Fire and Purity in Yazd
Stepping into the extremes
Much of Iran is desert-like. But then there is Yazd, where the real desert begins. It took a whole day to drive here from Shiraz, across a few barren mountain passes. It was on this day that I fully realized the wisdom of planning this trip in October. Coming here in the summer would be visiting the inside of a kiln. The Dasht-e Lut, a region just east of here, is one of the driest and hottest places on Earth.
There were a few sites to see along the way in the town of Abarkuh.
The tree above, according to local records, is 4,000 years old. Recently, Japanese and Russian tree experts concluded that it is indeed that age, if not older. It has a park dedicated to it alone. The cypress tree is one of the most potent symbols in Iranian culture and can be found in artwork going back to Achaemenid times. Note the shape! It is said that the Shiraz-style dome is modeled after its profile.
Also, in the town of Abarkuh is an icehouse from the days before refrigeration.
We arrived at night in Yazd. The city has two sections: the modern part that sprawls across the desert floor and the dense, compact old town. We were fortunate to have a hotel in the old town, with its winding streets and tall, mud-brick walls.
Zoroastrianism is one of the oldest religions still practiced today. It began in either the 16th century BCE or the 6th century BCE, depending on which historical interpretation you prefer. Yazd hosts one of the largest resident populations of Zoroastrians in the country. It may come as a surprise to know that they can exist here at all, given the extreme religious tenor of the current Islamic government.
They did suffer significantly in the 600s when Zoroastrianism was the dominant religion in Iran and identified as a threat by Arab invaders. Persecutions abounded for many years as wholesale conversion to Islam spread through the deserts and mountains.
Through all of this, a core of Zoroastrians clung to their beliefs, sometimes in secret, or fled to less hostile jurisdictions. After centuries of this, things improved. Today, Zoroastrianism is an accepted faith in Iran and is still practiced by perhaps 30,000 citizens. Interesting related fact: Judaism and Christianity are also officially accepted faiths. Adherents of all these non-Islamic religions are (almost) equal citizens. Some hold seats in parliament. I say practically equal because only Muslims can become president or attain any of the other ‘highest political offices.’
Thank the Qajars for this leniency. During the Qajar Dynasty (1789–1935 CE), reforms did away with most of the demeaning and dehumanizing treatment of non-Muslims in Iran. I could give historical examples of what things were like before the Qajars. But they are depressing and sadly reminiscent of so many other cases of historical or current inter-religious discrimination practiced by just about any one faith against another.
We visited the most important Zoroastrian fire temple in Iran. Most of the others were leveled centuries ago and replaced by mosques. It appears small and simple because it is meant to look that way. To the Zoroastrians, temples are just conduits for worship and mean little in themselves. The above photo cannot capture the peaceful music lilting through the courtyard on loudspeakers, interspersed with intoned passages from the Avesta (holy book). The ambiance reminded me of the Sikh Golden Temple in Amritsar, India.
This temple is significant because it houses the oldest eternal flame. This fire has been burning continuously for eons. During the centuries of persecution and temple destruction, it was shuttled around and hidden in one cave after another, all the while tended to constantly by priests.
It has been used to kindle many other flames in temples worldwide. Don’t ask me how they got a sample of this flame to a temple in California, but they did.
Quick summary of what the flame means. Zoroastrians are not fire worshipers. They only believe in maintaining the purity of the four elements (earth, water, air, fire), and fire is the one element that requires the most care to preserve. The central tenets of Zoroastrianism are simple: Be good in thoughts, be good in words, and be good in deeds.
The grim Towers of Silence, in the time before the Arab invasions, were everywhere in Iran, usually built on the tops of hills. This is where the Zoroastrian dead were laid to rest. The deceased, having been given a last farewell by family and friends, was carried by a special priest (called a nasa a salar) to the top of the hill and laid out on a stone platform.
The death of a person creates a dilemma for Zoroastrians. A dead body is believed to be contaminated. Interring it in the ground will pollute the earth. Burning it will pollute the air. Leaving it out in the desert will invite wild animals to dismember it and spread it all over the place.
