Perhaps that is true, although the truth depends on one's viewpoint. I think of Iran as primitive in a different sense, in the sense of being closer to God, man and nature. Here in Iran, everything is broken pavement, weeds growing in an atmosphere of infinite risk and possibility. Faith and myth are part of the fabric of daily living. Simple people stop in their tracks to pray when the muazzin's call to prayer drifts from the mosques.
Sophisticated people believe in miracles.
Such innocence is rare in the country where I make my home. I must bring my daughter halfway across the world to experience it. My family here complains that Iranians become colder and more self-centered day by day, as the economy crumbles and the battle for survival worsens. Yet the fruit is ripe, the wash dries on the line, and when a car breaks down in crowded Tehran, there is no shortage of people stopping to offer advice, water, a ride. Despite a web of taboos and conventions, lives are lived ad hoc, not ordered and groomed and managed.