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Wednesday 2004-06-09 - Esfahān, Iran
Thirty-three arches
Esfahān is famous not only for its Emām Khomeini square, but also for its bridges over the the Zāyande river. Late afternoon, with the sun sinking and just at the right angle, Carla and I walk to the Sī-o-Se bridge which is so named because of its 33 arches (sī-o-se means 33 in Farsi). This pedestrian bridge was built in 1602; double arches on two levels give it a remarkable style and texture, enhanced in the late light, and always provide some shade regardless where the sun is. We admire it first from the northern shore of the Zāyande river, with the huge fountain and ‘swan’ water bikes in front, then experience it by walking all across it. On both sides of the river are parks with shaded walking paths, another area where a lot of people come to relax and play after work.
Of course, being a real bridge nut, I take a lot of pictures of the huge bridge and its surroundings. Afterwards, we sit on a low wall at the river shore with a (non-alcoholic) beer and a bag of chips, just watching and enjoying the sunset.
Thursday 2004-06-10 - Esfahān, Iran
Singing under the bridge
Looking at the map of the city, I had reasoned that the bridges for which Esfahān is famous should be at their best in the early morning or evening, with a low sun at the best angle. So: we get up at 5:30 am and at precisely 6 walk out of the hotel. The streets are very quiet now (it’s no longer risky to cross the street) and you can hear the birds singing. I always love to see a city before it fully wakes up.
We walk to the Zāyande river and then left (East) along the northern shore. People are walking along the paths to their work, others are jogging or doing gymnastics. At 7 we’re just past the Khāju bridge which was built to double as a dam (the square notches that once held the sluice doors are still visible) and has nice 17th century paintings and tile work. We’re just in time: the light is indeed very beautiful. Unfortunately at the moment you can only walk along the bottom of the bridge: they’re reconstructing one of the ramps to the upper level. Under the bridge is a long row of arches: you can look through all the way to the other end of the bridge. At the other end a number of men are sitting; nearby others are doing gymnastics. We walk across and find out the men at the end are the public for a man who’s singing — a capella, taking advantage of the acoustics of the stone arches. He has a good voice and sings classical Iranian songs; the songs are full of emotion, a bit like Portuguese fado, although we can’t of course understand the text. When he stops after a while, another man under the next arch takes over, and we walk on.
Poetry under the bridge
We want to continue our Esfahān bridge tour along the southern shore of the Zāyande river by passing under the Sī-o-se bridge and discover there’s a chaikhana (tea house) here. So we order a pot of tea and sit down on a small bench under one of the arches. After a little while, a young man sits down across from us and starts talking to us. He’s a writer, he tells us, and has written five books but can’t get them published here (why, remains unclear). He offers us a little poem which he writes down in Carla’s notebook - I can put it on my website, he says. So here it is:
Windows
People tell me
That windows
Don’t have feelings or a heart
But when the glass of a window
Is steamed up
And I’m writing with my finger on it
The words “I love you”
Then the window panes
Start to cry!
Sepāhān
(Moghpoet[at]yahoo.com)
The ‘forgotten’ genocide
Our next goal is the Armenian quarter of Esfahān, Jolfā, South of the Zāyande river. It’s immediately obvious this is one of the more wealthy areas of Esfahān. We visit two churches there, their inside completely covered with superb paintings; the gilding is real gold! The Bethlehem church is smaller and only opened (with a huge key) on request but it’s more intimate than Vānk cathedral and I prefer it for that reason.
Connected to Vānk cathedral is a small museum. One of the exhibits here is devoted to the genocide of Armenians in Turkey early last century (around 1915 if I remember correctly). While Armenians everywhere are pressing for acknowledgment of this horror, Turkey still officially denies it ever took place. Here, documentation is presented, in the form of letters and telegrams with clear instructions to kill all Armenians without mercy and even quite shocking film images — except there is no way to tell whether it’s authentic. The estimate is 1.5 million Armenians were killed, and the same number deported to neighboring countries (one of the reasons why so many Armenians live in Iran now, and are allowed their own language and religion and left in peace). Armenians all over the world commemorate the genocide on 24 April, demanding Turkey finally acknowledges it.
(If this is what happened, I think they should, and not be allowed into the EU until they do — but is it? Arguments from both sides actually sound equally convincing.)
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.
