消逝的天堂：哈勒哈勒——阿塞倫路上的風光

On a recent day in Loomavesht， a village up the Khalkal-Asalem road in north Irans Gilan province， the men sheer sheep and the women clean the wool. A cool mist fills the air， and soon the cold weather will drive most of the villagers and their livestock down the Alborz mountains to live out the winter. During yehlagh， the old Persian name for the warm season， shepherds live here in small huts set into the rolling slopes like mushrooms， but newfangled vacation villas tell of an approaching development boom. Up the hill， the foundations of a concrete compound commissioned by an Isfahan businessman jut out of the ground at right angles.

“Show your films Miss， show them what our village was like before the people of Tehran and Isfahan took over，” a young man tells a filmmaker who has made a series of movies here in the past decade. “Those films are proof of what this place used to look like.”

Miles from the Caspian Sea， Loomavesht is sometimes called “heaven on earth” for its bucolic charm. Filmmakers like Ali Mohammad Ghassemi， Mehrdad Oskooie and Mohammad Ali Talebi have worked in the area for the past two decades， and its from their work that many heard， for the first time， of the traditional dress worn by the women of Talesh， of the scenic landscapes of the Khalkhal-Asalem trail. But as improved connections to the capital lure visitors to the area， Loomavesht locals are forced to make space for modernity.

In Kharjegil， another small village on the Khalkhal-Asalem Road， Amou Nezams cabin is famous for Aash Doogh： soup with garlic， doogh， herbs and chickpeas. As a side business， Amou Nezam arranges property purchases for out of town visitors. “I had a customer from Tehran ask me about buying property here，” says Amou. “I helped him get a 600 square meter piece of land. Shame on me， I made a big mistake.”

The seaside and mountain villages of north Iran have long been a popular vacation destination for city dwellers escaping the traffic and pollution. The province of Mazandaran， closer to Tehran， has morphed into a land of holiday homes. “We were the primary rice producers of the country，” says a shopkeeper from Sari， the capital of Mazandaran. “Then we sold all the rice fields， built villas on top of them. Now， we need to import our rice.”

As we head farther up the road， we reach Loomavesht， then Esbahooni. There were only a few wooden huts here ten years ago， dispersed across the hills. Now， you can see dozens of concrete houses here， displaying Chinese-style red roofs， the contemporary aesthetic of homes across the country.

Tourists come to Esbahooni for its kateh（sticky rice） kabob—mushy northern rice with lamb kabob and fresh butter. Villagers sell their mutton and dairy to the shopkeepers， who cook the kabob and rice. A decade ago， the village consumed what it produced with little connection to the outside world. Villagers drained their sewage into cesspits and burned or composted their trash. At the restaurants， they used reusable dishes. The arrival of tourists has brought the accompanying culture of consumer goods， but there is no trash collection system in place to respond to it.

In Esbahooni， the hillsides are littered with plastic bags， empty soda bottles and junk food wrappers. Locals and homeowners toss them out and burn whatever they collect in big heaps. On those days， the stink of burning plastic overtakes the cool air.

As we drive further northwest to Astara， Ardabil and through the Arasbaran forest where old villages stand in clusters， we find the same symptoms of urbanization. The region is rich with forest wood， and villagers traditionally built wooden huts with the materials around them. These days， the lumber is shipped to Tehran， often illegally， and the houses are rebuilt with aluminum and concrete. “I miss the old house，” says an auto mechanic in Kharjegil. “It was cozy， it was easy to warm…we were told this method is healthier， more modern. Relatives kept telling us to change that old dehati （villager） house.”

Astara， farther northwest of Asalem， was once known for seaside houses with wooden windows and ceramic roofs. During the Ahmadinejad era， the state gave rural residents 8-million-toman loans to refurbish their homes. The villagers tore down their homes， but couldnt afford a complete reconstruction. As they built their new homes， they sold off chunks of their land to make way for vacation homes. The village homes are now made of aluminum and concrete slabs with no adorning facade， and sit next to luxurious vacation homes with elaborate exteriors.

I speak to a married couple， who were villa owners and both doctors from Tehran with children in college. “We love this place，” the wife says. “We get away from the smoke， the pollution， the traffic.” When I ask her if she thinks their very presence is ruining the things she cherishes， she shrugs： “If we didnt buy this land， someone else would.”

With development comes culture clash： villagers accustomed to hauling lumber with donkeys encounter Porsches in their backyard.“The man and woman showed up and I assumed they were a couple， but now he brings a different woman every week， God forgive，” a Kharjegil farmer complains. He is selling off another parcel of his land to afford the reconstruction of his home.

“People from the village sell their property to rent a small apartment in the city. They work in construction， sometimes as laborers on the very lands they sold，” says a Lisar villager who refuses to sell the lot he inherited from his father， despite pressure from his family. He tells me of a young man who sold some property， married and moved to Tehran two years ago to work in construction. “They rented a small basement in the south of Tehran. Their bodies were found in the winter. They died of gas poisoning.” 前不久的一天，在洛瑪夫什——位于伊朗北部吉蘭省的哈勒哈勒—阿塞倫路上的一個村莊，男人們驅趕著羊群，女人們清潔著羊毛。寒霧彌漫在空中，不久，嚴寒的天氣就會把村民們和他們的家畜驅趕下阿爾伯茲山脈，以度過這個冬天。在“耶拉弗”期間——古波斯人們這樣稱呼暖季，牧羊人住在臨時搭建在斜坡上的小棚屋，起起伏伏看起來就像是蘑菇一般，但是新奇的度假別墅預示著另一種繁榮發展的景象即將來臨。就在山上，受一位伊斯法罕商人所托而建造起來的混凝土建筑地基正和地面呈直角狀崛起。

