First impressions of Tehran

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Here I am in the middle of Iran, in Isfahan. But first let me take you back to my arrival in Tehran at IKA airport, because you have some catching up to do.

Sitting on the flight, wondering what was awaiting. The stories some people told, women never travel on their own, you will not be able to get about without a driver and interpreter, and of course, is Iran safe?, all are easily batted away with facts and figures when on solid land, but once in the air there was no going back. I was sitting next to an Iranian woman, hijab already firmly in place, though manteau folded neatly on her lap and a blond looking westerner. We started talking and I learnt R and her husband B, who was from Ireland, had lived in Dublin for five years were now back visiting family. She wanted to move back to Iran. She was lovely, talking at a million miles an hour about how she would arrange things, such as getting us off the plane quickly sliding down our own personal slide from the seat grabbing luggage on the way, so eager was she to get back to her own land and the sunshine.

The last minute before we landed the women who were not Islamically dressed in hijab and manteau pulled them and adjusted their scarves. Many are in a semi state of falling off with highlighted hair swept up under the finest gauze. I had been told that sandals were a no-no and that socks had to be worn. R allayed my fears about that one. Sandals were fine. However she did say that the manteau I was wearing was fine (it was that long shirt which just covered my arse that I found in the market in Istanbul) which I think having been here a couple of days now that as a westerner you could get away with it but probably as a woman alone that it is not the best idea. But having checked with other Iranian women, the most important thing is having your hijab on...

They were so kind and calmed the odd butterfly, they even said lets go through passport control etc together. We waited in line for what seemed like forever. I think I was one of the last people to go through; there were very few other westerners on the flight. A simple salaam to the passport control man he said something in Farsi and I smiled and shrugged showing that I spoke none. When we finally got through, I tried to stop thinking 'I am in Iran, I am really here'. So many questions of how it was going to be, but looking round it seemed normal in that businesslike airport anywhere feeling. Of course there were women in hijabs and chadors, waiting and waving for friends and relatives. My friends gave me their number and said that we must meet in Tehran, and that was my first experience of the legendary Tehran hospitality. I was going to stay in Firouzeh Hotel and Mousavi the manager said that he would send a taxi and not to travel with anyone else. I could see no taxi where we had arranged to meet in front of the desk, and R rushed up to see if I was ok and whether I needed to phone anyone. Just at that moment there was a little man with my name on a sign. Getting into the carpark, my first shock was all the numberplates were in Farsi script. I used the way to Tehran trying to work out the letters and numbers... Only thing is letters you read right to left and numbers left to right like us. So still have not worked out how you read the number plates?!

Getting to the hotel, the room was great. Only thing was it had an ensuite shower and no toilet. I would have to remember to wear my hijab (and of course everything else ) to the toilet in the middle of the night. (I did actually forget once)! The floor was full of guys who funnily enough were out of their room when I came up. The radar was working! The room was clean and with a carpet on the floor, I was reminded I was in Persia. There was also another carpet on the radiator, obviously there for praying. I even had a (partial) view from my window of the glorious Amir Kabir street, centre of cheap hotels and spare car parts. I have never seen so many shops selling random bits of equipment; nothing was pretty not one thing.

Mr Mousavi greeted me, I had been told that he was really helpful superkind guy. I decided to eat downstairs. Sitting there, aware that I was the only women in room full of guys, some did stare, but mostly they just got on with stuff. Then a couple of women came in and I felt a bit easier. There were actually a couple of backpackers staying there. Got talking to a lovely woman Yazmina who was French-Algerian. It was her second trip to Iran and she gave me some good tips. Including if I ever went up to Gorgon in the North on the Caspian there is somewhere where as she described it, there is a field full of dicks, some even with balls. No one knows how they got there!! I could imagine the villagers round about going, what field, oh no.... no idea - that wasn't me!!

I breakfasted on flat bread boiled eggs honey and a strong goats cheese that tasted like I was in a mountain village somewhere, somewhere far away. The tea was great, smoother and less bitter than the Turkish brew. I saw people put the sugar cube between their teeth like I heard about and sip their tea through that. I just threw it in the cup and let be.

