Above: View of Tehran from Park-e Jamshidiye.
Bazaar
I had to conserve water when I woke, since I couldn’t get any last night. I walked out of the hotel to get a fruit shake for breakfast but it wasn’t open despite being 0850 already. The bakeries had queues. I settled for a super-cheap Caprisonne-style pomegranate drink which which cost IRR1000 (around 12 cents USD) but an orange one later was IRR1500.
I took the metro from Saadi to the bazaar. I was getting hungry and saw some delicious-looking deep-fried patties. I asked for two but then realized that they come in sandwiches, so one would have been enough. It was really delicious with tomatoes and mashed pickles.
Only a couple of alleys in the bazaar had vaulted ceilings. The shops sold everything from clothing, kitchenware, mod cons, spices, gold etc. A man at the Moulinex and Tefal shop offered me some tea. And as I left, he kissed me on both cheeks. Very European and Middle Eastern.
I snacked on a pizza taking the metro back to Saadi. As I was anxious to hear back about a couple of jobs, I dropped in at the internet café only to be disappointed with no news. So, it was back to my room for a shower and rest rather than a celebration.
Iran’s Jewels
I rang my mate from my flight from Doha to Tehran, to organize a meet-up. Let’s call him Mr X as we had some conversations later that are interesting to share.
But next up was my favourite sight in all of Tehran. It’s the jewels amassed by the Shah and his family. They’re kept in the Bank Melli vault with walls 3 feet thick. Officially it is called Treasury of National Jewels.
I remember platefuls of diamonds and rubies. Somehow, it was less impressive second time around. The plates didn’t seem as big and there didn’t seem as many. And the pink Darya Noor (one of the larges cut diamonds in the world) wasn’t as sparkly. But everything sure as hell was still impressive.
The ultimate in opulence there were the tassles at the bottom of curtains that weren’t actually tassles. They were threaded beads of tiny pearls! Sadly photography is strictly prohibited in the museum, so I have absolutely nothing to show.
Meeting up with a local
From the museum, I took the metro to Mirdamad and tried to use a phone card to contact Mr X. The first didn’t work so I used a second. A stranger by the name of Reza helped ensure I wasn’t queue-jumped by others. He took instructions from Mr X about where to meet.
Reza walked me to Park-e Taleghani where I met Mr X. He also told Mr X off for not being a better host, having me make my own way here in this fashion!
Here in northern Tehran, the skies are clear, the air cleaner and the traffic better. But all these are relative to the centre and it’s still quite bad in the evenings.
Mr X took me for a walk around Park-e Jamshidiye, one of the typical hill-parks in the north of Tehran, ie. teahouses dotted amongst green wooded parks which extend up into the barren slopes which will soon snow-bound. From its elevated position, it offered a good view of Tehran. There were many restaurants there and I’m sure it gets even better at night when they get lit up and busy.
We walked, sat, drank tea, people-watched and chatted. I always love a bit of insight into local life and perspectives. Some of it was a learning experience while other bits were amusing:
- As we walked close to a pretty duck-pond, he said “This is where people come to make love in the park”. I realised couples were only holding hands and gazing into each others eyes. Being romantic, in other words.
- On the sight of the only dog I saw in Iran I said “Because you’re Muslim you won’t know that Dog is hot food” (referring to the concept of heaty vs cooling food that Chinese and Persians have in common). To my surprise, he told me that he had tried dog once! I couldn’t resist asking if it was halal slaughtered! Do two wrongs make a right? ie. non-halal slaughter of a prohibited food.
- However, he had never eaten pork (unclean, like dogs, in Islam) because there are no pigs in Iran. I explained that he wasn’t missing out on anything with pork but bacon is rather tasty.
- Inflation in Iran is very high and “interest” (sic) at the bank is around 20%. Of course it isn’t really interest (prohibited in Islam) but dividend or profit-share. Interestingly (no pun intended), I had learned from a traveller that interest is a no-no for Christians too (in Exodus and Deuteronomy). Oh, how we have strayed!
- Young people send TXT or SMS messages in Finglish, which is Farsi using the Roman alphabet. It’s because not many phones on the market come with the Farsi (modified Arabic) script display. Moreover, both ends need to have the feature before messages will come through correctly.
- The Iranian parliament reserves one seat each to Jews, Assyrians, Zoroastrians and two for Armenians. Given that Assyrians and Armenians are Christians, that may mean that there are three reserved seats for Christians. There are no reserved allocations for Sunni but they participate normally in elections.
It was a long slow drive in traffic to near Valiasr Square for dinner at a chaykhuneh (teahouse). I tried Abgusht (also called Dizi) which is a meat stew. Literally it means meat water. One is supposed to drink the soup first then mash the potatoes, meat and chickpeas and eat the mash with bread. But I enjoy the chunks straight as a stew. It was delicious.
Mr X’s Mazda 121 had a flat battery. A bunch of helpful strangers help us push the car. He dropped me off a Haft-e Tir metro to find my own way home. Damn! I forgot to give him the nougat (gaz) which I bought for him.