“展示一下你的影片，女士，讓他們看看我們村子在德黑蘭人和伊斯法罕人到來之前是什么樣子的，”一個年輕人向一位電影制作人說道，這位電影制作人在過去的十年里拍了一系列影片?！澳切┯捌茏C明這個地方以前是什么樣子的?！?/p>

里海幾英里之外，洛瑪夫什因其美麗的田園風光有時會被稱為“天上人間”。諸如阿里·穆罕默德·卡西米、邁赫達德·奧斯庫伊和穆罕默德·阿里·塔勒比等電影制作人在這個地方工作了二十年，也正是從他們的作品里，很多人第一次聽說了塔利什女人所穿的傳統裙飾，聽說了哈勒哈勒—阿塞倫路上的優美風景。但由于要修繕連接首都的道路以吸引游客，洛瑪夫什當地人被迫為現代化騰挪空間。

在哈爾杰吉爾，哈勒哈勒—阿塞倫路上的另一個小村莊，阿穆納扎姆的小木屋因其咸酸奶飲料而聞名——一種加有大蒜、酸奶、香草和鷹嘴豆的飲品。阿穆納扎姆的副業是幫助外地游客處理房產購置事務?！拔矣幸粋€從德黑蘭來的顧客想在這里購置房產，”阿穆說道。“我幫他買下了一塊600平方米的土地。我感到羞愧，我犯了個大錯?！?/p>

伊朗北部的海邊和山村一直以來都是廣受城市居民歡迎的度假勝地，在這里，他們可以遠離繁忙的交通和環境污染。毗鄰德黑蘭的馬贊德蘭省，已經轉變為度假村?！拔覀兪沁@個國家的主要大米生產者，”一位來自薩里的店主說道，薩里是馬贊德蘭的省會?！暗俏覀冑u掉了所有的稻田，在稻田上建造別墅。如今，我們的大米需要進口了。”

我們繼續往前走，到達洛瑪夫什，然后是埃斯巴胡尼。十年前，這里僅有一些小木屋，零星分布在山上。如今，你可以在這兒看到許多混凝土房子，展示著中國式的紅屋頂，這代表著當今整個國家對于住宅的審美觀。

游客們為了糯米烤肉串而來到埃斯巴胡尼——軟糯的北方大米與烤羊肉串和新鮮的黃油搭配。村民把羊肉和奶制品賣給店主，店主烤肉串和煮米飯。十年前，村民們自給自足，和外界接觸甚少。村民們將他們的污水排入污糟，將生活垃圾焚燒或制成堆肥。餐館里，使用的都是可重復使用的餐具。游客們的到來帶來了相應的生活消費品文化，但是卻沒有與之應對的垃圾收集系統。

在埃斯巴胡尼，山坡上都堆滿了塑料袋、空汽水瓶和垃圾食品包裝袋。本地人和房屋主人扔掉這些垃圾，積聚成堆之后將其焚燒掉。在那些日子里，塑料燃燒的臭味掩蓋了清爽的空氣。

我們繼續向西北行駛到達阿爾達比勒省的阿斯塔拉市，穿過阿拉斯巴蘭森林，那里村莊群集，我們在那里也發現了相同的城市化癥狀。該地區森林木材資源豐富，傳統上，村民會使用周圍的材料建造小木屋。如今，木材被運往德黑蘭，通常是非法進行的，而村民使用鋁和混凝土重建房屋?！拔蚁肽钆f式房屋，”哈爾杰吉爾的一個汽車修理工說道?！芭f房屋舒適保暖……但是有人跟我們說這種方式更健康、更現代化。親戚們一直勸我們改建舊村屋。”

阿斯塔拉，位于阿塞倫市遙遠的西北部，曾因帶有木制窗戶和陶瓷屋頂的海濱房子而聞名。在阿瑪迪內賈德執政時期，國家給農村居民提供了800萬托曼貸款，用來翻新房屋。村民們拆毀了自己的家園，但卻無法承擔完成重建的全部費用。他們為建設新家園出售了大片土地，為建造度假屋騰空間。村里的房屋現在由鋁板和混凝土板建成，外觀沒有任何裝飾，就坐落在外部精致的豪華度假屋旁。

我與一對已婚夫婦交談，他們是別墅業主，兩個人都是醫生，來自德黑蘭，孩子們都在那里上大學?！拔覀兩類圻@片土地，”妻子說道?！霸谶@里，我們能免受煙霧、污染和繁忙交通之苦?！碑斘以儐査欠裣脒^他們自己正在毀掉她所珍惜的東西，她聳聳肩：“就算我們不買這土地，其他的人也會買。”

隨著發展而來的是文化沖突：村民們習慣使用驢子拖運木材，卻在后院里見到保時捷。“一個男人和女人一起出現，我就認為那是一對夫婦，但是現在他每周都帶著另一個不同的女人，上帝，請原諒，”一位哈爾杰吉爾的農民抱怨道。他正準備以低價再賣掉一塊地來支付重建家園的費用。

“村民們賣掉自己的房產，跑去城市租一間小公寓。他們在工地工作，有時候還在他們賣出的土地上做勞力，”一位村民這么說道，他拒絕出售從父親那里繼承來的土地，即使頂著來自家人的壓力。他告訴我一個年輕人賣了部分房產，兩年前結了婚，搬到德黑蘭做建筑工人?！八麄冊诘潞谔m南部租下一間小地下室。冬天的時候人們發現了他們的尸體，死于煤氣中毒。”