The next day I wandered around the area, when I needed to cross the road, which I did unfortunately sometimes, I followed the Iranians walking slowly into steady streams of fast moving crazy traffic, trying to make sure that I had an Iranian between me and the cars. (This was not helpful the one time I crossed the road with a man with a death wish, it was either do or die as I hopped and skipped in his footsteps). Seeing a woman selling hunks of meat from a plastic bag was interesting. Other things which struck me were the no photos signs on nondescript buildings. There was a mural on the wall which looked like Mary with the martyred Jesus but was probably a martyr from the Iran-Iraq war. I sought refuge from the hectic strangeness and the traffic in the Park-e Shahr, where families sat and played with children. One man tried to talk to me and followed me for a bit, but I soon made it clear that he was not going to get anywhere and he left me alone. Another man followed me saying 'very good madam' for about 5 minutes, which made me laugh. What was he trying to say?!

I finally ended up at the National Archaeological Museum of Iran, where I managed to get in free by flashing my Museums Association card. Great. As the guide book says it is no Louvre. Not very large and with a lot of pots there are labels in English and an Audio guide I did not use. Many more objects are in the Treasury. The Museum of Islamic history is closed for renovations.

There are some spectacular pieces however from the Achemaenid time ( 550 - 330 BC) including pieces from Persepolis and Parsegarde, such as an almost lifesize relief of Darius and some steps. As I was wandering round a woman asked me if I had any questions, saying that she knew that I worked in museums. We ended up chatting, she was a curator called P and she suggested that I go and have a look at the Ceramic and Glass museum up the street, where she would pick me up and then we could go to her house and have dinner! How kind! What a wonderful opportunity I said yes of course.

The Ceramic and glass museum was in a spectacular building from the Qajar time. The curving staircase was a wonder, and made me want to swish down in cindarellastylee on the way to the ball. It had lots of ceramics from Nishapur in the 10th century... which is the period I am interested in so was happy snapping like a tourist...

P met me outside and took me to the Zoroastrian Fire Temple where after some persuasion the men allowed us inside, it was meant to be closed. Everything there was donated. I saw the fire smouldering, it is never allowed to go out. It is interesting that more and more Iranians are becoming interested in Zoroastrianism. I have seen a couple (in two days) wearing the zoroastrian sign. Hmm for some reason google is down otherwise I would show you (weird)!

This is because Zoroastrianism was the original religion in Iran and together with more people giving their children Persian rather than Arabic names, could this be seen as a tiny stand? Many many people said they were not religious and that before the revolution they drank in public and prayed in private, now they pray in public and drink in private.

Anyway back to P, after stopping at a glasses shop so she could pick up her outsize super cool glasses, we took a shared taxi to her place. It is no joke getting these even for a Tehrani, you just have to shout your destination as the driver decides in a heartbeat whether he will pick you up or not... We got to her flat where she lived on her own. Unusual in Iran. It was a lovely two bedroom flat, where the second she called her library, with white walls and full of things that she had made and found. She is a talented sculptor. First unwinding ourselves out of hijab and manteau, we ate sweets before dinner, which seeing as it has happened again, I now see as a bit more usual! We spoke about people we knew in common and what her research interests are. She asked me whether my hotel was alright and if I had any problems I was to come and stay with her. So kind. She had been in the British Museum at a conference last year and was full of stories of London. We made plans to meet with some colleagues of her when I got back to Tehran. So I reckon I will be spending over a week there, in that busy, dusty but am sure fascinating city.

She cooked me a wonderful meal of saffron rice with chicken and with yoghurt mint cucumber walnuts and onion. Absolutely delicious. We then watched a film about Persepolis... I am so excited to see it for real. The computerisation worked for once and seeing the columns rising up out of the ground was really impressionant.

P wouldn't even let me get a taxi home on my own, but insisted on coming with me although she was working tomorrow, it was a saturday or equivalent. As the Iranian weekend is Thursday and Friday...

Finally getting back I met up with Rita the Austrian woman that I had email exchange via Thorn tree, both realising that we were going to be in Iran at the same time... She was off to Isfahan the next day and I decided to go to and to hang out a bit with someone as it means that you can go places at night and take opportunities that as a single woman is not always wise to!

Have just turned down a cigarette! Not many Iranians smoke it seems. But I feel proud, maybe first step to giving up!

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Comments

[anonymous]

Cool blog. :) I want to see Persepolis too as soon as I get my hands on it. Two people already recommended it to me. Mel