PHOTO ESSAY: Iranians struggled with quiet moments of fear and anxiety for 12 days of war

CAIRO (AP) — For 12 days, Tehran fell dark and silent, except for the sound of explosions. In their houses and apartments, Iranians tried to pass the hours — sleepless, eyes on the TV for news of the war.

A series of images document the moments in which residents of Iran’s capital struggled to hold onto something familiar amid the uncertainty. They were taken by a freelance photographer and obtained by The Associated Press outside of Iran. The AP is publishing them on condition of anonymity over fears for the photographer’s safety.

The photos, made under unpredictable and often unsafe conditions amid evacuation alerts and falling missiles, show the tension between normalcy and chaos.

Israel said its campaign aimed to cripple Iran’s nuclear facilities, which its officials maintain are for peaceful means. Israel's strikes also pounded buildings around Tehran, while Iran fired back with barrages into Israel. A ceasefire began June 24.

For 12 days, Tehran was transformed. The city normally bustles at all hours, its highways packed with cars and apartment towers lit up. During the war, most of the population fled. At night, blackness descended on the city.

Those who remained largely stayed indoors. Outside their windows came the rhythm of explosions — sometimes distant, sometimes close enough to shake them — and the crackle of air defenses.

One night, a group of friends gathered for dinner at a Tehran home. The table was full, the atmosphere warm. Guests joked with one another. But even as they dished up food and sat down in the living room to eat, everyone was glued to the television for any news.

The next night, one of the largest and most powerful explosions in Tehran struck a short distance from where they had gathered.

For Sara, a 9-year-old Afghan girl, reading and drawing in her sketchbook helped her endure the days at home. She sat on the living room floor with her markers, turning to see the TV.

Her family fled to Iran to escape the Taliban takeover in Afghanistan four years ago; now during Israel’s campaign, they were living through a new war. The family stayed inside not just for fear of strikes. They also worried they might be detained and deported amid wartime suspicion of Afghan refugees among some.

“Afghanistan is my homeland, and so is Iran. I have two countries that feel like one,” Sara said. On one page of her sketchbook, she wrote, “Mursal, I love you, my dear” — a message for her best friend, whose family fled back to Afghanistan during the bombardment.

Sara and others are only being identified by their first names out of concern for their security.

During the day, some might step outside between blasts, capturing smoke rising in the distance with their phones. After one strike hit a building, a puddle of blood remained on the street.

Evacuation alerts often came late at night. Some people spent nights in subway stations for safety. They lay down sheets and blankets on the tile floor or sat on the steps, scrolling through their phones as fighter jets and explosions could be heard on the streets above.

This story has been corrected to remove extraneous material.

Mourners gather at a collective funeral ceremony for victims of recent explosions in Tehran, Iran, Saturday, June 28, 2025. (AP Photo)

In a city emptied by war, a woman smokes hookah with a friend at home in Tehran, Iran, Tuesday, June 17, 2025. (AP Photo)

Three young men gather in one of the few cafés that stayed open during the war as the thuds of defense missiles echo outside in Tehran, Iran, Wednesday, June 18, 2025. (AP Photo)

A family gathers for dinner in the town of Rasht, northwest of Tehran near the Caspian Sea, Friday, June 20, 2025, once considered safer than the capital. Midway through the war, three explosions shook the city, shattering its sense of safety. (AP Photo)

A group of friends gathers for dinner while following the TV for the latest updates on the Iran-Israel conflict in Tehran, Iran, on Monday, June 23, 2025. (AP Photo)

A woman cuts a fish as she prepares dinner for her family in Rasht, northwest of Tehran near the Caspian Sea, Friday, June 20, 2025. Once considered safer than the capital, the city's sense of security was shattered midway through the war when explosions struck. (AP Photo)

A group of friends gathers for dinner while following the latest updates on the Iran-Israel conflict in Tehran, Iran, Monday, June 23, 2025. Between bites, they keep their eyes on the TV for any news. (AP Photo)

With their cellphones, residents take pictures of smoke rising from an Israeli strike in Tehran, Iran, Monday, June 23, 2025. Repeated explosions echoed across the city as plumes of smoke rose from multiple locations.(AP Photo)

After an emergency evacuation alert, residents seek shelter in a metro station in Tehran, Iran, on Tuesday, June 24, 2025. That night, evacuation alerts were issued for two central neighborhoods in the middle of the night. (AP Photo)

After an emergency evacuation alert, residents seek shelter in a metro station in Tehran, Iran, Tuesday, June 24, 2025. That night, evacuation alerts were issued for two central neighborhoods in the middle of the night. (AP Photo)

