T A B L E_T A L K Westerners discuss their struggles with understanding the Japanese. Have a similar story to tell? Swap tales and advice in the Wanderlust area of Table Talk R E C E N T L Y Mondo Weirdo No place like Oz In Japan, a bar with no alcohol or music, only coffee (07/24/98) Mondo Weirdo Nude beaches of the week Favorite places to bare all (07/24/98) Safety strategies By Dawn MacKeen Savvy safety tips for business travelers (07/23/98) Tampax nightmares By Susan Hack It's hard to find a good tampon in Yemen (07/22/98) Homemade heaven in Italy By David Downie Wild boar stew and other delights in Italy (07/21/98) Browse the Wanderlust Feature archives		Exposed navels, short dresses and lascivious behavior are the order of the day in post-revolutionary Iran -- but only behind closed doors. BY DREW FELLMAN | ESFAHAN, Iran -- "OK man, let's go," says Ali, nervously craning his head to see who might be watching us. "But we should leave one at a time so the police don't stop us." Ali slinks out of the front entrance of the Hotel Shab Abbas in Esfahan, Iran's fabled city of blue-tiled mosques and Persian arts, and tries to be as inconspicuous as possible. His younger brother Hamid notices the paranoid look on my face and tells me to calm down. "Don't worry," he says. "We'll go together." After a quick nod, we speedwalk to the door, then make a mad dash to the corner and pile into Ali's battered old Citroen. In the car they explain that they could be arrested for being with a foreigner, particularly an American, and request that I lay low. Swerving crazily through the traffic of Esfahan, where all cars bear scars of mercenary driving, Ali vibrates with an uncontrollable restlessness. Two years after finishing his military service, he's 25, unemployed and desperate for fun and excitement -- not an easy pair to come by in post-revolutionary Iran. "If police find a boy and girl together, they beat us," says Hamid, 17, an aspiring fashion designer. Like 50 percent of all Iranians, he was born after the revolution. And like Ali, Hamid is trying to get a visa to study abroad. "I hate it here," he says. "I just want to go somewhere else where I can be free." Sexual freedom is tough to find in a country where strict social codes have been in place since the 1979 Islamic Revolution. Today's youth, sick of being repressed and bored, have begun to take center stage with their grievances; their loud rumbling last year made it to the national political arena when their support helped moderate candidate Mohammed Khatami win a landslide victory in Iran's presidential election. But even if the new president loosens some of the social constraints, the secret social gathering Ali has brought us to would still be far from legal. Because behind the iron gates of this two-story house, there is a slice of Iranian life that could only exist behind doors in this culture. It's a house party, Iranian style. Ironically, as I look around, I'm stung by the realization that, minus the black-hooded cloaks and the Armenian vodka, this could be any college party in America. N E X T+P A G E | The chadors get stashed in the closet