Turkey, Iran, and India

The rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

After a very long pause, I am once again adding to my travel blog. I've been in India for the last two weeks, Iran for the month before that, and had two more weeks in Turkey since my last post from Istanbul on December 24th.

Since then, I have travelled by land from Turkey into Iran, and flew into Mumbai from Tehran, with a 4 hour stopover in Bahrain (my first opportunity to drink beer in a month! :).

I have a partial excuse for my lack of blogging: While I was in Iran from January 7th until February 5th, I could not access to my blog site. The Iranian Mullahs block a lot of sites, including that one, so it wasn't possible to post a blog during that month.

I did send out a two “blog entries” to a few people by e-mail while I was in Iran, no pictures, but lots of words - too many perhaps,. I will append them to the end of this current blog post if someone wants a long read..

As I write this, I am relaxing on floormats in an open-air structure in Virupapur Gaddi across the river from Hampi, at a very nice chilled out guest house called the Mowgli. It's next to rice patties (the frogs are quite loud at night) and the area around Hampi is packed with boulders of all sizes, some of the piles of boulders form little mountains. There are many precariously perched boulders that look ready to fall at any moment (check it on the net, sorry, I don't have pics yet). I cannot imagine how they got to be this way. I rode a motorbike all over the place with a German friend named Martin for two days, saw lots of great temples and great views. Incredible place.

Before Hampi, I was at Arambol beach in Goa for a few nights. Very relaxing; had a great hut (concrete with bathroom and electric) with a porch a few feet above the water. Before Goa I spent a couple nights in Mumbai, and saw a few of the more important sights - like Leopold, a popular tourist place that was bombed and attacked in November last year.

I have included some pics from Turkey and Iran, sorry that blog posts and pictures are out of sequence.

Iran Blog Post #1 - January 10, 2009

Salaam Aleykhum,

Well, it is time for another out of sequence, very late, blog entry from Brad the lazy blogger.

For those who complained that my blogs lacked detail (Gord), this one should satisfy your curiousity a little more - if it doesn't put you to sleep first.

I am now in Tabriz Iran, but have not written anything at all about Turkey. Let me start with arriving in Iran, and then get back to Turkey.

I arrived in Iran 2 nights ago, travelling by overnight bus from Ankara, Turkey to Dogubayazit, and then by minibus to the Iranian border. It was a bit trying as the guys who sold me the ticket knew I wanted to go to Tabriz Iran, and when I bought the ticket, I pointed to Tabriz on a map, and I thought it would take me there. I showed them the map and said “Tabriz, Tabriz”. They all nodded in agreement, but since none of them spoke English, and I am useless in Turkish, it was not the best of communication.

As I waited in the Ankara terminal (having missed my original 3:00PM bus due to a metro screwup of my own making, I had almost 6 hours to kill) surfing the internet I decided to look into other people's experiences crossing the border. Well, the few I found all had to do the bus to Dogubayazit, and then a minibus to the border, which dumps you at a border crossing near a very small Iranian border town called Bazargan.

I went back and showed them a map of Tabriz and asked them exactly where the bus would let me off in that city, suspecting I wasn't going to like the answer. Sure enough my bus was only going to Dogubayazit. Oh well, nothing to do but laugh and drink tea (in both Turkey and Iran they drink copious amounts of the stuff and one is offered a cup at every turn. I believe it is best to drink if one wishes to be polite. As an even further aside, the Iranian approach to sweetening one's tea is interesting, you hold a very hard chunk of sugar in your mouth, and then take a drink of tea and suck it through the sugar, I'm getting the hang of it.). They got me on my 9:00 bus, and even got me onto the minibus in Dogubayazit headed for the border.

At this point I was feeling a little lost on a minibus to the Iranian border, but here is where the famous Iranian hospitality begins. Beside me on the bus was a very nice Kurdish guy named Afshin from Iran. He is a musician and had come to Turkey for the day to look at a new keyboard. He spoke a little English and we started having a chat. Well, after about half an hour he invites me to come with him to his family's house in Poldasht (tiny town right on the Azerbaijan border, this place doesn't get a lot of tourists!). I gratefully accept his offer trusting my heart, my head, and the advice of my friends and travel book that this type of offer is not uncommon and one would do well to accept.

