I met Alex for a coffee at the train station before leaving. He was talking to somebody on the phone, he said he was enjoying travelling/leaving people. I liked this much, he was talking about a distant form of participation. He proposed to set up a voicebox for me, I could call it and talk for 1.5 min for free. We agreed to try out first the connection from Teheran, tomorrow morning.

I am at the gate of the airport. The sky is big open. It’s exactly half moon over Zurich.

This is the journal of my journey to the Islam Republic of Iran.

I read in the Zeit about the loneliness of this country, its isolation in the combination of a democratic republic and islamic state form. My interest in this loneliness expands to the aperception of my state (of mind) as a travelling western woman. Being challenged but continuously disconnected in the same time.

Writing as an act of expanded privacy. A foreign language like a tent.