautifully made up, and ' when so much else is covered ' can be particularly expressive and mysterious. Throughout Iran, I was impressed by the eye contact.

Trying to grasp Iran's mandated modesty in Christian terms, I imagined living in a society where every woman is forced to dress like a nun. Seeing spunky young Muslim women chafing at their modesty requirements, I kept humming, "How do you solve a problem like Maria?" ]]> http://www.ricksteves.com/tapa_blog/index.cfm?fuseaction=entry&entryID=139#comments