Wandering on the street after lunch, while others were busy texting on the Internet, I chanced upon a group of men cooking something in big cauldrons.
They seemed friendly. So I went close to look, and found stews of meat and vegetables.
We did not speak each other’s language. But their gestures seem inviting. I believed they were actually inviting me to stay and eat with them. One of them insisted that I at least eat some of the fruit. I peeled and ate an apple, and thanked the man as much as I could.
Later, I found out that they were cooking food to be given to the poor. The day was the eve of a holiday in memory of one of the 12 Imams. That chance encounter is one of my most rewarding moments in Iran. I learn first hand how friendly and charitable the Iranians are.