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Posts Tagged ‘Esfahan’

When I visit Iran my camera is with me everywhere I go. I take thousands of photos but I am definitely a snapper and not a semi-pro and my camera is a very basic point-and-shoot model. I take photos so I don’t forget my experiences and  they are not necessarily well-planned or thought out-just taken ad-hoc when I want to capture an experience, or a memory. Going through some of my photos I realise that many of them won’t be seen by anyone else as they don’t match anything I write about; they are odds-and-ends collected during the course of a day’s roaming.

Here’s just a small collection which you might find interesting;

The village baker at work-fresh bread 3 times a day

The village baker at work-fresh bread 3 times a day

Engagement/Wedding dresses

Engagement/Wedding dresses

Very old vinegar vats

Very old vinegar vats

The gold quarter

The gold quarter

Cuddly toys

Cuddly toys

Even Shaun the Sheep is big in Iran!

Even Shaun the Sheep is big in Iran!

Work in progress

Work in progress

More gold

More gold

Road to nowhere!

Road to nowhere!
More dresses

More dresses

Spring chickens!

Spring chickens!

Inside a pigeon tower

Inside a pigeon tower

Congregational mosque Esfahan

Congregational mosque Esfahan

Three wise men!

Three wise men!

Abyaneh-dresses for sale

Abyaneh-dresses for sale

Sexy underwear.....ladies only!

Sexy underwear…..ladies only!

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Mosaic of Ali Qapu-Esfahan Bazaar


With 52 rooms spread over 6 floors, the Ali Qapu Palace in Esfahan is sometimes known as the first Iranian skyscraper and when you consider that it was completed in the 17th Century, that’s pretty impressive. It sits on the east side of Naqsh-e Jahan Square almost directly opposite the Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque and  overlooks the beautiful landscaped gardens and fountains.

The Palace has performed a number of functions over the years at some point being administrative headquarters whilst at the same time housing the Shah’s private bedrooms and acting as a buffer between the public square and the royal harem. The Palace was also considered lavish and sufficiently ornate enough to welcome visiting dignitaries, ambassadors and heads of state and even now you can see why.

The entrance door is more than 5m high  and whilst the first 2 stories have been ravaged by vandals in the immediate aftermath of the Islāmic Revolution, it is not difficult to imagine how startling this building must have been in its hey-day.

I am no engineer, but it is the examples of practical engineering found upstairs that impress me most.

View of Naqsh-e Jahan Square from Ali Qapu verandah

View of Naqsh-e Jahan Square from Ali Qapu verandah

Climbing the steps to the third floor you step on the verandah which is not only beautiful itself, but has the most magnificent view across the square. It is simply breathtaking. The verandah is 28m long and 16m wide and the wooden ceiling is beautifully decorated. The verandah is supported by 18 columns each carved from the trunk of a plane tree and which were originally covered in mirrors.

Ali Qapu verandah painted ceiling

Ali Qapu verandah painted ceiling & carved wooden column

You would never dream of finding a pool on the third story of a building, but here not only will you find a pool but also a fountain. The pool was filled by hydraulic machines which brought the water up from ground level. Ingenious!

The palace is full of lovely paintings and murals and some of the decoration which has been preserved will take your breath away but my favourite room in this building is the Music Chamber.

If you love  music then the Music Chamber on the upper story of the Ali Qapu Palace will both surprise, delight and amaze you.

Music and poetry have always been important to the Persians and here you will find what could be called one of the earliest Dolby stereo systems. Elaborately carved out of stucco work and at 400 years old, it is impressive.

As already mentioned, the Music Chamber is on the upper floor. The musician’s quarters however are on the ground floor. The Shah sat on a platform in the Music Chamber listening to the music whilst watching parades and celebrations in the square.

Stucco carvings Music Chamber Ali Qapu

Stucco carvings Music Chamber Ali Qapu

Stucco carvings Music Chamber Ali Qapu

Stucco carvings Music Chamber Ali Qapu

Stucco carvings Music Chamber Ali Qapu

Stucco carvings Music Chamber Ali Qapu

Stucco carvings Music Chamber Ali Qapu

Stucco carvings Music Chamber Ali Qapu

So how was this achieved without blaring out music at uncomfortable decibels?  It is all in the design of the building which meant that the music travelled from the ground floor up to the Shah’s Music Chamber by way of the hollow columns built into the walls and was then transmitted around the Music Chamber through carvings in the plaster. The carvings were designed to create echoes and thus improve the sound quality of the music. Sadly we weren’t able to test this theory out but I have no doubt that like the rest of the engineering, it works perfectly!

