Mystic Iran, The Unseen World

Dedicated to the Citadel of Arg Bam.

The ancient Citadel of Arg Bam, located in the heart of the Iranian desert, on the edge of the silk road, in the province of Kerman, survived invasions, wars, and time. On December 26, 2003, an earthquake shook the fortress down.

In spring of 2000, during the filming of Mystic Iran, I spent Norouz Holidays (Persian New Year), in the Citadel of Arg Bam and I tried to capture the memory of this ancient city. If only I had known.....I would have captured thousands of these moments.

Not known to many, Arg Bam was one of the wonders of the world. Even though, not much information would be found about the accurate date of the construction of the ancient fortress; according to historians, its construction dates back to 2000 years ago. It has been restored throughout the years and it was a residential city up to 150 years ago.

Upon my arrival in the Kerman airport from Tehran, I hired a taxi, which drove me to the new Arg Bam resort to join a friend who was performing in the art center. The road was more than a three to four hours drive, passing through the never-ending desert.

The next day, we drove from New Arg Bam resort to the city of Bam, the city of narrow alleys, palm groves and citrus gardens, and then we drove to the Citadel of Arg Bam.

My knowledge about the citadel goes back to history books and recently, an article in National geographic magazine. I wondered why as an Iranian, I never paid attention to our history, our treasures and I promised myself to visit Arg Bam, on my next trip to Iran.

And here was the citadel; the grand gate, the ramparts, pass-ways and the spirit of the city, reminding us of a glorious distant past. The main south gate was open to the public. There were mainly a few local tourists, but later on, I realized some Europeans were coming with their tours. From the main gate, we entered a narrow alley, which was what remained of an ancient bazaar where the core of the business was conducted at the time of the Silk Road. It is believed that the bazaar dates back to the Safavid period, and was once covered with domes.

From there, a young man, an archeologist in charge of the citadel, volunteered to guide me around the complex. Arg Bam was built on an igneous rock hill, covering an area of about 240,000 square meters of mud-brick, seven levels high, each dedicated to a specific social order.

The old city, on the flat and surrounding the bazaar, was a labyrinth-like city, with small, dark rooms, corridors and courtyards inhabited by merchants and the working class.

We visited a Zoorkhaneh (traditional gymnasium), deep under ground, but still remaining intact, and a public bath. At higher level, there was the school, a fairly large and sunny edifice, along with the Grand Mosque, dating back to the Safavid period. The prison compound was located further back from the main gate and the main building appeared to have been restored quit often, throughout the years.

Walking up toward the Four Seasons or governor's house, we passed by stables and the Garrison, dating back to the Saljouq or the Timurid period. The guard rooms or rather cave-like cells were dark and more like dungeons, away from sun and in a section of labyrinth and connected passages. I wondered why every house and every room had to be so dark, and our guides answer was that the use of mud-bricks and the construction of the dark rooms were to protect the inhabitants from both the heat and the cool weather of the desert climate.

From there, we headed for the Four-Season building (the governors palace). We walked further up the hill, under the sunny afternoon. Halfway up, we reached a small, yet well-designed teahouse, where we took a moment to rest and we got the chance to talk and know a wonderful and generous woman from Bam, who managed the tearoom. My friends settled in the tearoom and I went along to higher levels with the guide.

Reaching the top, I realized that the entire citadel was surrounded by a green and infinite field. Our guide explained that the citadel was built in such a way that any body approaching the city, from any corner, could be spotted miles away.

In a remote shady corner, I saw an old Dervish telling stories, the Martyrdom of Karbala, tales from Islam. The art of story telling is known to be the basis for the creation of movie theaters. Years ago, when and where television and movie theaters didnt exit yet, the story teller went from city to city to tell stories about the Persian kings, kingdoms and Tales from Islam, all depicted on a canvas. The only difference was that our storyteller spoke into a microphone, had eyeglasses on his forehead and had no audience to tell the story to.

On the top most level, we passed by the main observation tower and reached the governor's quarters, or Chahar-Fasl (Four Seasons) Building. The Four Seasons quarter was made up of four small rooms, big enough to lodge one or two persons. All rooms were connected to each other by open doors, and each was built and designated for each seasons, depending on the direction of the sun. I noted that two of the rooms had small fireplaces, known as winter and autumn quarters. The spring and summer rooms had private terraces, overlooking the field. The quarters were a wonder of architectural and scientific precision, along with beauty, views and strategy for a ruler. The Four Seasons and the main observation tower are believed to belong to the Safavid period. But some historians and archeologists believe that these portions belonged to the pre-Islamic period and were a fire-temple, at one time.

Coming down from the main observation tower, I saw two black shadows, like two black ravens, sitting in the open window of the wall. Walking closer, I saw two women wrapped in black veils, taking shelter in the shadow. The moment they saw my camera, they turned away, hiding their faces. I remembered that in Moslem countries, most women refuse to be photographed.

I spent the entire day walking around trying to comprehend and feel the life in this magnificent place. I wondered about its past residents. I wished I could time travel and experience what life was like at that time.

Now, I wonder where my friends are; the people who welcomed me that day? Did they survive the disaster?

Arg Bam was destroyed and repaired so many times. Will it be refurbished once again?