(Wind whispering)
Jordan: There are places
you don't understand,
but you go.
Along the way,
there are glimpses...
(Street din)
(Doors thud)
...fragments...
(Engine revving)
(Cheerful yelling)
...parts of a whole
we'll never fully know.
♪
As travellers, we never
see the complete mosaic.
♪
♪
For every open door,
there's another
with missing keys,
light and shadow
we can't see into.
♪
(Wind whistling)
♪
We are curious visitors
from afar,
warmly welcomed
at every stop.
Welcome.
♪
Jordan:
Meanwhile,
we're under the watchful eye
of Iran's Foreign Ministry.
♪
But here,
high in the mountains,
it's as if the blinds
are drawn closed.
(Echoing footsteps)
(Together but out of synch)
Welcome to Iran.
(Giggling)
Man:
Come on.
(Speaking other language)
(In unison)
Welcome to Iran.
Welcome to Iran.
Welcome to Iran.
(Playful chatter)
♪
(Clapping)
♪
(Singing in other language)
♪
(Sina speaks in other language:
translation on screen)
♪
♪
(Sina speaks in other language:
translation on screen)
♪
♪
(Sina speaks in other language:
translation on screen)
♪
♪
(Sina speaks in other language:
translation on screen)
♪
♪
♪
(Sina speaks in other language:
translation on screen)
♪
♪
(Singing in other language)
♪
♪
♪
♪
(Singing fades)
Jordan:
After skiing,
we're welcomed by
a group of locals
at a traditional
Iranian bath.
♪
The bath is tucked away,
hard to find.
It feels somehow
like we've infiltrated
their private social club
where old friends
catch up.
A son
washes his father.
And there's a 250-pound man
whose job is to serve
a painful massage
in the old ways.
(Heydar speaks in other
language: translation on screen)
♪
♪
(Heydar speaks in other
language: translation on screen)
♪
♪
♪
♪
(Chanting in other language)
(Chanting continues)
(Chanting continues)
(Woman speaks in other language:
translation on screen)
(Both women speaking over each
in other language)
(English translation on screen)
♪
(Second woman speaks in other
language: translation on screen)
♪
♪
♪
♪
Jordan: There's a joke in Iran
that goes:
Woman's voice:
We used to drink in public
and pray in private.
Now we pray in public
and drink in private.
Jordan: In ski chalets,
hotels and apartments
in the mountains
north of Tehran,
a familiar scene
plays out.
It could be Chamonix,
Whistler or Jackson Hole.
A mundane scene elsewhere,
but here, it defies the moral
standards of the state
beyond its view.
Every Iranian has
their own private world.
Each day is series
of seamless movements
back and forth
fluidly
between public
and private lives.
They are expert navigators
between worlds.
♪
♪
♪
♪
♪
Young and old,
civil servants, diplomats,
self-professed ski bums
weave in and out
of the mountains here
in a way similar
to their private homes.
A place to linger,
to wander,
to go fast or slow,
to make a turns
where they like.
♪
(Sina speaks in other language:
translation on screen)
♪
♪
♪
(Sina speaks in other language:
translation on screen)
♪
♪
♪
♪
Jordan:
When we ski,
we all recede into
a solitude of the mountains.
That hint,
the thrill we see
in another person's turns,
perhaps that's all
we'll ever know
of their private world.
Glimpses
are all we get.
♪
♪
♪
♪
♪
♪
♪
♪
♪
♪
♪
♪