Debris from a strike on a residential building in Tehran, Iran, Friday, June 27, 2025. Many nearby homes were destroyed or severely damaged, leaving them uninhabitable. (AP Photo)

A young woman takes shelter in a metro station following a midnight evacuation alert for Israeli strikes in Tehran, Iran, Tuesday, June 24, 2025. One of the announced missile targets was just 400 meters away, dangerously close to both the station and her home. (AP Photo)

The trail of a missile launched by Iran is visible across the sky in Tehran, Iran, Wednesday, June 18, 2025. Most of the city's lights were off, some areas had been evacuated, and others remained dark intentionally. (AP Photo)

The phrase "My life for Iran" is spray-painted on the outer wall of a residential building heavily damaged by a missile strike in Tehran, Iran, Friday, June 27, 2025. (AP Photo)

Blood at the site of an Israeli strike stains the roadside two days later in Tehran, Iran, Friday, June 27, 2025. (AP Photo)

Smoke from earlier strikes hangs in the air at dusk during in Tehran, Iran, Wednesday, June 18, 2025. Many residents had evacuated, and those who stayed kept their homes and streetlights dim as a precaution. (AP Photo)

TThe front window of a well-known bookstore cracked after an explosion hit a nearby military site just behind the shop, in Tehran, Iran, Tuesday, June 24, 2025. Staff taped the glass to prevent further damage, creating the outline of Iran over a mural of Mount Damavand, a national symbol of resilience. (AP Photo)

Nine-year-old Afghan girl Sara and her family watch the news about the ceasefire in silence in Tehran, Iran, Wednesday, June 25, 2025. They fled to Iran four years ago and now rarely leave the house, fearing arrest and deportation. (AP Photo)

A goldfish was rescued alive from the rubble after one of the heaviest blasts on the final night of the war, in Tehran, Iran, Tuesday, June 24, 2025, Several residential buildings were destroyed, and one family managed to recover only the father's medication, a pair of his shoes, and this goldfish from the debris. (AP Photo)

Mastaneh submits an exam online from her home in Tehran, Iran, where she lives with her mother, Maryam, Wednesday, June 25, 2025. She hadn't returned to campus since the start of the 12-day war between Iran and Israel.(AP Photo)

Maryam, who has the word "Iran" tattooed on the back of her neck, looks out the window of her home in Tehran, Iran, Wednesday, June 25, 2025. She lives alone with her daughter, Mastaneh, just a few blocks from the site of a key explosion during the war.(AP Photo)

Nine-year-old Afghan girl Sara, whose family fled to Iran four years ago, draws in her room in Tehran, Iran, Wednesday, June 25, 2025, during the ceasefire after 12 days of Israeli bombardment. (AP Photo)

A group of Buddhist monks and their rescue dog are striding single file down country roads and highways across the South, captivating Americans nationwide and inspiring droves of locals to greet them along their route.

In their flowing saffron and ocher robes, the men are walking for peace. It's a meditative tradition more common in South Asian countries, and it's resonating now in the U.S., seemingly as a welcome respite from the conflict, trauma and politics dividing the nation.

Their journey began Oct. 26, 2025, at a Vietnamese Buddhist temple in Texas, and is scheduled to end in mid-February in Washington, D.C., where they will ask Congress to recognize Buddha’s day of birth and enlightenment as a federal holiday. Beyond promoting peace, their highest priority is connecting with people along the way.

“My hope is, when this walk ends, the people we met will continue practicing mindfulness and find peace,” said the Venerable Bhikkhu Pannakara, the group’s soft-spoken leader who is making the trek barefoot. He teaches about mindfulness, forgiveness and healing at every stop.

Preferring to sleep each night in tents pitched outdoors, the monks have been surprised to see their message transcend ideologies, drawing huge crowds into churchyards, city halls and town squares across six states. Documenting their journey on social media, they — and their dog, Aloka — have racked up millions of followers online. On Saturday, thousands thronged in Columbia, South Carolina, where the monks chanted on the steps of the State House and received a proclamation from the city's mayor, Daniel Rickenmann.

At their stop Thursday in Saluda, South Carolina, Audrie Pearce joined the crowd lining Main Street. She had driven four hours from her village of Little River, and teared up as Pannakara handed her a flower.

“There’s something traumatic and heart-wrenching happening in our country every day,” said Pearce, who describes herself as spiritual, but not religious. “I looked into their eyes and I saw peace. They’re putting their bodies through such physical torture and yet they radiate peace.”

Hailing from Theravada Buddhist monasteries across the globe, the 19 monks began their 2,300 mile (3,700 kilometer) trek at the Huong Dao Vipassana Bhavana Center in Fort Worth.

