We call him Brain. He’s the newest addition to Team Will Run Iran. Essence-wise, he is a blend of Stephen Hawkins and The Brain (from Pinky and The Brain).  Saturating the room in an aura of concentrated brain cells and fine diction, he effortlessly concocts a symphony of the intellect. He has a well developed  cultural wisdom and sensitivity,  and clear insight into what we’re going up against.

A phD in various backgrounds, he has a past as a legal advisor in the UK and in the Iranian judicial system. Within a few minutes of what turned out to be a 3 hour meeting about the project, I felt an immediate sense that he was an aged ambassador of sorts, with pure no-bullshit antics. I showed him Kintaro Walks Japan to rev him up for the mission. He mentioned his connections with the Ministry Of Foreign Affairs (MFA) and volunteered to try his channels. We came up for an action plan for the next few days, which involves the following:

*Brain to speak to his contact in the MFA to determine where the wrench is the system and explore the possibility of strings being pulled in this respect. *To give Saydonlu a precise deadline and mention exploring other channels. *To head down to Parliament with Captain and explore his connection: Foreign Minister Mottaki et al

Meanwhile on the Saydonlu front: he couldn’t make it back in time from the north for a dinner he was attempting to have with us last nite. But he rescheduled for tomorrow evening. At that time, he may have some news for us or we’ll simply wrap him in freshly harvested donkey hide and feed him hot sugar filled pastries. We’ll see what happens.

In the world of wrestling, I managed to catch the final round of the Takhti Cup, a popular international wrestling tournament that over 12 Americans were a part of this year. I was excited to enter the Azadi stadium, often touted in Sports articles to be the most notorious wrestling venue due to its capacity and the rowdiness of the Iranians during the event. After passing through security, where they primarily scan you for cigarettes, I found myself in a large half filled complex comprised of hairy men. No women. A sort of high school locker room energy pervaded. When I asked someone why this is the case, they responded, “Are you kidding me? Do you think they’d let woman see men like this?” (pointing at the tight outfits grappling on the mat). I kept thinking: this is a sport, not a lusty activity.

Iran finished 1st , Russia 2nd, and US came in 3rd. I had a few words with the giddy American couch I had run into at the airport a few days ago. It was tough getting close enough to the wrestlers. There was a security dude every 5 feet that was appointed to prevent men from standing near the railings. It didn’t make much sense why they enforced this so passionately, as if its a bunch of Elvis’ out on the mats. It felt as if the guards were suicide combatants perhaps, ordering “back off from the railing” or “sit down.”

Men selling peanuts and such in funny outfits would appear every now and then with a slurred and mumbly marketing strategy. I think the hours of potent body odor was drowning their mental faculties and motor skills. I managed to get over to a corner where I flagged down one of the American wrestling couches and he had a few words to say: “We’re excited to come to a country where wrestling is a major sport. I wish we’d done better but we got two bronzes…..I had a great hotel the last few days and all the Iranians have been so kind to us, plus we had an excellent steam bath and Jacuzzi at the hotel….” Several camera men took pictures of him from the ground, capturing both of us as I awkwardly loomed over him from a railing 20 feet above to speak to him. The metal offering ceremony consisted of what appeared to be skinny 11 year old boys in wrestling outfits marching up to a stage and serving men in suits with metals that were soon placed around the wrestlers. The scent of fervent arm pits and overall body odor were unrelenting.