Chief -International Correspondent
In the heart of the Iranian capital, the Boof Cafe serves refreshing cold drinks on a hot summer day.
You have to be the most striking Iced Americano clothing in this city.
Since Washington, the relationships with Tehran to Tehran after the Iranian Revolution of 1979 and the hostage crisis, which was still a long shadow on this winding relationship, has been plastered with high cement walls with anti -American murals.
In the charming Boof -Café, Amir, the Barista, says that he wants to improve relationships between America and Iran.
“US sanctions violated our business and make it difficult for us to travel the world,” he reflects when he pours another ice coffee behind a captivating wooden sign: “Keep up and drink coffee.”
There are only two tables – one of a woman covered in a long black veil, one of a woman in blue jeans with long running hair, which should wear the rules for what women should wear while they should cuddle with their boyfriend.
It is a small snapshot of this capital because it faces its deeply uncertain future.

On Thursday, a short drive in the complex of the state television station Irib was removed on the Iranian television station Irib.
“The Americans have refused against the Islamic Republic of Iran from the start,” he said.
“Basically, it was always about one thing: they want us to surrender,” the 86-year-old Ayatollah, who had levied protection in a bunker, had his unprecedented wave of strikes waves, which withdraw against the nuclear and rocket sites of Iran.
We have his speech, his first since President Donald Trump suddenly announced a ceasefire on Tuesday, in a small television in the only office that is still intact in a huge section of the Irib site. Everything that is Le is a charred steel skeleton.
When an Israeli bomb hit this complex on June 16, a raging fire swept through the main studio, which would have broadcast the address of the top guide. Now it’s just ash.
You can still taste its sharp smell; All TV devices – cameras, lights, tripod – are involved in twisted metal. A crispy glacial carpet covers the floor.
Israel said it aimed at the Propaganda arm of the Islamic Republic and accused them of hiding a military operation inside the inside – an indictment that their journalists rejected.
His gaping shell seems to symbolize these darkest times for Iran.
You can also see it in the city’s hospitals who are still treating the Iranians who were injured in the 12-day war of Israel.
“I’m afraid that they could attack again,” Ashraf Barghi tells me when we meet in the emergency room of the TALLHANI General Hospital, where she works as a head.
“We do not trust that this war is over,” she says, in a remark that reflects the palpable concern that we have heard of so many people in this city.
When Israel bombed the threshold of the nearby Evin prison on June 23The victims, both soldiers and civilians, were brought to the emergency room of the nurse Barghi.
“The injuries were the worst that I treated as a nurse in my 32 years,” she says, still visibly desperate.
The strike on the notorious prison, in which Iran captures most of its political prisoners, was described as “symbolic” by Israel.
It seemed to strengthen the repeated message of the Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu to the Iranians to “stand for their freedom”.
“Israel says that only the military and nuclear prison has hit it, but everything is lying,” emphasizes Morteza from his hospital bed. He was worked in the prison in the traffic department when the rocket hit the building. He shows us his injuries in both arms and his back.
Soldiers are looked after in the station next door, but we are not allowed to enter there.

In this extensive metropolis, the Iranians count the costs of this confrontation. In its most recent balance sheet, the government Ministry of Health recorded 627 people and injured almost 5,000.
Tehran slowly returns to life and at least absorbs his old rhythms on the surface. His notorious trade trade begins to fill his aspiring motorways and pretty side streets.
Shops in his beautiful bazaars open again when the people return to a city in which they escape from the bombs. The intensive 12-day military operation of Israel, together with the attacks of the US attacks on the main nuclear sites of the Iranian nuclear, shaked so many.
“You weren’t a good day,” says Mina, a young woman who immediately breaks when she tries to explain her sadness. “It’s so heartbreaking,” she tells me through her tears. “We tried so much to live a better life, but we can’t see any future these days.”
We met on the site of the high -flying white marble Azadi Tower, one of the most famous sights in Tehran. A large amount that collapsed on a warm summer evening fluctuated to the varieties of popular patriotic songs in an open-air concert by the Tehran Symphony Orchestra. It should take a calm calm to a city that is still nervous.

Followers and critics of the Iranian clergymen mixed who have come together through the future of their country.
“You have to hear what people say,” emphasizes Ali Reza when I ask him what advice he would give his government. “We want bigger freedom, that’s all I will say.”
There are also despite. “When we attack our atomic bases to demonstrate that they have to do what we have to say, diplomacy violates,” says Hamed, an 18-year-old university student.
Despite the rules and restrictions that have ruled their lives for a long time, the Iranians speak their opinion while waiting for the next steps of their rulers and leaders in Washington and beyond, who have such consequences for their lives.
Additional reporting by Charlotte Scarr and Nik Millard.
LYSE DOUCET may report in Iran on the condition that none of her reports about the Persian service of the BBC is used. This law of Iranian authorities applies to all international media agencies working in Iran.