My friend Sayed called my mobile from Ramallah this afternoon. He was very depressed about the election results in the Palestinian Authority, and I guess he just wanted to emote a little. I just feel like running away for awhile, he said gloomily.

At the time I was in the middle of lunch with Hossein and some doctoral candidates and faculty at Tel Aviv University's Centre for Iranian Studies. I'd just been discussing the results with one of the doctoral candidates and the interesting thing is that neither of us was particularly alarmed that Hamas had won 75 of the Palestinian Parliament's 132 seats. Like Imshin, we were actually impressed that the elections had been clean, fair and transparent; we too saw the vote not as popular support for terrorism but rather rejection of the chaos and corruption over which Fatah had presided. I'm no expert on Palestinian politics and I have no idea what the Hamas victory will bring in the long run. Like everyone else, I can only speculate. And I don't like to speculate. All I can say is that I'm not hysterical, I'm not depressed and I'm willing to wait and see what happens next before I even start to adopt an attitude beyond curiosity.

Hossein's presentation at the university attracted more people than the room could hold. About 25 students were turned away, and the university is already asking him to make another presentation before he leaves. I was fascinated by the number of Internet geeks who had come to hear about how Iranian bloggers were managing to circumvent government censorship. There were also, of course, many students of Persian history, literature and culture. Some were Iranian, but most were not - and those who were not were studying a country they could never visit. After the presentation was over, people lined up to ask more questions, thank Hossein for coming and offer their phone numbers in case he wanted any help or information.



After we'd had lunch Liora, a doctoral candidate who is writing her dissertation on Iranian women's magazines of the 1960s and 1970s, walked us over to a university cafe, where we had a date for coffee with my most excellent friend, Allison. On the way over, Hossein asked Liora, who is an Ashkenazi with no Persian family connections, how she became interested in studying Iran. She said that she'd fallen in love with Persian poetry when she took an undergraduate course.

Really, asked Hossein. Could you recite your favourite poem, in Persian, for my recorder?

Liora demurred, saying she was ashamed of her accent. But she did agree to recite the Hebrew translation of this beautiful poem by Saadi.

The Children of Adam are limbs of each other
Having been created of one essence.
When the calamity of time afflicts one limb
The other limbs cannot remain at rest.
If thou hast no sympathy for the troubles of others
Thou art unworthy to be called by the name of a man.

Photos taken at Tel Aviv University are on my Flickr account.