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Tuesday 2004-05-25 - Tabriz, Iran
A hard-to-find church
We take the city bus to the center of Tabriz again, and go looking for the Armenian Maryam church, near the bazaar according to our little map. We can’t find it, and when we are obviously looking around us, an older man spots us and guides us there: he guessed what we were looking for because he himself is an Armenian. The church is in the block where we were looking, but with no obvious entrance: you have to go into an alley, then turn right into another alley, then knock on an iron gate.
We’re let into the courtyard by a friendly old man, but alas the church itself, dating back to 1782, is closed, and only opened for religious holidays. He tells us a little about Armenians in Iran: they’re only a very small minority with about 250,000 people in all. Here in Tabriz there are 4 churches, and they even have an Armenian school where the children learn Armenian (which has its own script), Farsi (written in Arabic script) and English (written in Roman script). They also used to have their own newspaper here (there’s a remnant of the printing press in the garden) but now there’s an Armenian newspaper only in Tehrān. Many of the Armenians here live in the flats around the church; the buildings are owned by the church.
Sunday 2004-05-30 - Kāshān, Iran
Dinner solves a misunderstanding
Unusually, our Iranian guide Showān had accompanied us for dinner in the Delpazir restaurant in Kāshān. After dinner, a conversation between him and our travel companion Marie Josee ensues (with Thom and me listening and sometimes prompting). Marie Josee, a very independent woman and capable travel companion, and Showān, a well-educated Iranian (but maybe raised somewhat traditionally) working as a guide to help finance his studies, had had a personality clash right from the first moment they met; now, they’re really talking for the first time, and Showān tells us what he’d wanted not to bother us with at first.
Just before we arrived in Iran, new rules set by the government required each group to be accompanied by a guide (we certainly hadn’t asked for one, and Marie Josee had actually wanted to “fire” him). His brief was that he was responsible for us, for our safety, and that we didn’t take any photographs of military objects. The problem is that we’re independent travellers, travelling ‘with’ a group rather than ‘in’ a group — something Showān had never encountered before, but the standard for the trips organized by Koning Aap Reizen (Monkey King Travels). It was already clear to us he always tried to stay with us and keep us together; at one time the group actually decided to get rid of him for once by splitting up and all go in different directions at the same time — unwittingly making Showān’s job very difficult for him. He actually had clear instructions (from the government, by proxy of his travel agency) to keep us together. Already on the very first evening, in Tabriz, he found this was impossible to do.
On the third day, so he tells us now, he’d called his boss to explain it was impossible to keep us together, but also that he found us really interested travellers and would like to stay with us. That evening, a meeting took place in Tehrān at the highest level: the minister of tourism, a man from the tourism bureau, and someone from the travel agency (Showān’s employer); the meeting lasted three hours. Finally, Showān did get ‘permission’ to ‘let us loose’ (not that he had any choice, but at least they’d acknowledged that); but he was told he’s still responsible for us not to photograph any military objects and for our safety (how is he going to handle that when we spread out over each city and town we visit?). The decision eased the situation for him only partly, and he’s still in a conundrum; if anything goes wrong, that will likely destroy his chance to go to abroad next year to continue his studies as he’s hoping to do: it’s not just his job on the line but his future as well.
On the other hand, not having encountered people before who travel like we do, he had decided to try an experiment to find out what it’s like: walk around a strange city, without help, without speaking the language, without even a map. In Sanandaj we’d encountered him together with driver Mohammed and assistant Ali, proudly telling us: “We do what you do!” We had no clue what he meant then but now it’s suddenly clear — and he confesses he actually didn’t manage to find the way back without help. Of course, that’s something you have to learn through practice but we’re impressed he actually tried this to get a feel for how we travel.
Showān also still has to report back where we are each day, and what we do — we have no problem with that — and Marie Josee has a solution: she’ll just give him the same photocopies with city information she gives us: that way he can ‘report’ without even trying to baby-sit us.
Of course in one conversation personalities and personal backgrounds don’t change. But at least now there’s a truce and mutual understanding. Showān has a difficult job to do, and his future is at stake as well…
Tuesday 2004-06-01 - Abyāneh, Iran
Museum village
On the way to Yazd we make a little side trip to Abyāneh — after the desert the river valley is in a surprisingly green: the village grew up in this oasis. Abyāneh is architecturally interesting, with all houses facing south to catch most of the sun during the very cold winters, overhanging bay windows in the second floors and all houses reddish in color as a result of the red mud used for plastering the walls. Still I find the visit somewhat disappointing: it’s become a museum village with a population thinned out by migration of those with a good education to Tehrān and other big cities, leaving behind only old people who try to make a living selling handicrafts to tourists. In winter, when there are no tourists, only a few hundred people actually live here. It just doesn’t feel like a ‘real’ village.
Friday 2004-06-11 - Tehrān, Iran
A hasty taste of the capital
For some reason we couldn’t get a flight from Esfahān to Mashhad as planned, so today we first take a flight to Tehrān and fly on to Mashhad in the evening, which gives us a chance to spend a little time in the capital. It’s not an attractive city, we’re told, but at least there are some good museums — some of them closed today because it’s Friday. We make the best of our time here. On most days, traffic is deadly here in this city of 15 million inhabitants, but since it’s Friday most businesses and shops are closed, and crossing the street isn’t a gamble.
