Imams, carpet salesmen, used car salesmen and the Supreme Leader

---

Reza is working, so he leaves me with his friend Mehrdad. Mehrdad and his taxi driver brother Mehdi come to collect me and after a sneaky lunchtime tea (behind closed doors so as not to offend the masses) we head to the Holy Shrine of Imam Reza. Apparently he was a pretty popular bloke because the sheer size of the Haram is unbelievable. After much confusion (since alot of the site is off-limits to non-muslims) we are allowed in and are ushered to the Islamic Relations Office and Foreign Pilgrims Affairs, where I am bombarded with Islamic propaganda by friendly staff. The museums are interesting, my favourite exhibit being the ode to nuclear power - a sculpture of two hands holding a radioactive cannister, with jars of each element displayed underneath...... contra-versial.



So, its Tuesday morning and I'm walking down the main street of Mashhad when a middle-aged man appears out of nowhere and starts talking to me in very good English, asking me where I'm from, what I'm doing in Iran etc. Naturally I assume he's shifty, especially when I he asks me to send him my Lonely Planet Iran when I'm done with it. He takes me to his carpet shop (i should have seen that one coming) and takes my name and address, which I happily bullshit to him. Amazingly he doesn't try and sell me any carpet, and I wonder whats going on. He gives me his card and I leave.
Ten minutes later, I'm walking down the main street of Mashhad and another middle-aged man appears out of nowhere, and starts asking me the same questions. Turns out this guy is a carpet merchant too, and as I'm trying to figure out the scam he shows me his ID - Vali is a tourguide who also operates a guesthouse. He turns out to be a really nice guy, and takes me to buy my bus ticket for Yazd, and also tries to flog some carpet off to me (which I didn't get a chance to look at and I regret now). I show him the card that the first guy gave me and ask if he knows him. "Oh yes" he smiles "He is my friend. A very good man. Did you buy any carpet from him?" Classic.

Later Mehrdad and his father take me to meet an old family friend, Parviz, a used car salesman who has lived in the US for the last 40 years. His english is exceptional and he has the gift of the gab, and its interesting to hear his take on how Iran has changed over the last 40 years. We indulge in the culinary delight that is pistachio icecream in carrot juice, which is infinitely tastier than it sounds. In later conversations with Mehrdad we discuss Iranian hospitality, and I go on a rant about how the first people you meet in a new country are beggars and taxi drivers, and all they want is your money and it tends give negative connotations about the rest of the country. Then I remember that both of his brothers are taxi drivers. Oops.


I awaken the next morning to the sight and sound of the Supreme Leader giving his end of Ramazan speech on television. We head out to Tus to see the poet Ferdosi's tomb, which is surrounded by beautiful gardens and makes you feel like you're a million miles from the city. The highlight for me occurs on the walk back to the bus stop, when a car pulls up on the side of the highway and a man emerges brandishing a high-powered air rifle, and proceeds to start picking off birds while his missus watches. I love it.

We meet up with uncle Habib and his family who take us on a cruise out to Shandiz, where we eat an awesome buffet lunch at an even awesomer restaurant. Kind of like Smorgies but about ten billion times better, its apparently the best restaurant in town. After lunch we get stuck into a qalyan, and I surprise them with my exceptional lung capacity. They ask if I've smoked qalyan before, and I neglect to tell them about all the bongs I smoked in my teenage years. Then of course the kids want to smoke, and I probably don't help the situation by taking photographs of them smoking, which just makes them want to smoke more...

After lunch we head to the stepped village of Kang, and I nearly break my leg trying to get a good picture of the town. Later in the evening we head to Mehrdad's grandmothers house for an end-of-Ramazan family get-together. There's around 50 family members present, including ten of his eleven uncles. Needless to say I get my picture taken with every single one of them, apparently they don't get too many Australians in these parts. The party is segregated, with men in one half of the room and the women and kids down the other end. I get quizzed on everything from living conditions in Oz/Ireland, income, religion, house prices, etc. Mehrdad does an outstanding job translating. Later we go out for fast food with uncle Mehdi. The Supreme Leader watches over us as we devour our hotdogs. Everyone in the restaurant looks at me strangely when I take a photograph of his portrait...


Thursday sees us visit Kuh-e Sengi, a really cool park/mountain that looks over Mashhad. From the top you realise just how big the city really is. After a kebab lunch I say goodbye to the family and Mehrdad and Mehdi take me to the salon where Mehdi's wife works. Its the most prestigious salon in Mashhad and is where all the brides go to get their hair and make-up done. I ponder the irony of women paying a small fortune to get their hair done when they have to cover it up all the time, but later find out that this isn't the case at weddings. We head to the bus stop and bump into Vali, who is saying good-bye to his guests Pat and Christina, who are also from Oz. I say my goodbyes with Iranian man-kisses and get on the bus for Yazd. I sit next to a kid called Amir from Neishabour, who doesn't speak english but gives me a book of Kayyham poetry and buys me dugh. Iranians: possibly the nicest people in the world.

---