Photos : Tehran 2011
Belgrade or Bust
First impressions last. On this flight it was when boarding we noticed the cleaning staff milling about and having a chat about the state of the world. It became obvious upon visiting the toilet before takeoff that the one area they surely didn’t go near said toilet. The paper was strewn from the bowl to the basin. Either people are a bad shot or the cleaner had an epileptic fit whilst cleaning.
The outer seats appear to have extra leg room than the center row. My suspicion is the seats have slowly inched backwards with each crash landing the plane has endured. I’m not saying the pilots are bad but I’m also not saying they’re good.
There is one flight attendant that stands out from the rest. It’s not the warm smile and friendly disposition (you’d never be hired if those were your traits) but it’s his hair. He has a great widows peak that is so pointed that you could cut your hand if trying to ruffle his hair. As a package with his hair style, jet black dye (except for the grey sideburns), his complexion and facial expressions, he is Eddie Munster. It’s a little hard not to look at him but it’s also impossible to take him seriously. His hair has a strong dye that was done by his niece.
The UK won’t refuel Iran planes so we had to stop in Belgrade for an hour to refuel. So the UK will allow UK food on the plane, charge for using the airport but they won’t refuel….sounds like kids having a childish spat. Pathetic!!
The refuel embargo meant we arrived in Tehran at 0400 rather than our scheduled 0230. We knew we were getting close to Tehran when almost all the women decided to adorn head scarves in what appeared to be a form of synchronised head wrapping. Some of the women we spoke to admitted they didn’t like wearing them and the idea was ‘a little silly’ however conformed to the local dress code without real complaint.
First impressions count and as soon as you get outside you expect some air pollution and the smell of jet fuel. I had not expected to have my nasal senses assaulted by the smell of urine. I’ve no idea if there’s a factory nearby or where exactly the smell came from however it was strong. I’m not speculating any further other than to say ‘it smelt’.
By the time we hit downtown and checked in to the hotel it was around 0700 which meant we had 2 hours to have breakfast and be ready for our city tour…no rest for the wicked and no time to waste.
Tehranasaurus
Once on the bus our tour leader introduced herself as Mele and a smile magically appeared. This proved to be true throughout our trip as the Iranians were very friendly. Many of the people, especially the younger ones, learn English and are desperate to test themselves in pronunciation and conversation. You have to forego your predisposition to thinking they are disingenuous. It doesn’t take long to realise you are more of an interest to them than they are to you. We discovered it was the younger girls, especially in high school, that were most keen to approach and engage conversation.
Iran is renowned for amazing mosque architecture and naively I had expected our introduction to the capital would also mean our introduction to a stunning example. The main religious areas are in other parts of the country therefore many of the more devout Islam followers venture elsewhere to study or make religious pilgrimages. This also means that the most stunning architecture is not within Tehran.
Choked by the public transport, cars and motorbikes for the 7 million inhabitants, the pollution creates a permanent smog haze over the city so I’m not sure they see blue sky that often! Although it’s the capital city it hasn’t the beauty of Shiraz or Esfahan nor does it have the tourist attractions to rival those cities. Tehran is a big city with all the trappings that go along with big cities.
The Museum of Ancient Iran is a medium sized square building by a French designer in the early 20th century. Being French didn’t actually translate into a beautiful building design and I would call it ‘bunker meets missile silo’ style. The only saving grace would be the arched windows however even they aren’t exactly rivetting. Inside it’s not exactly overflowing with items however there are some interesting artifacts but little atmosphere.
So no mosques seen thus far however we did get to see Golestan Palace and within it a wing that looked like it was designed by Liberace or the Priscilla Queen Of the Desert set designer on crack. In a clash of taste, money and mirrors you find Talar-e Berelian (Hall of Brilliance) replete with gaudy mirrors and chandeliers. The building was surreal at first however by the end of the trip you realise there are other places, including mosques, that have a mirror obsession.
Having survived the numerous bus trips, being shadowed by internal security/police and the back streets of Shiraz, we once again found ourselves in Tehran. Declining to follow the rest of the group into the depths of the National Jewellry Museum, we ventured out for about 45 minutes to roam the downtown streets. It speaks volumes when some of the local store sellers have masks in a vain attempt to keep the car fumes at bay. I didn’t find it any where near as bad as Bangkok or Beijing however it wasn’t the freshest either. Almost tripping over some people scrounging for usable/salable items in the city’s drains, we found some essential stores – guns and knives. I loved one of the signs “Diana | Success through Quality”. Good ol Diana, thanks sweetheart.
Maybe having a gun store directly opposite the National Jewelly Museum explains why the security guards are so paranoid that you are not allowed to actually stand on the museum steps or in fact in front of the building for any length of time. Of course the other reasons could be to do with the actual collections of jewels, especially the pink coloured diamond of Darya-ye-Noor, not bad at a measly 182 Carats, or maybe the Peacock Throne that has about 26,733 jewellry pieces (worth millions and millions of dollars).
I know there are many place in Tehran that we didn’t get to see however aside from Golestan Palace Tehran offered little else in terms of sights and atmosphere and it’s not a city I’m in a rush to visit again.
The Dezzy Threat
Dezzy is a traditional meal where the food is served in a hot pot that’s like a slender tall coffee mug. Accompanying the pot is a wooden plunger that’s used to mash the food. The ingredients are a whole tomato, small potato, mutton, chick peas and onion. The first few of our group to try were slowly mashing the food however Mele said you had to be more forceful. I took her advice and as suspected, the tomato exploded under the plunger and its sauce erupted like a volcano. Luckily the splatter pattern was over the table and narrowly missed us.
With the soup drained, you rip the bread into small pieces and soak them in the soup. To eat, you reconstitute the food using a spoon or fork and shovel into ones mouth. The meat falls apart and the sauces wash over the taste buds causing a delightful symphony of culinary delight. Now that’s verbose waffle!!!!
Whilst we were inside mashing and masticating our food, our bus driver was outside using his ample body as a punching bag and having his phone stolen. Yep, in the heart of downtown Tehran on a busy side street, he had phone stolen whilst we were having lunch. Mele said he was punched in the face and had his phone stolen. So much for being told it’s relatively safe in Iran. Let’s hope it’s the local faces that serve has punching bags and us foreign devils are less appealing.
Dress Sense Is Mohammad Meets Gay Mardi Gras
A Canadian Royal Mountie hasn’t seen this many moose knuckles. Aside from the tight fitting jeans, there’s a healthy array of shiny suits…and I mean shiny! At Presepolis I saw a kid of about 8 wearing 2 piece shiny silver suit with a soft orange coloured shirt….sweet.
White wash jeans are not dead in Iran. In fact their popularity seems on the rise. Only the fashion conscious appear to be allowed to wear them though as the mere mortals rely on standard dress sense. If you can’t find a pair of white wash jeans then you should get the next best thing…a shiny shirt with shiny pants.
Let’s not forget about the hair. All the styles that are out of fashion everywhere else are fashionable here. You can find Elvis style hair, a mullet, 80’s pop band, slick backed Gordon Gecko style that requires constant fondling to ensure not a strand has moved and variations of all aforementioned. The hair styles coupled with the dress sense created a time warp in which you cringe with a bemused smile.
Like other places we were the attraction. The Iranians were unabashed in their staring at us. Often they would stand less than a foot away and stare intently at our weird looking faces and fashion sense. Although staring, I never felt overly threatened as it was evident the gorking was outright curiosity rather than anything nefarious.