Our first stop is at the Historical Museum and the Museum for Islamic Art next door (one ticket for both together). We have only two hours — much too short, 3 hours for each would be normal — but it’s still worth the entry price. The Historical Museum with its superb exhibits in chronological order helps to put into perspective all the things we’ve seen from different periods during the last weeks in Iran. The prehistoric finds, refined figurines and delicately decorated pottery (many pieces depicting ibex) are very interesting, too. Far too little time is left for the Museum for Islamic Art but they have some spectacular exhibits as well. Definitely a place to come back to, with enough time to spend.
After that, a visit to the mountain (hidden here under a multitude of restaurants and teahouses around a stream full of empty bottles) where Tehranians come for the fresh air — and some to do some real mountain climbing farther up; a park (no grass here on the mountainside, but plenty of trees and many seats in the shade, most of them occupied of course); and finally a modern shopping center where the (expensive) shops are actually open.
After that tour we leave for the airport again for our flight to Mashhad and have a nice Iranian dinner on board.
Saturday 2004-06-12 - Aşgabat, Turkmenistan
Running through the museum
When we arrive at the hotel in Aşgabat I immediately see it’s the same (nice) Kopetdag hotel where we were two years ago — nearly at the end of the row of hotels on the ‘hotel street’ (all new hotels built along the same street!). That means we’ll have a good breakfast tomorrow! Shortly before four we’re all checked in, and I run off to the National Museum at the end of the street which I missed last time but closes at five — one hour will get me at least an impression this time.
Downstairs are various exhibits about the country’s history, independence from the Soviet Union and economics, as well as as small geological and natural history departments. At the latter I recognize my favorite Yellow Souslik (a kind of ground squirrel) of which I saw so many in the desert here last time. But the most curious exhibit on this floor must be the collection of editions of the “Holy Ruhnama” written by president Nyazov: one copy of every language it has been translated into. I don’t see a Dutch one…
Upstairs are the ethnological and archaeological departments. The archaeological department is interesting particularly because it matches up nicely with the archaeological exhibits in the Historical Museum in Tehrān, illustrating how several cultures lived all over this area. I was also pleased to see the objects found at excavations at the Old Nisa site, a city from Parthian times to the south of Aşgabat now being restored, where we paid a visit last time I was in Turkmenistan (2002). After having seen the walls there, it’s quite interesting to see here what was inside: an obviously very refined culture. Later I hear from Bava that the best of what was found at the site is now at the museum in Moscow and not likely to be given back. What they do have is still beautiful, such as the 18 intricately carved “rytons” (drinking horns), with finely sculpted mythical beasts such as gryphons at the end; also interesting are the furniture parts (probably legs of chairs or tables) made from horn: they look like they have been turned on a lathe. There’s also a lot of nice pottery and jewelry, as well as good plans and models of how the various sites must have looked originally.
The ethnological department has (apart from carpets, which I’m planning to admire at the Carpet Museum tomorrow) superb samples of weaponry and traditional costumes and jewelry from all five provinces of the country. Just the costumes would be worth an hour’s visit!
The evening is spent with a nice dinner of kebabs, salad and the excellent local Berk beer at the nice open-air Aysberg (“Iceberg”) restaurant which I’m amazed I’d completely forgotten but am pleased to find back.
Wednesday 2009-05-20 - Esfahān, Iran
Where is the river?
In spite of the long trip yesterday, it was quite beautiful, and I´m glad we saw the petroglyphs hardly any traveler gets to see, so I don´t regret we gave up one day of Esfahān for that. But what´s left turns out to be much less than a day: instead of having a flight to Mashhad at 20:00 from here, we actually have a flight at 16:00 to Tehrān and fly from there to Mashhad, which means we have to leave the hotel already at 13:00. And with the very late night we had, we´re not getting up very early either. I totally give up my plan of walking along the Zāyande to the farthest bridge (a walk of at least two hours to get there): I’ll have to do that whenever I get back to Esfahān.
Before breakfast, I ask at the hotel reception desk about an Internet cafe. To my surprise, they tell me they have Wifi in the hotel lobby. I quickly get my netbook, and try. Sure enough there´s a signal: I just have to ask the receptionist for a WEP key (a password for the connection), and I´m in. I immediately log off again: I´ll check my email for any news from Mashhad when we get back. We quickly have breakfast, and head out for a walk: Carla, Uke, Ank and I.
Our first goal is the beautiful Si-o-se bridge (named after its 33 arches): beautiful as ever — but the river is not: it´s just not there any more! There is nothing more but a few small ponds of water, the swan-shaped water bikes resting sadly and uselessly on the mud. People are actually crossing the river across the bedding: it´s quite dry enough to walk on easily. What a strange sight! Since we have just a little time, we walk across the bridge, have a closer look at the river bed and the swan boats, and then walk back leisurely, taking quite a few pictures (at least I do, trying to catch the strange sight of the bridge crossing a disappeared river). We find out there hasn´t been this little water in 7 years: they closed the locks farther upriver so there would at least be water for agriculture, where it´s needed most.
From the waterless Zāyande we walk to the big Emām Khomeini square — one of the largest in the world an the most beautiful one I know. There’s no time to walk around (though I´d love to do that again): we have to pick and choose, so we go the big Emām Mosque. We walk around there, enjoying the spaces and unique tile mosaics here (with a bright yellow that really stands out and I don´t remember from anywhere else) — and then suddenly it´s 12:10 already and I have to rush off to the hotel to check my email before we leave. The good news is there is no mail from Mashhad, so our meet-up is supposed to go as planned (more about that tomorrow). The bad news is there is an email from SmugMug that my account there needs to be renewed by June 4th, and my credit card data is no longer valid so I need to update my account data: no problem — if only I had thought to bring my SmugMug password… that turns out to be the beginning of a long story that will be told in its entirety later.