Their journey has not been without peril. On Nov. 19, as the monks were walking along U.S. Highway 90 near Dayton, Texas, their escort vehicle was hit by a distracted truck driver, injuring two monks. One of them lost his leg, reducing the group to 18.

This is Pannakara's first trek in the U.S., but he's walked across several South Asian countries, including a 112-day journey across India in 2022 where he first encountered Aloka, an Indian Pariah dog whose name means divine light in Sanskrit.

Then a stray, the dog followed him and other monks from Kolkata in eastern India all the way to the Nepal border. At one point, he fell critically ill and Pannakara scooped him up in his arms and cared for him until he recovered. Now, Aloka inspires him to keep going when he feels like giving up.

“I named him light because I want him to find the light of wisdom,” Pannakara said.

The monk's feet are now heavily bandaged because he's stepped on rocks, nails and glass along the way. His practice of mindfulness keeps him joyful despite the pain from these injuries, he said.

Still, traversing the southeast United States has presented unique challenges, and pounding pavement day after day has been brutal.

“In India, we can do shortcuts through paddy fields and farms, but we can’t do that here because there are a lot of private properties,” Pannakara said. “But what’s made it beautiful is how people have welcomed and hosted us in spite of not knowing who we are and what we believe.”

In Opelika, Alabama, the Rev. Patrick Hitchman-Craig hosted the monks on Christmas night at his United Methodist congregation.

He expected to see a small crowd, but about 1,000 people showed up, creating the feel of a block party. The monks seemed like the Magi, he said, appearing on Christ’s birthday.

“Anyone who is working for peace in the world in a way that is public and sacrificial is standing close to the heart of Jesus, whether or not they share our tradition,” said Hitchman-Craig. “I was blown away by the number of people and the diversity of who showed up.”

After their night on the church lawn, the monks arrived the next afternoon at the Collins Farm in Cusseta, Alabama. Judy Collins Allen, whose father and brother run the farm, said about 200 people came to meet the monks — the biggest gathering she’s ever witnessed there.

“There was a calm, warmth and sense of community among people who had not met each other before and that was so special,” she said.

Long Si Dong, a spokesperson for the Fort Worth temple, said the monks, when they arrive in Washington, plan to seek recognition of Vesak, the day which marks the birth and enlightenment of the Buddha, as a national holiday.

“Doing so would acknowledge Vesak as a day of reflection, compassion and unity for all people regardless of faith,” he said.

But Pannakara emphasized that their main goal is to help people achieve peace in their lives. The trek is also a separate endeavor from a $200 million campaign to build towering monuments on the temple’s 14-acre property to house the Buddha’s teachings engraved in stone, according to Dong.

The monks practice and teach Vipassana meditation, an ancient Indian technique taught by the Buddha himself as core for attaining enlightenment. It focuses on the mind-body connection — observing breath and physical sensations to understand reality, impermanence and suffering. Some of the monks, including Pannakara, walk barefoot to feel the ground directly and be present in the moment.

Pannakara has told the gathered crowds that they don't aim to convert people to Buddhism.

Brooke Schedneck, professor of religion at Rhodes College in Memphis, Tennessee, said the tradition of a peace walk in Theravada Buddhism began in the 1990s when the Venerable Maha Ghosananda, a Cambodian monk, led marches across war-torn areas riddled with landmines to foster national healing after civil war and genocide in his country.

“These walks really inspire people and inspire faith,” Schedneck said. “The core intention is to have others watch and be inspired, not so much through words, but through how they are willing to make this sacrifice by walking and being visible.”

On Thursday, Becki Gable drove nearly 400 miles (about 640 kilometers) from Cullman, Alabama, to catch up with them in Saluda. Raised Methodist, Gable said she wanted some release from the pain of losing her daughter and parents.

“I just felt in my heart that this would help me have peace,” she said. “Maybe I could move a little bit forward in my life.”

Gable says she has already taken one of Pannakara’s teachings to heart. She’s promised herself that each morning, as soon as she awakes, she’d take a piece of paper and write five words on it, just as the monk prescribed.

“Today is my peaceful day.”

Freelance photojournalist Allison Joyce contributed to this report.

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.

Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," get lunch Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Aloka rests with Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

A sign is seen greeting the Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Supporters pray with Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Supporters watch Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

A Buddhist monk ties a prayer bracelet around the wrist of Josey Lee, 2-months-old, during the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Bhikkhu Pannakara, a spiritual leader, speaks to supporters during the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks participate in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks participate in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Bhikkhu Pannakara leads other buddhist monks in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Audrie Pearce greets Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Bhikkhu Pannakara, a spiritual leader, speaks to supporters during the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," arrive in Saluda, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," are seen with their dog, Aloka, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)