The Welder of Yazd

I have a friend named Wolf who is a metal sculptor and fine appreciator of life, so when I saw the welding spark glowing inside the dark neighborhood shop last night, I felt compelled to snap a pic of his Iranian fellow artisans. Barely taking a step in the door, the welder instantly turned up the flourescent lights to verify that this strange-looking lady was actually in his workshop. The ambiance of the moment ruined, I wondered if a worthy picture was even possible now.

I ended up getting a lot more than a picture.

Within minutes I'm sitting on a Persian rug in the backyard of their home surrounded by their entire family of ten or more. Smiling face after smiling face kept emerging out of the house - I lost count. The proud pedar (father) introduced me to everyone with such care. He wanted to be sure I understood exactly who everyone was and we pronounced each name in detail together. One daughter took my hand so tightly and kissing me on each cheek let me know how happy she was that I was there. "Amrikari," (American) she kept saying in disbelief. They served me fresh cantaloupe juice and homemade bread while everyone rolled around on the rug laughing at my attempts at Farsi. Who needs the Comedy Channel?

So thanks, Wolf. If it weren't for you I wouldn't have met this incredible Iranian family nor thought to take the pictures... which by the way, you're going to love.