Glimpses of Tehran - Part 1 - Ken Gibbs

THE BACKGROUND IS NOT
AN ASSASSINS’ CASTLE

Tehran had 4 million people when I first came in 1975. Today (2003), the population is 14 million - with traffic to match. I was here for OXFAM and UNICEF, working on preparations for a potential inflow of refugees following the second Gulf War.

Surprisingly, while there is much, much more traffic, the roads are very much better than they were; and people seem to have a style which (generally) doesn’t lead to serious accidents. However, I quote verbatim from the security guidelines which I was provided when I went into the OXFAM office here for the first time: “Road Safety: By far the greatest threat to personal safety in Iran comes from Iranians’ driving techniques and urban traffic density. Any Highway or Green Cross Code can only be regarded as a basis for discussion and is summarily ignored by the majority of road users.” This is exactly as I remember Tehran driving habits.

Having some of the language allows me to move through the city freely. You wave down a cab and shout your destination as the taxi passes. If he’s going that way, he’ll stop; if not, he continues. When they discover I can say ‘Hello’ and ‘Good Morning’ I am immediately inundated with questions and have had some very friendly rides and have even had to fight to pay the bill once because the cabbie wanted to give me the ride, free. No other foreigner even tries to speak the language, they say.

Being able to say that I come originally from Zimbabwe has its merits. There is the normal disbelief because I am white, but when I explain how it came about (I suggest that my mother dropped me in the bleach as a baby), it takes me well away from being an American, and we can talk about how the USA has ‘taken out’ the ‘Government’ of Afghanistan; is now ‘taking out’ the Government in Iraq - when is it the turn of Iran ?

I had a haircut a few days ago - and it shows. Every cab driver since then has asked if I am German ? Well, at least it’s cooler.

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An extract from a note to my children:

I thought I’d just write a quick note to you as I sit here drinking beer (non-alcoholic, but brewed in Iran (How do you brew without creating alcohol, I wonder ?)) and eating a slab of nun-e-barbari (the local flat bread which they loved). I can confirm that the bread tastes as good as ever it did, and buying it was a yell:

I smelled it long before I found it. There was a short queue at the door and it was space-age inside. None of this tandoori nonsense - they have a flat horizontal disc that rotates taking the raw slabs in one side into a gas fired, stainless steel, sparkling oven, and the cooked bread arrives out the opposite side. The time of cooking is carefully controlled by the speed of rotation. No burning of hands with this machinery. I joined the queue and noticed that one thing has not changed; men barge right in at the front of the queue. I said nothing because there was no rush, until the chap behind the counter raised his eyebrows at me to see what reaction he would get. I said I wanted just two slabs but I could wait - the last one I had had was thirty years ago. The three people who had pushed in ahead of me pretended that they were mortified and apologized profusely, and the chap behind the counter swept all orders aside till I was given the next out of the oven. Wow ! Did it ever taste good ?!! Then I went down the street offering it to each passer-by (an old and rather charming tradition in Iran) to get a wonderful acknowledgement and a ‘Happy New Year’ in Farsi. It’s that time in Iran - Now Ruz.

I even had a quite well spoken Iranian woman approach me on the street to ask for directions and she had to laugh when I confessed to being a foreigner like herself.

Despite the war, Tehran has closed down in the usual fashion for the Now Ruz holiday. Naturally, OXFAM has been working most of the time and when I went into the office yesterday, I saw that the concierge had the ‘Haft Seen’ (those items which are found in every Iranian household for the Now Ruz celebration, making up the 7 things starting with the letter ‘s’) on the counter in his cubicle. I examined the items (Lord knows how much he must have spent on them) and agreed that he had the correct number (7); that he had the orange and the bowl with a goldfish; that he had some small change; but he only had one book. “Why ?” I asked. “Where are the poems of Hafeez ?” (In really traditional displays, this is always included with the Qur’an; and he only had the Qur’an). This really blew him away and I fully expect to see a book of poems on display when I go to the office tomorrow. Let’s see.

WITH THIS VIEW FROM THE HOTEL, WHO WOULD WORRY ABOUT FOOD QUALITY ?

*****

To-night, I wanted to break out. I am fed up to the back teeth with the chicken (chicken kebab; chicken escalope; and chicken with rice) that is the sum of the choices for main meals in the restaurant in the hotel where I am staying. Variety is introduced only when one has soup (stodgy vegetable or stodgy barley soup depending on the day of the week); or one can really break loose by having a mixed salad. But protein is from chicken or chicken or, guess what ? Chicken.

A few days ago, I found a nice looking restaurant in the street about 300 metres from the hotel so I thought I’d just drop in and have a chelo kebab; or a fesenjun - if that’s on the menu - or something which is traditional and likely to be tasty and safe. On arrival at the restaurant, I find it shut. Apparently it only serves food in the middle of the day. OK; so I’ll try the other direction. I set off and about a mile later I have seen every type of shop imaginable but no restaurant. One fast food outlet which sells an unappetizing version of an Italian pizza, yes; but no restaurant. So I ask a chap who wants to try out his three words in English and I am directed uphill to the next crossroads about a mile distant where he maintains there is a restaurant. There isn’t one. I decide to ask someone else and find a small shop where three people are looking bored. They are really quite surprised that a foreigner can speak any Farsi at all and they are very anxious to help. Do I want ethnic food or traditional Iranian ? I opt for traditional Iranian for all the reasons above, and the woman who speaks beautiful Farsi says that if I go two or three kutchak-ha (small roads) up the main road, there is a really very good traditional restaurant.

There is. I find it. It’s traditional alright. I can’t see more than about five metres into it because all seats which have a chair-back to the wall have been taken and the occupants are all - and I mean all - smoking hubble-bubble pipes. It would make a Roloff Beny photograph to die for, but I don’t think my asthma would last until the chelo kebab would arrive on the table so I very sadly have to give this one a pass. Presumably there must be other restaurants around.

Well, about three miles later - by which time I have discovered that alcohol free beer has similar diuretic properties to the stronger beers from home, and not a suitable facility in sight meaning that I’d best make quickly for the hotel, when I find another photo opportunity type restaurant. This one is not full; it just has one chair left between tables filled with smokers. With the look on their faces, I have to assume that the tobacco has some additive which probably comes from Afghanistan where opium poppies are said to do very well; and I’m afraid the diuretic wins. I make for the hotel at full speed.

Back to the escalope, I guess - but will it be with, or without soup, and will I risk the salads ?

*****

And I haven’t even started the process of buying a carpet - it would be scandalous to walk into a shop and simply buy one - one is obliged to drink a lot of tea; talk about Now Ruz; the excellent quality of this year’s pistachio nuts; the war; the traffic in Tehran; how good Mount Damavand looks with its snow cap and so on. The process can take years where you come in and take up where you left off last time. Sometimes you take away the carpet to see what it looks like in your home and this is the astonishing bit, they take no deposit, they trust you absolutely. I’ve never yet heard them to have been disappointed. Try that in New York !!!!

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