We arrive at the border and Afshin leads me through the process, we get stuck in between the gates of no-man's land for about 10 minutes, quite amusing, the Turkish gate behind us has closed the Iranian one in front has not opened, and we are stuck on a 3 foot wide stretch of land. Again, lucky for me I am with Afshin who assures me this is not unusual. Eventually, after a fair amount of coughing on Afshin's part, someone comes and lets us in to the Iranian side. I am expecting to have my bags searched and be asked a lot of questions (you know, like when you simply pass through an American airport on your way somewhere). Well, they ask me where my next destination is (India), where I will leave from (Tehran) and that is it for the questions, no forms to fill out, nothing. Then, I get to the baggage search. They look through Afshin's stuff, but don't even ask me to open my bags. They just see that I have a tourist visa, and send me on my way! (as an aside, the “duty free” shop for Iran is, errr, well, not typical. No alcohol, cigarettes, perfume, or anything like that, just a very small collection of household items such as blenders and vacuum cleaners, needless to say I passed this one by!).

Once we pass through the doors to the other side, I realize just how very lucky I am to have met Afshin. We roll out the door, and off in the distance at least 2 km away in the dark is the tiny town, I have no idea what to do next, nothing much is going on. After a little while a small bus comes, which takes us a little further. Where it drops us off is Afshin's friend Mohammed with a car (again, still kind of in the middle of nowhere). We hop in the car and start to drive, but Afshin knows I need to change money from Euros to Iranian Rial. It is about 7:00 pm so the banks are closed and the street money changers are the only way. He said it was better to do it a little down the road, so down the road we went and stopped on a dark unlikely looking strip of street. He and I hop out of the car, cross the street and meet up with a money changer. I don't understand the words, but it is clear that Afshin is making sure I get my money's worth from this guy. A little bit of arguing and a couple more bills get handed over. I got 13,770 rials to the Euro, I traded 120 Euro, and now have the most ridiculous wad of bills I have ever possessed, and have achieved the not so impressive task of becoming an Iranian millionaire. I have about 1,650,000 rials, most of it in 10,000 rial notes. That would be about 160 bills. I am thoroughly amused by my apparent wealth for the next 10 minutes.

We hop back in the car and head for Poldasht, about an hour away. Well, I certainly made the right decision in accepting his offer, we arrive at his family's home, where his parents, brother, sister, uncle, and a couple more relations are sitting on the carpet eating. The conversation involves a lot of pantomime, but I am treated with such hospitality that I am humbled and a little unsure how to accept it all. We sit and eat, laugh, and drink tea, and eventually most of the family leaves to go visit another uncle. I will be amused for days remembering Afshin's uncle trying to tell me they have some chicken wings and legs that they could heat up for me. He flaps his arms like a bird, then makes like he is slitting his own throat, and finally grasps and his arms and legs. We all laugh really hard, and it becomes a running joke for the rest of the visit.

I am given a nice comfy place to sleep and in the morning a nice breakfast. Afterward, Afshin and I go out to find a SIM card for my cell phone (I am now on Irancell!). In the afternoon we catch a bus together out of town. I am going to Tabriz, which is about 3 hours away, and Afshin is going all the way to Tehran. He lives there most of the time, and needs to spend the next 3 days north of Tehran shooting a new music video. He invited me to join him, but I wanted to stop in Tabriz, and possibly Zanjan before Tehran, so we parted company in Tabriz, and will certainly meet up again in Tehran. So we are riding on the bus for a little while, and I find out that I have made the rooky mistake of locking my stowed luggage. It is not long before we hit one of the many police checks. They notice the locked luggage and (luckily Afshin understood that) I need to get off and unlock my luggage. They were going to check inside of it, but then Afshin told them I was a tourist, and they immediately decided it didn't matter any more, didn't bother to look, and sent us on our way. So far, “tourist” has been like a magic word for me, I hope it stays that way!

