When I finally knew I was going to Iran, I started stressing about the heat. Hijab refers to the head cover of women, as well as the modest dress that is required of every female, local or foreign, in Iran.

I’ve lived in shorts and dresses for so long that I almost immediately feel warm when anything covers my legs.

I turned my closet inside out, looking for the lightest fabrics I could find. When I thought I had gotten it all figured out, I remembered my Iranian friend mentioning that April weather in Iran was light and cool.

A quick Google revealed highs of 20 and lows as low as – ACK! – six degrees! I dumped the light clothing (including my portable fans) and went rummaging through my winter clothes.

I’m a lightweight when it comes to the cold. I actually try to avoid air-conditioning unless it’s absolutely scorching outside. Otherwise, I’m quite happy with an electric fan pointed steadily at me.

But I was just in Paris last December so I knew what clothes to bring. And I had just bought several coats from the neighborhood ukay-ukay (second-hand shop) that could serve as manteau s (- those coat dresses that Iranian women wear).

As the plane was landing in Tehran, I put on my hijab and manteau. Mahsan approved but Zahra laughed at the way I tied my scarf. “You’re supposed to have half of your hair showing,” she teased as she adjusted it for me.

So much for modesty.

Even before we got off the plane, I felt stifled. “God, it’s hot!” I said out loud.

“Get used to it,” one of the men called out.

He wasn’t kidding.

I have no clue what all that six-degree weather was about but it was hot when we got there. Well, not hot HOT. It was cool outdoors and warm indoors and we were indoors a lot. And even when it was cool outdoors, when you’ve got that big-ass sun shining down on you, it can still get pretty warm underneath that hijab.

It’s no coincidence that hijab sounds like “head job” because it can sure do your head in. I kept some anti-anxiety pills on hand in case I got really close to giving in to the urge to rip my clothes off.

I have no idea how the Iranian women do it. They carry it off with such panache, while I just looked like a peasant. I think they use a lot of clips and have very big hair underneath… And, boy, do they know how to work the eye make-up!

Of course, when I got to people’s houses, they’d invite me to remove my hijab. Um, yeah, right. I’ve only got hat-hair now, don’t I? Let’s see, look like a peasant or go around with hair matted to my skull? I think I’ll stick to looking like I pick fruit, thank you.

When we were in the subway, packed in like sardines, I whispered to the girls, “At least, it’s not too hot in here.” Then Mustafa tapped me and motioned to my head. Apparently, my hijab had slipped off.

Another time, while lounging around, waiting for lunch to be served, I started rolling up my jeans. Mustafa quickly stopped me before the sight of my ankles could cause a riot.

Apart from the heat, the hijab can also make one hard of hearing. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you, I’ve got a hijab in my ear.”

My hat’s off (indeed) to the beautiful women of Iran, who managed to look stunning underneath the veil. Here is my photo tribute to them.