Evil shows perceptions aren't always true

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© St. Petersburg Times
published February 23, 2002

PARK CITY, Utah -- Inside the Den of Evil, there are ferns.

There are flowers and paintings on the wall and a carved, wooden swan on the coffee table. There is a television, fireplace and a clock with Farsi symbols instead of numbers. Outside, near the Garden of Evil, there is a hot tub. Evil has the teapot on.

The Face of Evil looks at you, studying your face while you study his.

The face is young, innocent, and its features are delicate. It has a dimpled chin and a good smile. The eyes are as dark as the hair. Evil looks very much like Elvis Presley at age 22.

The Voice of Evil is speaking now.

The voice is soft, pleading, asking you to listen to its words and not to believe all you have been told. It is talking of dreams and peace and presidents. Then the darndest words come out. Evil is talking about skiing.

"The best time of my life is on skis," Bagher Kalhor said through an interpreter. "When I am making those turns, it refreshes my soul for taking care of other things. I think of the people who are dearest to me when I am skiing."

This is Evil?

This is the face, the words, the home of the enemy?

"When you look at it," Ghorbamali Soolghani suggests, "perhaps perceptions are not complete."

On the outskirts of this ritzy resort town, in a warm, comfortable condo at the foot of the Wasatch Mountains, you will find the Iranian Olympic delegation. They will invite you to remove your shoes and sit with them, to talk of athletes and politics, of differences and similarities, of perceptions and realities.

When you look at it, perhaps it will make you think.

And perhaps that is the point of the Olympics, after all.

"I think our being here and participating in the Olympics is a very positive thing," Kalhor said. "Just being here, we're able to show we're nice guys, normal people. That's what the Olympics are for. They are to bring people together."

For a long time, there have been strained relations between the United States and Iran. The chasm was widened just before the Olympics when President Bush labeled Iran, North Korea and Iraq the "axis of evil."

In response, there were demonstrations in Iran, where protesters yelled "Death to America." It is an unsettling time.

In some ways, then, it is odd to see the Iranians here, dusting the snow from their skis. There are two athletes competing. Kalhor is an Alpine skier. Sayed Mostafa Mirhashemi is a cross-country skier, finishing 79th in the 10-kilometer and competing in today's 50-kilometer. And, they will tell you, people have been wonderful.

The Iranians want you to know this. They talk of the cheers and the flags and people who want to put on their warmup jackets for a picture.

Kalhor talks of an older woman approaching him and talking of his courage for being here. As Kalhor talks, his athlete's credential is on the table. It has a little Coca-Cola bottle attached.

"From the moment we landed in America, to the village, to the ski runs, here in the streets, everywhere, people have been so incredibly welcoming," said Soolghani, Kalhor's coach.

"We've come here. We've had the most wonderful interaction with the American people. It has been warm and welcoming and even better than our expectations."

Over and over, Soolghani says this. The Americans are wonderful. The Olympics are wonderful. You, the guy with the notebook, are wonderful. They are eager for you to like them, desperate for you to listen to them.

They go on and on about the prices in America, where a T-shirt costs 10 times what it does in Iran, and about television cartoons (yes, they get Scooby-Doo) and about what they should bring home to their girlfriends.

And they talk of Bush.

They were hurt, they tell you, when Bush's face remained passive as they filed into the Olympic Stadium for the Opening Ceremony. They took the lack of reaction as injury, coupled with a speech they considered an insult.

"Just as whenever anyone accuses you or insults you, you want to say, "I didn't do that,' " Soolghani said. "I'm not guilty of what you're calling me. (Bush) looked like he was thinking, "Is this what the Axis of Evil looks like? Are these evil people or not evil people?' I hope he was thinking about that."

And should Kalhor somehow win the slalom today, what does he think Bush's reaction would be?

"With the expression on Bush's face when we came into the stadium when our team was announced," Soolghani said, "we think if we win, he'll throw us out by nightfall."

Soolghani laughs. Kalhor laughs. The interpreter does not laugh. The media liaison does not laugh. Both of them, both Americans, plead with you not to print what Soolghani said.

In a way, however, it is the best moment of the 90-minute interview, a glimpse inside the message the men wish to deliver.

Also, there is this:

Kalhor is here to ski.

His story is a familiar one to those of us who love the Olympics. He grew up skiing in the mountains north of Tehran, a shepherd boy from Dizin who loved to follow his brothers down the slopes.

You do not think of ski trails when you think of Iran. But on a given weekend, as many as 60,000 ski in the Alborz mountain range.

Bagher has a twin brother, Seghed, who went with him everywhere. Five years ago, Seghed had a leg amputated after a skiing accident. He will be here for the Paralympics.

For most athletes, from most nations, it is a touching enough story that you need go no further. But these athletes are from Iran. And they have a message for you.

"The people can get along," Soolghani said. "We don't have a quarrel with you. Our people don't have a quarrel with you."

None of this makes Bush wrong or Iran right. It does go to show you nations are made of individuals, and not all of the individuals are exactly like the images you might see on CNN.

It tells you there are Iranians who dream of medals and who are concerned about war. It tells you that, thrown together in a setting, there is a way for most of us to get along. We all want peace. Somehow, it is soothing to hear someone from the other side say so, too.

"With these kinds of articles," Soolghani said, "we can turn a piece of straw into a mountain."

And perhaps we can. If skiers can get along, why can't soldiers? If we can share dreams of performances, why can't we share dreams of peace?

"I wish to thank you," Soolghani said, "for thinking we are not so evil."

Not so evil.

Maybe not so different, either.

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