Soon we arrive at the bus station in Tabriz. Afshin seems to be friends with everyone from Poldasht, and makes the bus driver wait while he puts me into a taxi and sends me to my hotel, telling me I should pay 2000 rials (about $2) to the driver. The driver gets me where I am going, about a 10 minute drive, insists on taking my bag all the way into the hotel, and then accepts only 1500 rials.

Arriving at the hotel, I am relieved to find that the desk clerk speaks English. I have chosen a more expensive hotel - midrange according to the lonely planet, a private room with tv, bathroom and fridge - thinking I want an easy intro to Iran, and after 10 weeks of shared rooms I would love to have my own private room (although Dave and I had just spent 2 very relaxing nights in Ankara in a double room drinking what would be may last beer for a while, and watching satellite tv). The lonely planet said the price for my hotel was 160,000 rials a night, but also warns of rampant inflation in Iran. I ask how much for a room, and the clerk says 240,000 per night. I make a slightly surprised look, and say “wow, your rates have gone up”, without missing a beat the clerk says “ok, for you 200,000”. Sensing that bargaining is an option, I ask what the price will be per night if I stay for 3 nights. We settle on 192,000 rials a night. I am beginning to understand some things about hotel prices in Iran ;)

I spent last night in my pleasantly private room, and aside from a rather hard bed, I must say everything else is to my liking. There is one tv channel in English, with news from Europe, so I watched a little of that and then watched a couple of movies on my tiny laptop before enjoying a good night's sleep.

Today is Friday, and that is the Muslim day of rest (presumably since the Jews and Christians had already taken Saturday and Sunday respectively) so many of the shops are closed, but I had a pleasant walk around my first Iranian city (not counting Poldasht since it is a little town of about 10,000). I encountered a couple of people who speak English, one selling some items on the street corner, who helped me to find a nice restaurant in which to eat - he came in, and translated the menu for me, and ordered my food, wow these people are nice - and a couple guys who own a clothing store pulled me in for a cup of tea and a chat. They were very interested in Canada, and in hearing what I think of Iran.

It doesn't take long for many of the people I have met so far to tell me that they dislike the government here, but love the people. I was told that many people with education and/or money find a way to leave Iran, and so they think things here will not change, because the forces for change just get up and leave instead. I will be interested to see if this attitude is universal as I move throughout the country, but I suspect that among those educated enough to speak English (the only people I can speak with!) this may be the norm. It has been made clear to me that many people here are not religious at all, don't go to mosque, never pray, and hide in their rooms so they can eat food during the month of Ramadan, fearing arrest all the while.

Lot's more to learn, but by far this is already the most interesting, and most hospitable place I have come by in my travels. Several western norms are certainly turned on their ear here. Most of the women I've seen so far in Tabriz are actually wearing a chador (black long cloak covering their head and sometimes their mouth), but apparently there is another side of the city that is much more liberal and fashionable. I am pretty sure that in Tehran it will be more liberal as well; but expect women will still ride at the back of the bus, as they do here in Tabriz. As I walked around I noticed immediately that there are far more men on the streets than women, and most of the advertising, and fashion is aimed toward men. In the west it seems there are 3 women's clothing stores for every 1 men's store. So far, my Iranian experience is that there are 20 men's stores for every one women's store.

A final note on crossing the street in Tabriz (and I am sure any Iranian city). It cannot be done without incurring a certain amount of risk. Quite a lot in fact, it is like playing that old video game frogger! The onus is most definitely on the pedestrian not to get hit. So far I have tried to find a group of locals crossing the street, and blend in believing in the the old adage about safety in numbers, but sometimes, I just have to go for it, and keep my wits about me! (don't worry Mom, I'm being as careful as I can, and since there is no alcohol here, I won't be making any boozy crossings!)

More interesting things ahead I am sure!!

