Day 116 (Iran): Tehran

It is Friday, meaning the city is empty. For the most part and as emtpy as Tehran can be. It is also the day that a parking garage in Tehran gets converted into a bazaar. It is not the grand bazaar (which is much, much bigger and pictures of which will appear in the not to distant future), but has become popular among parts of the population as there is no need to travel all the way to the real bazaar which can be a bit unwieldy in many ways. Isabelle and Andrea are about to leave Tehran for good (or maybe not, it’s a bit complicated), so the contingency planning involved a trip there and some potential last minute shopping. The place was a zoo, albeit an interesting one. Tons of second-hand ware and certainly for someone like me it was a place to refresh very old memories and look at things that my parents would have had when first putting together a household (or maybe their parents in the case of the sowing machine below). My apologies for the poor picture quality, it was a bit dark in the bazaar and I didn’t want to use the flash.

There were also beautiful pieces of cloth and of course carpets.

We ended up with loads of stuff … a big chest, some camel box covers, some cushions and lots of little things … but the best item I saw was this record player - check out the record on the left hand side (it is certainly not permitted here, but then again there is so much around that is prohibited).

Strange kind of situation when we arrived back home - the taxi driver was clearly overcharging and Isabelle insisted on a lower price at which point the taxi driver made to give the money back. Isabelle slipped past me into the entrance and the taxi driver was trying to push his way towards the door where I was standing. Slight standoff. He wanted to give the money back, feigning insult. Isabelle grabbed it then - me in the middle with the guy pushing me from behind. It is a rather clear rule that he can not enter a house or apartment and that this could spell big trouble for him. He did of course not want to give the money back. I had enough at one point and yelled at him, which didn’t help. I was loaded down and couldn’t really do much if I didn’t want to let him pass. He eventually relented. Never seen anything like this … and neither had Isabelle.In the afternoon I met up with another couchsurfer for another conversation which was ultimately too short as G. had to leave due to an emergency at home. Nevertheless, an interesting conversation ensued about life and society in Iran.