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Published: October 12th 2007
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Ardeshir's Fort
Picutre taken from the ruins of the "Fort of The Girl," or Ghaley-i-Dokhtar, overlooking a portion of the old neighborhood. Kerman Day 1
The bazaar and the Ganj Ali Khan Square:
Kerman is quite an idyllic place. It is a mid size town/oasis on the foothill of the Payeh mountains which is a continuation of the Zagros Mountains in the west. The hightes peak stands above 14 thousand feet. The city dates back to antiquity, it being located on the major Asian trading routes. The city's elevation is 6 thousand feet and is relatively dry. The temperature on arrival is 73 deg F, and the air is clean. The folks here speak Persian in their own dialect and are very friendly. From the airport immediately head to the city center and rent midrange hotel in the center of town close to the bazaar and the street where I grew up.
As I head back towards the old neighborhood, first pass through bazaar. This structure is one kilometer long and dates back to the Safavid period, i.e., the 1600's. It is filled with countless stores and counters, selling anything you can imagine; the food items and spices are mainly non-packaged and are sold in bulk.
Connected to the bazaar is the Ganj Ali square, which dates back to
the same period, and used to be the center of the town. It consists of a large square with gardens and pool in the center, a mosque, a caravanserai, and public bath turned into a museum, depicting bathing practices of the time. Despite multiple renovations, the architecture and the aura of the place is absolutely stunning; it allows the mind to imagine the flavor and manner of life in the pre-industrial Kerman. The square and the Bazaar are currently being refitted for earthquakes.
The Old Neighborhood:
Our old neighborhood probably dates back to hundreds of years. It is located on one side of a good size hill on which Ardeshir I, the first Sassanian king, built his castle 1500 years ago, who at that time established the city. The ruins of this castle which forms the immediate skyline of the neighborhood used to be a playground for the neighborhood kids. Now the trails are mainly roamed by stray dogs.
The houses were usually multi-family or multigenerational dwellings with rooms surrounding a courtyard or a garden with a central small pool. The roofs are doomed, with a central opening to let in the sun rays, making the rooms
Kerman Bazaar
The gold sellers portion. appear and feel spacious. Rooms in such houses are not typically filled with furniture. They are lined with rugs and surrounded by cushions. Food is served on sofrehs, or large cloth or plastic spreads, on the floor.
To my amazement and utter dismay I found the appearance and flavor of the old neighborhood to have completely changed. This change is due primarily to neglect. The houses and stores are made utilizing traditional methods of building: Use of baked bricks lined by mud straw. This requires yearly maintenance, and if neglected, they gradually assume the appearance of ruins. After repeated rain falls the mud straw eventually wears off , exposing the bricks.
The original Kermanis have either moved eastwards towards the newer parts of town, or left the state or country altogether. The entire population seems to have been replaced my migrant workers from the rural areas or from the nearby states or countries such as Afghanistan.
You see a similar trend in historical towns such as Yazd or Ardakan. The older parts of town are abandoned for the lure of the newly built houses which are primarily designed for convenience. No doubt this migration is fueled by
opportunists like develpers and real estate agents, who gain heavily from this. As the property values decline the old neigbourhoods become a haven for poor and struggling migrants. Ironically, the charecter and the charm can only be found in the old neighborhoods, with which most Kermanis I talked to happened to agree. Yet few like to move back as things seem to have really fallen apart. The story is analagous to what happens is the US for the similar reasons and with similar outcome.
The old Lady's house next door:
As I find my way through the small lanes towards the old house, notice that the door is padlocked and its entrance in complete disarray. Door to the house next door is open. I enter as no one responds to my repeated knocks. In the inner court-yard I hear the voice of an older woman with thick Kermani accent inviting me in. She is an elderly woman in her eighties, with a warm look and an inviting smile, her face wrinkled with age, and her hair covered in a traditional scarf. She does not remember her exact age.
Being half blind, she lives there with her elderly
Portion of the old neighourhood
Taken from the Fort of the Girl. husband who also half deaf; he had just left to house to buy eggs and chicken for dinner. The couple has lived in this house for 7 years. Their son, who now studies in England with the financial Aid of the Iranian Government, bought this house from our old neighbor.
She invites me in for tea. The living room furniture consists of a rug, cushions, a kerosene stove and a gas burner, on which she prepares tea. On the walls are hung pictures of the holy Imams, quotes from the Quran, and a small picture of Ahmadi Nejad. She goes on to tell me that the house next door has been abandoned and is repeatedly vandalized by the neighborhood kids who have been using it as a hangout joint.
She proceeds with her chores of preparing dinner as she speaks. It was a surreal experience, sitting cross-legged on the floor a stranger's house that for some reason did not seem like a stranger. Her kindness and manner of speaking and dress reminded me our care-taker in the house next door, who had helped raise my brother and I from infancy.
As we speak her husband walks in.
Ardeshir's Fort
Another view of the old neigborhood. He is a shorter man with partial white beard and a small black cap dressed in a modest worn out suite. He says that the battery for his hearing aid is off and doesn't hear a word I say. His wife then instructs him to take a seat. Then they get into a short exchange in regards to the size and type of chicken or the number of the eggs he has purchased for dinner.
They both invite me to dinner, but I decline; the sun was setting and I had just set out to explore the neighborhood. The husband having not had heard me asked me to stay overnight. Then his wife reminded him that I am not homeless and tha I do have my living arrangement for the night. When he asks who I am and what I do, his wife quickly interjects: "what business it is of yours (to chekar dari) he is traveller, who has just come and who is just about to leave."
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