In the Iranian port city of Bandar Abbas, located on the strategic Strait of Hormuz, economic activity has slowed significantly due to a U.S. blockade. Once a bustling hub with boats, trucks, and workers, the waterfront now stands largely quiet. Residents describe a growing sense of economic hardship as the United States intensifies its actions following six months of conflict. The Associated Press visited the city, which has been affected by recent U.S. airstrikes targeting coastal areas, and found residents expressing anger and anxiety over basic survival as the blockade continues. A local taxi driver, Hamid Hajizadeh, expressed frustration and anger toward the U.S., saying, "Americans are heroes in movies, but here they killed people in schools, wedding ceremonies, and other places. They bombed roads and bridges." In a city with over 700,000 people, residents have a front-row view of events on the strait that have drawn global attention. They say their location has brought little but danger and discomfort over the past half-year. Mohammad Torabian, who works at the dock providing services to passengers, said business is at an all-time low. Before the conflict, up to 50 trucks carrying food and meat would unload daily. Now, with the U.S. blockade aiming to prevent Iran from exporting its oil, much of the dock is empty. Torabian estimated that about 500 people had been earning a living around the dock, but "there is no job here." Bandar Abbas has long been tied to the sea and the nearby Shahid Rajaee port, one of Iran’s largest commercial ports. Shahid Rajaee has the capacity to handle 100 million metric tons of cargo annually, according to a July report by Iran’s state-run IRNA news agency. Iranian officials have strongly criticized the U.S. blockade, imposed in April and again after failed negotiations with Tehran. Washington has since pledged more economic pressure on the strait, a vital route for global oil, natural gas, and related product shipments. The economic impact is being felt across nearly every sector of Bandar Abbas, from ship crews and dock workers to customs-clearing companies and shopkeepers. Mahsa Shojaei, an accountant at a customs-clearing company, said that before the conflict, her company handled a significant amount of imports, including rice, tea, and coffee from neighboring countries. Now, she estimates that 80% to 90% of her company’s workload has vanished. A business that might have handled 100 customs-clearance files in a given period now processes only about 10, with the cost of processing cargo rising sharply. The economic downturn has extended beyond the waterfront, especially as Iran's currency hits record lows. In retail markets, merchants report dwindling customers as purchasing power declines. Mehrdad Jahangiri, who sells children's clothing in a shop that supports both his household and his father’s, said sales have dropped by about half compared to the same period last year. "There are simply no customers," Jahangiri said. "The market has become very quiet." The timing of the conflict has been especially damaging for merchants, as it began just before the Iranian New Year, Nowruz, a period of heavy consumer spending. Merchants rely on families to spend more than usual during this time, but the war disrupted this expectation. Now, another key shopping period—before schools reopen in September—is also being affected. Jahangiri noted that the usual crowds have barely appeared, and the downturn has become severe enough that the shop sometimes falls behind on rent and accumulates debt, something he said had not happened before. "People’s pockets are empty and incomes have fallen," he said. When asked if his family had to cut back on everyday expenses, his answer was immediate. "Absolutely," he said. "It has changed a lot." Some merchants have tried to adapt by offering discounts or allowing trusted customers to pay in installments. For those who rely on the sea for their livelihood, the challenges go beyond the loss of business. They must also consider how far they can safely venture offshore. Abbas Golzanaei, a motorboat driver who transports passengers to ships and other nearby ports, said he used to travel up to 30 miles for work. "Before the war, business was good," Golzanaei said. "Now I can’t go beyond seven or eight miles. The sea is not safe." This has left him with fewer passengers and less income, and he added, "Things are hard to find. We have difficulty getting gasoline." Farther offshore, cargo vessels were seen against the setting sun, suspended in uncertainty, much like Bandar Abbas itself, waiting to know when they can move again.