The solution was the Tower of Silence, isolated from everything and surrounded by a wall to keep animals out. The body could just lay there and decompose forever, out of sight. Bones left over were swept into the pit shown above that my daughter looks like she is about to fall into.
What about vultures? Well, nothing is perfect. They can carry body parts away as well, and they have, later stumbled upon by hapless city residents. Which is why the towers are no longer used. Back in the day, when they were out in the middle of nowhere, it wasn’t an issue. But now, many have been enveloped by urban development.
Yazd, inhabited from at least Achaemenid times, earned fame as a major link along the prolific trade routes between Anatolia and the Levant to the west and India to the east. It also became known as the ‘Home of Piety’ due to the many religious structures built here over the centuries. Our few days were hopelessly inadequate for fully exploring this beautiful city. We saw what we could in our brief visit.
Iranian tradition elevates extensive public gardens as a focus of urban life. Dowlat Abed Garden is The largest in Yazd, built in 1160 AH (about 1747 CE).
The wind tower is an ingenious design that grapples with the searing heat of this region. Moving air passes into slits in the hexagonal tower above and is channeled downward. In doing so, it cools and offers up a sort of natural air conditioning to all the rooms below.
The numerous small wooden pegs sticking out of it serve two functions. They provide flexibility to the overall structure in case of earthquakes, and pigeons use them as perches. The poop thus accumulated on the roof is swept up and used as fertilizer.
The old town centers around the Amir Chakhmaq Complex. It was first constructed in the Timurid Era (1400s CE). Here, a famous celebration honoring the third Imam Husayn ibn Ali (called Nakhl Gardani) is held annually. For a brief rundown on the significance of Husayn and other Imams in Shi’a Islam, please read my other article here.
There is always a never-ending parade of mosques to see in Iran. The biggest one in Yazd is of particular grandeur and features on one of the national banknotes. It is called the Jameh Mosque. There are many mosques with the title ‘Jameh’ in Iran; all it really means is that this mosque is the preferred destination for Friday prayers (the Muslim holy day). While worshipers may pray at any local mosque during the week, coming here on Friday is considered better.
The fantastic tilework on this structure has a style specific to the Yazd region. The predominant colors used are blue and cream/beige. These mirror colors are characteristic of harsh desert regions.
A late afternoon stroll through the alleys of the old city put us in a quiet mood, the sun too low now to shine into the narrow passages. As with Shiraz, I could feel time slowing down, as if burdened by the passing of millennia and conflicted human history captured in every little physical detail.
In the early evening, our guide hit upon the idea of seeing a group of athletes practicing traditional sports. It was not included in the tour, so we shelled out the equivalent US $2 entry fee to the sports club.
The sport, a type of martial arts, is called varzesh-e bastani (also varzesh-e pahlavani), and the gym is known as a zurkhaneh. Live music and singing emanated from the musician on the elevated stand at the far wall. The idea is to hold the wooden mace-like objects (called mil) and, to the beat of the music, flip them repeatedly over their shoulders. The mil come in various sizes and weights.
This sport goes back a long, long time and simulates an ancient practice that soldiers performed as a warm-up before going to battle. If the mil weren’t convincing enough as mock-up weapons of war, later in the evening, they brought out masses of metal blades that they danced around with.
By the following day, we were already leaving Yazd. Our route was north and west, passing through the towns of Meybod and Na’in.
We stumbled across a wedding party in Na’in. It wasn’t the ‘real’ wedding, but a smaller, earlier affair with just the two families, held to bring them together — perhaps for the first time — and also to fill out some official paperwork. Regardless, everyone dressed up. Though the bride and groom gracefully allowed us to take their photos, I don’t feel right showing them here. There were also four wedding singers. They were thrilled when they saw my daughter and fawned over her endlessly.
I end with that photo. Every time I see it, I still feel the emotion of our short interaction with this relaxed and happy wedding party. Some intangible thing, the feeling of being entirely transported outside myself for a moment, where everything is completely foreign and also wholly relatable. Out here in the unforgiving deserts of Central Asia.
For the other articles I’ve written about my family’s trip to Iran in 2022, please read:
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