Turkey:

So, now backtracking to Turkey, where I had a great time, saw some amazing things, and for which I have pictures that I copied from my travel companions. As mentioned in a previous blog entry, I toasted my camera, and may not be able to find one in Iran. I really want to get some pictures here, but so far the only camera's I've seen are attached to cellphones. They have a strange mix of technology here, high tech European mobile phones are reasonably priced, but I haven't seen a digital camera.

Anyway, I arrived in Istanbul, Turkey on Christmas eve. The tourist area was almost completely empty - apparently everyone else realized that a Muslim country wasn't going to be the best place to celebrate Christmas - but of course me and Dave my travel companion throughout Turkey managed to find the cheapest bar in town and had some drinks. We stayed in Istanbul right through until New Year's day. We had fun shopping around (I got a good hat, gloves and scarf for the cold weather), and doing a bit of partying, particularly after we switched hostels to the surprisingly excellent HI hostel called The Oriental. That is where we spent New Year's eve, and is the source of all those pictures that look like a bunch of us partying our asses off. Good times had by all.

But, by far, the highlight of my time in Istanbul has to do with the shoe shiners. On our 2nd or 3rd day, Dave and I were looking for the Indian consulate, when a shoe shine guy drops his brush in front of us as he walks ahead. Naturally, we chase him down, give him the brush, and he acts very thankful and insists on shining, or at least cleaning Dave's (hiking) shoes. “Please don't break my heart, my sister needs and operation, I have a bad knee, owe it hurts yada yada”. Dave lets him do so, and the guy then asks for 18 Lira!! (about $14 Canadian). Dave laughs, tells him that I just got an “actual” shoe shine a few minutes ago for 3 Lira, and gives the guy 2 - which in retrospect was about 1.50 Lira more than he deserved for brushing the dust off of Dave's hikers.

After a while we speculate that the brush dropping might be a ploy. Well, sure enough, the next day 2 more guys do exactly the same thing, and we just point to the brush, and laugh. And then.....we start thinking.....”how can we have a little fun with this?”. Well, the next time a guy dropped he brush, we grabbed it, and ran like hell in the other direction until we could round a corner, and waited a few seconds. We then peaked around the corner, and sure enough there is the shoe shine guy running like hell to get his brush back! We are laughing hard, but his other shoe shine friends are almost doubled over with laughter, and of course the shoe shine guy has to be a sport about it too, and gives us a high-five, and makes no attempt to talk us into a shoe shine.

We loved it, but realized one thing was missing....video! So for the next few days, whenever we had time to spare, we went stalking shoe shiners. If all is as I hope, the videos of our successful theft, and return of a brush are attached here for your amusement.

After Istanbul, we moved on to the amazing Cappodocia region of Turkey. As you can see in the pictures, people have carved homes into rock faces and “fairy chimneys” all over the region. There must be thousands of cave dwellings and chimney fairy dwellings, most abandoned, but some still in use. We in fact stayed in a cave room in our hostel, which is part building, part cave.

Dave, Venezia (nice Aussie we met in Istanbul, she's in the pics) and I rented a car and drove around the region for a day, avoiding the tours that almost everyone else takes. We saw all the cool stuff, saved a little money, and got to move at our own pace. We explored a lot of cave dwellings and fairy chimneys, but by far the highlight has to have been the underground city in Derinkuyu. When we arrived there were no tour groups, so we were free to explore to our hearts content down the narrow passageways, and since we had a flashlight into a several unlit areas too. It is all carved out of soft volcanic rock and is a huge maze of rooms and passageways going as deep as 85 meters! Only 10% is open to the public (even that is big), but apparently the place could house 2,000 families in it's heyday when Christians were using it to hide from persecution.

I must return to this area someday in summer and rent a dirt bike to really check out all the cool places.

Back to Iran:

I will spend 2 more nights here in Tabriz, and will check out the big bazaar tomorrow, and some other stuff (I don't know what other stuff yet). Next I may stop in Zanjan before heading to Tehran. I like big cities, and Tehran has about 18 million people, and a good, very cheap, metro, so I am looking forward to seeing what urban Iran is like. So far I haven't seen any other tourists here, I wonder if I will meet any in Tehran?