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“From little acorns big oaks grow” is a traditional saying and I am hoping that my series of musings about my travels in Iran which are now being published in our little village magazine will go some way to illustrating an Iran much removed from the politics and sanctions dominating the news,  instead focussing on the “real” Iran and its wonderful people.

I never fail to be amazed by comments I receive about my writing however mundane I feel it is. It is important to describe and explain how people live in Iran even if my observations are based on a small rural/urban population around Esfahan. I cannot and will not pretend that my experiences of traveling in Iran are representative of the population. They cannot possibly be so with a country the size of Iran but I hope that I can give comfort to readers that Iranian people are just like us. They have families, jobs, go on holiday, eat and drink, enjoy themselves. They are not all extreme political or religious animals. They are normal. Just like us.

Let’s hope that by writing about my experiences, more people will begin to understand and appreciate the Iran not publicised by the western media.

Fingers crossed.

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Iranian teahouses (Chai-Khaneh) are traditionally men-only hideaways where they can sit and drink tea (chai) all day and well into the night. My favourite teahouse (subject to my comments below)  is the Azadegan Teahouse near the Naqsh-e-Jahan Square where women are allowed albeit in the family area only. I am not allowed to venture beyond the dividing curtain and smoke Hubble-Bubble.

Not being a Hubble-Bubble smoker, I like this place because of its unique ambiance and fun decoration which is over-the-top to say the least. The place is crammed full of lamps and pictures, pots, mirrors and ephemera of all kinds. A bohemian cave if ever there was one.

There is a prominent sign saying “No Photographs” and normally I’m happy to respect their wishes and oblige. But as everyone else was taking pictures and I wasn’t offending anyone I took a few for posterity.

 Back to my comments above. Previous visits to this teahouse have been charming but this time I have to say that the toilets were rank, and the waiter fair threw the tray of tea and naabot at us. He may just have been having a “bad hair day” but it spoilt my visit. He also charged us for something we didn’t ask for and didn’t eat (Baklava) which represented £1.20 out of a total bill of £1.60!  But at those prices it seemed incredibly churlish to complain so Feri paid up in full and we left vowing never to return! (of course we will.) It is very out of character for the Iranians to be so surly and unhelpful. From my experience, they are not rude or impatient at all but are more than happy to pander to your custom.

For me, I’m quite happy to make my way past chickens in wire pens, and huge vinegar vats to get to this teahouse hidden in the corner (and you certainly wouldn’t find it if you didn’t already know it was there) and I’m sure that like Arnie, ” we will be back”.

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Exploring the bazaar in Esfahan is one of my favourite pursuits and I never tire of idly roaming from seller to seller passing by the rhythmic hammering of the copper beaters and sawdust covered  furniture makers as we make our way towards the Bazaareh Advieh Furushaan-the spices.

The hammering and sawing noises fade as we catch our first peppery wafts of the herbs and spices (advieh). The fragrance is overwhelming and the ground and chopped produce displayed so beautifully that you can’t help but want to photograph the colourful mounds.

As well as being sold separately a selection of seven spices (haft-advieh) is sold together to create the Persian spice mix which makes Persian stews (khoresht) and rice (pollo) dishes so tempting. It is a collection of  heady and pungent flavours which varies between regions but can include black pepper, cinnamon, saffron, nutmeg, cumin, cardamom, and ginger.

And it not only looks good, it tastes great.

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Reading another post from PeaceofIran this morning brought to mind some of my first encounters with Iranian cooking pots. This may sound a little strange but as you have probably gathered I loathe cooking, and entertaining more than 2 people at once gives me nightmares. So when I see industrial-sized cooking pots stacked up in the kitchen it gets me worried.

Why on earth would I need a pot THAT BIG?  You invited HOW MANY?

Before meeting Feri and his family in Iran, and before touring the Bazaareh Mesgaran (literally the copper market) in Esfahan, the only pots and pans I had seen close to this size were at school and in hospital. That made sense to me. They have a lot of people to feed, but coming from a small family where entertaining was never top of the agenda, these pans did, and still do give me the heebie-jeebies.

