Still full from last nights extravaganza of Iranian dishes, I feel a small sense of horror to be wakening up in Taromsa at dawn to the sounds and smells of Mohmeni preparing breakfast.  Taromsa in the morning sure is a pretty occurrence as the video below shows:

I am skilled in obeying Iran’s etiquette of accepting food on offer and I eat as much as I can.   After breakfast I thank Mohmeni greatly, explaining that I must be on my way.  Of course she doesn’t understand what I’m saying as I pull my ruck sack on once more.  I figure the addition of a goodbye wave is going to seal the deal and I’ll be on my way. But Mohmeni hobbles over and takes the rucksack in her hands, pulling it back off.  This time I resist, tugging back to release her grip; “I really must be going now”.


This seventy year old was having none of it.  She holds on tight.  I know she is weak and it’s taking great effort on her part to keep hold.  What am I to do?  She isn’t letting go.  She’s seventy years old.  Now making ‘stay here’ movements with her hands.  I cave.  I drop the rucksack to the floor and sit back down.  I simply don’t have the heart to run away from a seventy year old women.  I would have to try to leave again tomorrow.



Tomorrow arrives and again after breakfast I attempt to leave and again the same scenario takes place.  I have things to do; people to meet; I need to leave Taromsa.  My body may not be chained but my morals sure are and I feel trapped, not really knowing what to do in this situation.


After three mornings of trying to leave Mohmeni and Taromsa, I give up altogether.  If I’m not trying to leave then I’m not a prisoner.  I remain in the rice fields of Taromsa for several days, not quite sure how to leave.  Unknown to me, this was to be one of my greatest experiences in all my travelling years.  Everything randomly coming together, to allow me the unique and rare experience of life in a traditional rice farming village; a world untouched by time.

After trying so hard to leave I knew there was nowhere else in the world I was meant to be right now than in the rice farming village of Taromsa.


Look forward to sharing all the simplicity and joys that make this a humbling yet extraordinary place to be.  Thank you for reading.  WBG.  xx