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There's this fire temple Ateshgah, a remain of ancient time and witness of a period of human settlement that hadn't seen Islam in this suburb of Baku, modern day Azerbaijan. Nowadays most people here are Muslims - or non religious due to Soviet History. But there's more than 20 different ethnic groups in this small country and you will find all kinds of people in here. So I went to explore this beautiful relict, myself being passionately curious about the ancient customs of the Zoroastrian worship of fire, the cult of a never ending flow of the world's energy symbolized through eternal fire eased out of the earth in this particular part of the world. So I entered the ruins of this place, closed my eyes and stretched my limbs out.. - enhale... exhale... In the way I like to do it when I visit a realm of supposed high energetic presence, to fill myself with it. Inhale... Exhale... Suddenly... I could hear a voice... A song of Angels, a praise to the lord Ahura Mazda, the one creator, god of all being, that Zoroastrian worship was the first to ever define as one and only God. A prayer from the Gathas , the ancient Avestan cyclus of holy scripts of this religion enchanted and being echoing all through this honourable ruins. I spotted the one chanting and listened to his incomprehensible and yet so mesmerizing words. Goosebumps shivered all over my body. Suddenly he seemed to spot me from above and stopped. I got a little bit worried, did I bother him? I smiled at him. "Dorud" I said, "Dorud" he replied, which is the old Iranian greeting. I talked to him in Farsi: "what an enchanting voice!" He thanked me and started speaking with an accent I hadn't heard before, I somehow understood most though. I explained to him where I am from and what I was doing here, and how I'd been fascinated by Zoroastrian worship and surprised to meet someone in this ruins keeping it alive. He told me that he belongs to the Tat community, a group of ancient Iranian people living in this country for millennia, and how most of them don't follow their ancient roots anymore to that extent. I suggested to get coffee, he suggested to be his guest in his home and to meet his family. He seemed to be surprised and likewise enjoying a lot to meet a foreigner who kind of knows and understands his language. I couldn't deny his offer - he wouldn't let me. Later in his home I would meet his daughters, one of them becoming a doctor and the other one a passionate painter in high school age. Both of them spoke English very well and told be about their dream to travel the world one day and to visit my country as well. I told them to come, all together and invited them for tea in my place. I insisted. With hope that one day, borders will shrink to obstacles barely in our head. Even though I'm pretty sure Shirin will come sooner than I'd expect.