Leaping Thought Wednesday (Iran Part 4)

Conservatively dressed women admire the ceiling of a mosque in Isfahan.

This is what held their attention so raptly.

Before going to new places, sometimes even when I visit old ones, I always consult travel books as well as the internet to learn more about my destination. What I often discover runs along practical lines, where to sleep, where to eat, how to get around and what to see. Sometimes however, I discover a little more beyond the obvious, things like: when not to visit, what not to eat, what locales to avoid and why something touted as a worthwhile expenditure of my time might not be so worthwhile after all. Rarely though, do I encounter the kind of tidbit that doesn't necessarily conform to these expected categorizations. Those little illuminative nuggets gleaned only via on-site living and traveling, collected through experience or learned from mistakes.

To give you an example of what I mean, let me tell you about the time I visited a place called Carlsbad (modern day Karlovy Vary) in the Czech Republic. In its 19th century heyday, Carlsbad replaced places like Bath in England as a spa playground to which the rich and the aristocratic would travel to for curative rests. It was and still remains famous for its thermal spring waters and because people like Antonín Dvořák once lived there. Lovely to see I was told and I found that statement to be true until drinking the famous healing waters glued me to my unlovely hotel toilet seat for the next two days. No guidebook had thought to mention that it had purgative effects.

If I put my mind to it, I suppose that I could really could go on and on with these kinds of trial-by-fire travel anecdotes. Lord knows I've accumulated some memorable, if embarrassing tales in my years of going places but, there is no need to gross you out unduly and I must move on to today's Leaping Thought Wednesday. I do so hope the powers that be take note of this invaluable and spy-worthy information that is surely unusual to us but not to native Iranians.

A spice and nut merchant at the baazar in Tehran.

1. In Iran, Saturday is Monday and Sunday is Tuesday. People work over the span of our weekend and continue to do so until our Thursday afternoon when they wrap up school and jobs early enough to enjoy their full Friday rest. Yep, only a one day weekend for them after a six day work and school week. The Saturday is called Shambe and every day following Saturday until Thursday is termed as follows - Day one after Saturday, day two after Saturday, day three after Saturday and so on until the Friday which is the only day of the week called differently, Jomeh. So, basically if you know how to count up to five in Farsi, you already know how to say the days of the week.

Shambe - Saturday

Yek (1) Shambe - Sunday

Do (2) Shambe - Monday

Se (3) Shambe - Tuesday

Chahar (4) Shambe - Wednesday

Panj (5) Shambe - Thursday

Jomeh - Friday

Consider this your first lesson in Farsi.

Pretty in pink. Young girl dressed in her school uniform, Isfahan.

Detail of an outside wall mural in the kindergarten next to Aunt Maryam's house.

2. In Iran, the oriental style toilet of a hole in the ground is still prevalent in most households. Modern constructions include western style toilets but they exist in addition to rather than as a substitute for the traditional toilet. For the record, they are not simply holes. The are porcelain-made rectangular openings which are embedded in the ground and sport a water flushing mechanism that one activates with a lever or button in the same way we do with our own toilets. I can tell you that going to the bathroom takes some getting used to because you have to crouch and no matter how much it was touted to me by 'certain' people, I was never completely sold on the ergonomic or colonic benefits of going to the potty this way but, I'm a hardy soul and when in Iran, I do what I gotta do (I hold it in).

3. Cucumbers get eaten like fruit in Iran. Everywhere you go, come mid-morning or mid-afternoon, lovely bowls full of succulent fruit get placed within handy reach. Amongst the peaches, apricots, bananas and cherries there is always the green presence of smallish, rather thin cucumbers which you just bite into skin and all. Some people sprinkle a little salt on theirs but more often than not they're eaten alone.

