Day 3: In Tehran in depth

I'm filling in blip gaps from my travels in Iran in March hence this late post.  I have written down a few impressions of this day but may add to this over the next week or so and will point this out in a later blip for anyone interested.

This was day 3 in Tehran.  My blip is the view from Azadi Tower at midday prayer time (which most people ignored). The contradictions in this image between formality and informality capture so much of what one experiences in Iran.

I had spent more time in Tehran than I had planned to because the trains to Shiraz had filled up over Nowruz (Persian New Year) but in the end I really enjoyed seeing a lot more of the city and its inhabitants than I might otherwise have done.

The light in Tehran at this time of the year (and I suspect for most of the year) is extremely bright, and consequently rather flat, and is further aggravated by reflections off the bare concrete which is the standard exterior of most buildings (selling exterior wall paint is not a great idea for a business venture in Tehran ..).  The guided tour of the Azadi Tower is good; they ask where you're from when you buy your entrance ticket and a short while later someone returns with a guide who speaks your language.  EVERYONE in Iran asks two questions:  where are you from and what do you think of Iran?  The man operating the lift spoke perfect English with a strong American accent and told me he had graduated from Oklahoma State University. Iranians everywhere seem to be very proud of their country (and often very critical in private conversation) and were always eager to hear my impressions.  Many times it felt like they were seeking reassurance about themselves, about the status of their country.  This self-consciousness is I think quite typical for people under sanctions.

Azadi Tower was one of the Shah's last major projects and an attempt to unify the country, at least symbolically, in celebrating the 2,500th anniversary of the Persian Empire. Nonetheless, it's not an attractive structure and my impression was of a huge expression of vanity.  The fact that the sun was blazing down, with the brightness reflected off the stark whiteness of the concrete absolutely blinding, didn't really help my judgement. The architecture is described as "a fusion of Achaemenid, Sassanid and Islamic" (and I thought it looked that way, everything and nothing), now crumbling and being restored in many parts.

Azadi Tower was commissioned in 1971 and apparently paid for by "a group of five hundred Iranian industrialists".  Originally named Shahyad Tower ("Kings Memorial") in honor of the Shah, it subsequently became a focal point for protests, and the name was changed to Azadi Tower ("Freedom") after the 1979 Revolution.

Earlier, I had managed to navigate the process of buying my train ticket to Shiraz at the Central Railway Station in Tehran. There is usually at least one person in any public office in Tehran who speaks English or someone runs out to find someone who does. Service is good and friendly and everyone seems keen to help foreigners.  The ticket was relatively cheap (about $25 for a sleeper bunk on the modern overnight express to Shiraz - about 900 km to the south - more to post on that in tomorrow's post). 

I left Azadi and took the metro up to northern Tehran for the afternoon, to Tajrish, where the altitude makes the weather much cooler.  This area was previously a collection of villages in the foothills of Tehran but has now been developed as one of the wealthier parts of the city.  Some of the extra blips are taken in the yard at the mosque (the Imamzadeh Saleh Mausoleum).  I was the only foreigner around and I stepped into the yard with some trepidation but found it surprisingly informal - kids running around, teenagers and others taking selfies of themselves (boys separately from the girls), men chatting on their mobile phones inside the mosque, with Ayatollah Khomeini gazing down benignly or otherwise from a portrait on the wall outside the mosque (I was told that the authorities are now using friendlier-looking portraits and have done away with the stern images used previously).  The Tajrish Bazaar located adjacent to the mosque had some of the best-looking fruits and vegetables I have ever seen. The name of each store is carved or tiled into the facade above the store.  It was busy but quieter than normal being a holiday.  It was fascinating to see the Kurdish traders on the sidewalk outside, dark, wild-looking men with baggy trousers tied at the ankle, constantly harrased by the police and able to bundle their goods (in this case, socks) into a sheet and move away in seconds only to return a few minutes' later.

I traversed the length of Tehran today: I began the day at the railway station at the start of Valiasr Street, Tehran's longest street, and ended it in Tajrish, where Valiasr ends (18 kilometers and 500 meters in elevation later).  Incidentally, the writer, Ramita Navai, uses Valiasr as a seam through her book on modern-day Tehran, City of Lies (not for readers of a nervous disposition ..).

Later on I went back to mid town to Tabiat Bridge, Tehran's newest footbridge and the one place that every Teherani urges you to go to (the image of north Tehran in the extra blip is taken from the bridge).  It's a modern and quite spectacular bridge but bridges are bridges.  Nonetheless, Teheran is very proud if it.  Iranians seem to love promenading and Tabiat Bridge is 'promenade central' for Tehran. Incidentally, the bridge was designed by the Iranian architect, Leila Araghian, who won the design competition at age 26.  A remarkable individual and someone who has shown that your dreams can become reality.

As the sun was setting I tried to make it cross the city to the Milad Tower where the views of the city at sunset are spectacular.  Milad is the world's sixth tallest telecommunications tower (these are the other five).  However, it seemed that much of Tehran's population had had the same idea (it was after all a public holiday) so the traffic was dense and the queues 4-deep.  I made it to the base of the tower which was a great view in itself.  As I was leaving to find a taxi the call to prayer came on over the loudspeakers.  I noticed a taxi driver laying out a prayer mat next to his car but the rest of the people simply raised their voices above the sound of the speakers, and carried on shopping.

Tomorrow:  Day Four and the Train to Shiraz.