Khoda hafez


Iran Blog post #2 - January 15, 2009

Well, time for another blog entry, or at least time to start one.

I have just spent 2 nights in Zanjan, at the very acceptable Saadi hotel. A comfortable double room for Tim (nice Aussie I met) and me was 95,000 (about $9.50 US a night) - albeit with shared bathroom. I arrived in Tehran about 2 hours ago after a fairly straightforward bus trip from Zanjan. Bus fare, like hotel rooms and pretty much everything else is very cheap. The 4 hour bus ride cost 35,000 rials, or about $3.50 US. This is the cost of riding on the more comfortable “Volvo” bus, apparently the less comfortable Mahmooly would be a fair bit cheaper!

As a funny aside, I put quotes around Volvo, because it has become a standard term here in Iran, that really just means it is a newer and more comfortable bus than the Mahmooly. When I arrived at the bus station the ticket sellers (outside the bus, there are no ticket windows) were shouting “Volvo Tehran, Volvo Tehran”, but my bus was not in fact manufactured by Volvo. I need to ride a Mahmooly at some point so I can compare.

I am now in my friend Reza's very nice empty condo watching satellite TV. Reza lives in Vancouver, but still has a condo here in Tehran; that sits empty most of the time. Once again, my very good luck, and Persian hospitality are making my visit here incredibly nice.

Reza's brother Morteza lives downstairs, and was able to let me in. Reza's sister Marzia (who speaks English well) has called me a few times to make sure I am okay over the last few days, and to assure me that I may call her if I need help with anything. I think my (unofficial) taxi driver would still be driving around Tehran if I had not taken her up on the offer, and gotten her to direct him to Reza and Morteza's building!

Tonight I will meet, and eat, with more of Reza's family, and also meet his good friend Jalil. I am looking forward to this, and find myself again humbled by the effort being made by Reza and his friends and family to make me comfortable. I very glad that I have brought some western (swiss, Lindt) chocolate as a gift, showing up empty handed to such hospitality would be difficult. People here offer so much more hospitality than the average Canadian, it is difficult not to feel a little guilty. I find myself wondering how I will return the favour if a friend from here visits Canada. My family and friends are very nice, and if I ask them to, I am sure they would do their best. However, I am also aware that for them to match the hospitality I am receiving here, would require them to do more than what we would consider normal. Let's face it, in Canada we don't often meet a stranger on the bus, and invite them to come and spend the night at the family household!

I have just now had a brief visit from Morteza. He brought fruit and biscuits and cigarettes and a pipe and tobacco to ensure I am comfortable. I already have coffee and tea and a superb apartment at my disposal, but it will be another hour before I gather with the family for dinner.

He has told me that Jalil will take me to the huge Tehran bazaar tomorrow; I think he is taking a day off of work to do so.

Part II
I had a very nice dinner with Morteza and his family and Jalil and Marzia, and also a nice day visiting the bazaar with Jalil (who did take the day off work for me!). We took the metro, because I said I would like to see it, it was very, very busy, and the front car is for women only (as opposed to the back of the bus!). It was interesting to be on a totally packed subway car, where every single passenger was a man. Later in the day when things were less busy, women did ride in the mixed cars.

At lunchtime Morteza joined us, and we met with some friends of theirs at the bazaar and had lunch. With our lunch we drank some “duk”, and drink made of yogurt, water, mint and I am sorry to say a generous amount of salt (I don't like it either Brish!). I think I would prefer honey.

After lunch we went back to the stall that belongs to Morteza's friends. This is where my experience starts to head for the surreal.

The friends tell me that they will be going to visit the former (and very likely future) Iranian president Mohammad Khatami on Saturday, and ask if I would I like to join them. No, seriously, I'm not joking. This is a very famous man in Iran, and also a very well known man internationally. I am sure that some of you reading this are aware of who he is, but for those who are not, this is roughly the equivalent of showing up in Canada as a tourist, and someone says, “hey, would you like to meet Trudeau?”

