Salmiya

“He always wants to go to places I have never even heard about!” Madame Hanan in the Salmiya office of Alghanim Travel did not really complain to the fat Kuwaiti lady sitting in front of her with her two daughters. It was Ramadan, and the office had opened again late. “Yazd!” the fat lady replied. “I’ve never heard either.” “Well,” I tried to explain, “it’s the center of Zoroastrianism in Iran, don’t you know?” She didn’t. I talked about fire temples, eternal flames. An ancient religion, much older than Islam. “So what?” she asked me. “That is why you want to go there? Do you really want to see that? Worshipping fire?” It was hopeless. Madame Hanan made the fat lady's reservations while her daughters started staring at me. I loved these late evening visits at Hanan’s office, close to the Al-Qana’a Towers, my residence. I spent hours there, and my destinations always turned out to be an extra challenge for Hanan. She was from Palestine and I could feel the pain when she talked about...