The scope of traveling that students undertake at NYUAD during their undergraduate career is so wide that it has become one of the attributes of the university as well as a subject of slight jealousy. The jealousy is usually reflected in numerous remarks from peers: Do you even study? How do you get to travel so much? Student travel, however, goes deeper than that.

My travel experiences have enriched me in ways that few other things could: I have seen very different lifestyles and values, I have an idea about the world and I can understand both myself and other people better. It is precisely this element of the NYUAD experience that I deem to have the most powerful influence on my growth through these four years.

For me, Persia — Iran's official name until 1935 — has always been this mysterious place, featured on the news for all the wrong reasons. My stubbornness to only believe what’s in front of my eyes, coupled with my curiosity and Iran's proximity to Abu Dhabi, have led me to choose it as my spring break destination. “Iran? Seriously?” was the general reaction to my travel plans, but that did not deter me from taking the Etihad EY343 flight to Tehran.

Once my visa was stamped by a gloomy immigration officer, I completely immersed myself into a different environment. Dramatically set against the mountains, Tehran and its bustling population of 15 million welcomed me with the pleasantly cool weather. An angry taxi driver, demanding ten times what I thought we had agreed upon, refused to let me go, which resulted in a friendly conversation with the police. Such a cold beginning made me second-guess myself: did I still want to explore this country or did I want to change my return ticket? I checked in a hotel near Imam Khomeini Square and decided to give Iran a chance.

In the morning, I obtained some of the ever-depreciating Iranian rials and then explored Tehran on foot and by subway, receiving numerous curious looks, shy smiles, and basic questions about myself from little kids and the elderly alike. I visited the iconic Azadi Square, where demonstrations during the Islamic revolution took place in 1979, and which had delicious kebab with rice at a nearby cafe and stopped by a travel agency to see about tickets to Isfahan, considered by many to be the Jewel of Iran. My request of a sleeper train was not understood by a staff member. I realized I was taking a domestic flight from Tehran to Isfahan in four hours. Given the 28 U.S. dollars it cost me, I could not complain. Tehran's domestic airport reminded me of the USSR, with its gloomy architecture and old, run-down facilities. But the check-in was quick, and I had time to sip tea outside in the company of taxi drivers. The 45 minute IranAir flight on a Shah-era Boeing-727 went smoothly.

Esfahan is famous for its palaces and mosques with stunning Persian architecture, parks, bridges, and a more laid-back atmosphere compared to Tehran. I explored the Naqsh-e Jahan Square and its mosques. I haggled over handicrafts at the central bazaar, making conversation with very friendly locals along the way. Esfahan was filled with local tourists enjoying the Norouz, the Zoroastrian calendar's New Year.

I took a break and sat on the grass, people-watching and admiring the beauty of the place. After a few general conversations with curious locals, I experienced something I will be never able to forget: an Iranian man came up to me and asked if I wanted to join his family for lunch on the grass. I agreed immediately, and soon Farhad, his wife, two children and I were enjoying kebabs, rice, vegetables and doogh, an Iranian yoghurt-based drink. Farhad was eager to learn about my life and experience in Iran so far, while I took the opportunity to ask all the questions that I had collected over my three days of travel. We got in the car and drove around Isfahan. We walked the bridges of Isfahan, stopped for tea, and agreed to meet the next day. The agenda was ambitious: Farhad picked me up, we hiked the mountains around Isfahan. Then, we came back to his house just in time to watch the most important soccer game in Iran — the derby between the Isfahan and Tehran teams — and enjoyed a delicious home-cooked dinner. None of the stereotypes I heard about Iran were proven correct during my trip. Not a single time did I feel unsafe during my six days in Iran.

Always the center of attention anywhere I went, I felt very welcome. I felt the warmth in the words and smiles of Iranian people, just as I felt the warmth of the Persian kebabs with rice.

Flying back over the mountainous landscape of Iran, I reflected on my learning experience. Yes, Iran is a country that has a serious reputational problem as an axis of evil. It may not be the most technologically advanced country. It may even seem to behave aggressively on the international political arena, but its people are the most welcoming I have met so far, and this should serve as a good reason to always see something for yourself before you take a stance against it. Don't be afraid to look deeper inside. Look in the places nobody does and you can find gold.

When it was time to say goodbye, Farhad apologized for the lack of time and hospitality on his part and asked me a rhetorical question, which best summarized my Iranian experience: “See, we're not evil people, right? Iran is a good place.” I promised Farhad to tell people my Iranian story.