As some background, I have the following blurb from my Lonely Planet guide that I will copy here to ensure you understand the gravity of the situation:

KHATAMI & THE REFORMISTS
In 1997 the moderate, reform-minded Ayatollah Hojjat-ol-Eslam Sayyed Mohammed Khatami won the presidency in a landslide. Almost everyone, and especially the ruling clerics, was shocked. Khatami was a liberal by Iranian standards, but he was also an insider. He had studied theology in Qom, had held important posts during the Iran-Iraq War and served as Minister of Culture and Islamic Guidance for 10 years until he was forced to resign in 1992 - for being too liberal.
His election sent an overwhelming message of discontent to the ruling Islamic conservatives and resulted in a spontaneous, unlegislated liberalization. Suddenly, harsh laws on dress and social interaction were no longer being strictly enforced and women, especially those in Tehran and other major cities, embraced make-up, figure hugging manteaus and hair-colouring products with unbridled enthusiasm.
Khatami promised 'change from within', a policy of avoiding confrontation with the clerics and engineering change form within the theocratic system. When reformers won a large majority in the Majlis in 2000 and Khatami was re-elected with 78% of the vote in 2001, hopes were high. But what the public wanted and what Khatami and the Majlis were able to deliver proved to be very different. Of the hundreds of pieces of legislation the Majlis passed during its four-year term, more than 35% were vetoed by the conservatives on the Guardian Council.
The conservative backlash didn't stop there. Reformist intellectuals were assassinated, students beaten for protesting, dozens of reform-minded newspapers were closed and editors imprisoned. It was an effective campaign. With the reformers either unable or too scared to institute their promised reforms, the public lost faith in them and the idea of 'change from within'.
By 2004 living in Iran had become significantly easier than it had been before Khatami's election. Women had won greater freedoms, limited economic liberalization had spurred economic growth, and art and cultural activities were (relatively) thriving. Huge amounts of money were being spent on infrastructure, with new roads, railwayss and, in four cities, underground railways. But many Iranians were disheartened. So many promised reforms - both economic and social - had not been delivered that they lost sight of what had been achieved. The Majlis elections in February 2004 saw more than 2000 mostly reformist candidates, including 82 sitting members, barred from running by the Guardian Council and many chose not to vote as a means of protesting. The conservatives were swept back into power and for the last year of his presidency, Khatami was almost powerless.

This is the man I will meet on Saturday. There will be a new election in 6 months, and he is expected to run against the current, unpopular president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. My new friends are very optimistic that he will get another term as president, as he is still very popular. So what will I wear to meet such a dignified person? Jeans. Yep, good old blue jeans. I said to my friends that I had better go and buy some respectable trousers, but they assured me that Mr Khatami is a very down-to-earth fellow, and that jeans would be just f

I will be sure to get a photo, my first with a head of state, even if he is not head of state at the time of the photo. (Update on this, unfortunately my meeting fell through at the last minute, but happily Morteza did get to meet Khatami a few days later)

A few random notes on things I have seen here:
Bank interest, is very high. I have repeatedly seen signs advertising 19%. With inflation running at about 25%, this seemingly good deal, is actually a losing proposition!
I am for the first time in my life, in a country that does not have any Mcdonalds! (nor KFC, Pizza Hut, or Burger King). They do have Coke and Pepsi, someone explained that a Turkish company owns the rights to Coke in the region, and so it is available here.
Today we were driving in Jalil's car when he was flipping through the radio stations. He has a new car, so the radio brings up a small text message when it tunes to a radio station. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, it will usually say something like “CSFX Easy Listening” etc. Well, when we tuned to the government radio station the text read (in English) “Down with Israel”.

February 21st, 2009 - Back to the present! It is Saturday and I am still in Hampi. Tonight I will catch the overnight train to Bangalore, spend a day there, and then catch an overnight bus to Kochi. I expect I will be very tired on arrival.

More later (but sooner than last time)
Brad

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