Free Iranian Rappers And Persian Porn by Jamie Maslin Page B

soon,” was all she said before changing the subject tactfully, as if trying to save me the embarrassment of being single. Minutes later we left for another attraction.
    We all piled into the back of a shared taxi, and on the way to our next stop, Kimya queried me repeatedly on what I knew of Islam. We talked religion together for a while and how Christianity, Islam, and Judaism are in fact very similar. Having read a bit about this, I managed to knock out a couple of quotes from the Koran to impress Kimya. I started with Surah 29, where Mohammed instructs his followers, “Do not dispute with the people of the book,” (i.e., Jews and Christians), “ . . . but tell them we believe in the Revelation which has come down to us and in that which came down to you; our Allah and your Allah is one.” Kimya and Shahram were both very pleased and seemed impressed that I knew something of their religion.
    Kimya then told me that when Mohammed entered Mecca in triumph, he ordered the destruction of all idols and images, but when he came across a picture of the Virgin Mary and infant Jesus, he covered it reverently with both hands and said that all other idols were to be destroyed, but the image of the Virgin and Child was to be looked upon as sacrosanct. We then talked about Jesus being a prophet to Muslims and that Mohammed had referred to Jesus as the “breath of God.”
    When we finally got to our destination, I tried to pay for the ride but gave up when Shahram seemed offended that I should try to do such an underhanded and despicable thing.
    “You are our guest!” he said forcefully as he handed the money to the driver.
    “Fair enough,” I thought.
    We had arrived at a magical place called King’s Lake, which Kimya explained was now officially called People’s Lake so as to have no reference to the ousted king of Iran, the Shah. It was a fair-sized lake with many multicolored illuminated fountains and a large restaurant built in the middle, which was accessible via a walkway. This, Shahram explained, had once been a disco when such things were allowed in Iran before the Islamic Revolution. Many people splashed around in little paddleboats, and everybody we passed seemed happy. Surrounding the lake was a park containing some fairground attractions, including a Ferris wheel lit up with twinkling colored lights.
    We strolled leisurely along the outside path of the lake where other people were also walking, relaxing, eating candy floss, roller-skating, and generally enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. The limited visions I’d had of Iran before visiting had been of slightly worrisome street scenes where I’d have to keep my wits about me at all times, lest I be lynched by a mob of anti-Western fundamentalists. The farce of that misconceived image made me laugh now.
    We ambled along in the balmy nighttime summer air to the walkway that led out to the restaurant. Here, I was treated to a yogurt and cucumber, then the finest Iranian style kebabs and rice with a big dollop of butter. We washed this down with cool beaded bottles of Sprite served with straws. It was strange to be in such an ambient restaurant without being able to order from a wine list and instead to be drinking through a straw. Over dinner, we talked about all manner of things, including our hobbies. They were both amazed to learn I skydived and got me to talk about this for a good fifteen minutes. They kept shaking their heads in astonishment. I promised to e-mail them a photo of me doing this, which both seemed genuinely excited about receiving.
    When it was time to pay, I didn’t really know what to do, but I decided to offer and did so three times. In the end, it was no good and I was overruled by the pair of them, but I felt better for trying.
    Walking back through the park, we chatted about Iranian cinema, and I told them I had seen the Oscar-nominated Iranian film Children of Heaven (which, dear reader, if you haven’t yet seen I’d highly recommend, as