4. Tea (chai) is constantly and eternally brewing in Persian households. There is always a samovar somewhere in every kitchen, full of hot water and topped by a porcelain teapot where tea leaves get placed or replaced as the need arises. One drinks tea the WHOLE DAY LONG. If you visit someone, the first thing they trot out is the offer for some tea and a tray of sweets. By the way, one does not put sugar in chai. Rather, sugar cubes or rock sugar are offered in small bowls as you get served. Here's what you do: You dip the sugar cube into the piping hot tea long enough to soften it somewhat thanks to the heat and before it melts too much, you pop it into your mouth where every subsequent sip of hot tea wears away at the sweet you hold in the center of your tongue until, it's all gone. I guarantee that if you perform this little trick in front of a Persian, you will impress the socks off of them since foreigners are forever wishing to drop spoonfuls of sugar into tea which they proceed to immediately stir away into nothingness. I know I never waste an opportunity to show off this little bit of insider knowledge. Also, chai gets served only in little see through glasses. There is no such thing as a western style teacup when serving tea properly.

Boxed Persian sweets at a Bakery/Confectionary shop. You can't imagine the variety!

5. Carpets are a big deal in Iran. Really big deal. Surely you've heard of Persian carpets? Well, there's a reason for that. The most beautiful carpets in the world (someone will most likely find it in themselves to dispute this assertion, but I'll stand by my statement) get made in Iran. They are art, family heirlooms, house dress-up pieces. They get handed down from generation to generation and purchased first, sometimes even before the thought of furniture comes into consideration. In a home, the best carpets are placed in the formal areas of the house and in the public dining room (this is for impressing impact), the remainder are exhibited as copiously as space and purchasing power allows. The floor underneath could be dirt really because in terms of flooring, what matters for a Persian is the carpet you are stepping on.

A carpet we purchased gets properly folded for packing and travel.


A decorative detail in our new carpet.

6. This shouldn't surprise you if you ever decide to take a taxi in Iran: You arrive to your destination and you ask your driver how much you owe, he or she (yes, there are female taxi drivers in Iran) will tell you the equivalent of not to worry about it or tell you that it is nothing. Right there you've just been treated to the fine art of taarof. Of course they want to be paid for their time spent in getting you somewhere but, before we can arrive to the point where actual money gets exchanged, there is the compelling need to deny (by the driver) that any monies need to be paid at all. This is not a precursor to haggling mind you, it's just an endemic type of Persian politeness.

A view of the Damavand mountains encircling Tehran. Notice how drivers do not observe lane demarcations. They drive atrociously in Iran. Going out is an exercise in mental fortitude and suppressing the desire to squeak in fright at every near-death driving experience.

Taarof-ing (I've turned it into a verb as you can see) is present daily in many other areas too. For instance:

Would you like to have some more of this delicious cake?

-Nah merci (no, thank you) you reply. But you really do you see. You are dying for another slice and yet, for the sake of politeness and not wanting to seem like a glutton, you are forced to taarof.

-Thank you but no, I'm sure I've had quite enough.

Please, have some. It was newly baked today.

- I'm sure I shouldn't. I've already eaten so much! Now you are only one taarof away from the sweet prize. 3 is the magic number in taarofing practices by the way.

Come on, just a little more, you know it's your favorite. Are you sure you really don't want any?

- Well, maybe yes, I will have a little more, thank you.

And there you have it! A fine example of Taarof if I ever explained one.

For my final informative bit, I will tell you the following:

7. If you travel to Iran, be prepared to deal on a cash basis. Credit cards are not used there. Recently, they've started accepting pre-paid credit cards at certain commercial establishments situated in more western style malls. This implies that you hold a bank account locally and that you pre-pay a credit card from your existing funds. Barring that, everything gets paid with cash. From the stick of bubblegum to the expensive (and real estate is not cheap) apartment homes on the foothills of the Damavand mountains encircling Tehran, it is cash all. the. way. Take it from someone who finds it so much easier to whip out her little bit of plastic, that having to carry around lots of cash ruins the look of my expensive wallet and constantly forces one to worry about the whereabouts of the moolah secreted on their person. If it gets lost or stolen, it's khoda hafez (goodbye) baby, khoda hafez.

Well that concludes this further lesson on Iran. From this Leaping Thought Wednesday to the next, may all your days be full of hot chai, delicious fruits, gorgeous carpets and lots and lots of money. Shab bekheir (goodnight).

I took this photo of a vat full of Zereshk at a fruit merchant's stall. Zereshk is a type of barberry commonly found in Iran and used widely for cooking. It tastes both sweet and tart. Click here for a link that gives you the recipe for Zereshk Polow (Rice with Zereshk). It is a staple of Iranian cuisine and one of my favorite Persian dishes.