I was slightly reassured by Feri’s last purchase in Sede before coming home.

A “baby” rice pot. Now that’s more my size.

 

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As you would expect, the Holy Shrine in Abyaneh has rooms and facilities to enable people to pray during their visit should they wish to do so.

Helpfully, there is not only an arrow on the wall pointing to Mecca, but the mats are also placed in position facing towards the Holy City so that the prayer or worship ritual of salah can be carried out. Salah is usually performed 3 times a day by Shia muslims;

Morning – Fajr

Midday-Zuhr/Afternoon-Asr -carried out together

Evening- Maghrib/Night/darkness- Isha-carried out together 

 

Here we have a prayer mat and Jaa_namaz- which is what the prayer stone, beads and copy of the Q’ran is wrapped in.

Islamic Rosary or prayer beads- with either 33 0r 99 beads and known as Tasbih 

Prayer stone- An embossed clay tablet  used by Shi’ite Muslims. Known as a Mohr (Seal) or Turbah (Arabic) Turbet (Farsi)

These are my lovely string of amethyst (my birthstone) prayer beads which I bought in Esfahan.

 

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(Continued)

As well as enjoying the sunshine and appreciating the history and grandeur of Sarteep House, we soon learned that there were connections between the House and Feri’s family which Feri did not know about.  

Some Ashrafi family background will help to explain the connections.

Heidar Ali Ashrafi (19xx-1980)

Feri’s father Heidar Ali Ashrafi, started his working life in management at a sugar factory in Esfahan. Keen to help his local community and passionate about politics it wasn’t long before he was elected Councillor, a member of the Anjoman-e Shar, (Town Council) in Sede, his home town. He was subsequently elected Mayor and served three terms in Sede. He was also the Mayor of Tiran, Rehnan and Mubarakhe and we still have the orders from the Ministry of the Interior commanding him to take up his Mayorships.  

Heidar was determined to improve the living and working conditions for the people of Sede and he was renowned for being a very active  and “hands-on” Mayor. During his Mayorship, irrigation systems through the town to the local orchards were vastly improved and proper sewerage systems were introduced; the main roads were tarmaced for the first time and he created two town squares at each end of town to welcome people into Sede from Esfahan and Tehran. These works are still in evidence today and are an amazing legacy for the community.

Heidar was still in office as Mayor in February 1979 when the Revolution took place but was deposed soon after and put under House Arrest. Sadly, he died in unexplained circumstances some 9 months later.

 Heidar Ashrafi is still remembered by the community with a great deal of respect and fondness for his vision, passion and generosity and we never visit the town without someone, somewhere taking time to tell us.

Feri’s grandfather, Mohamad Ashrafi, was a very experienced theologian and lawyer and became the Head of the Ministry of Justice of Esfahan Province. This was in the days before jury’s were introduced and he was responsible for passing judgement and sentences on those brought before him who had committed less serious crimes. If he was faced with a murder case or more serious crime, he would call upon the Council of Guardians of the town who would meet at Sarteep’s House for deliberation and final judgement.

 

This is the same room in which those meetings took place and we stood quietly thinking about Feri’s grandfather sitting on these steps deliberating with his fellow judges all those years ago. Feri had never seen this room before and didn’t know that his grandfather had been there before him but hopefully it has spurred him on to find out more about his fascinating family history.

Feri came to the UK to study when he was 19 years old. His father and his two elder brothers died during this period and he did not return to Iran for the next 22 years.  There are still gaps in his knowledge and understanding about what happened to his family but we are gradually finding the missing pieces which we hope will complete the jigsaw.

Dr Amini 

 

During our visit we saw three other visitors at the house. Two were walking round with filming equipment and the third walked towards us. The guide introduced Feri to Dr Amini. Feri didn’t flinch but clearly recognising the Ashrafi name and after asking a couple of questions about Feri’s father, Dr Amini introduced himself as Feri’s junior school teacher. It was a particularly emotional moment and I was quite choked as the two men embraced.

Dr Amini spoke very highly of Heider Ashrafi, remembering much about his achievements whilst Mayor of Sede. He turned to Sethari, Feri’s niece and told her how proud she should be of her grandfather and her ancestry as well as the legacies he left for the town.  I know that she is proud of her family roots and she appreciates the respect and warmth which clearly still exists for her grandfather, but to hear this from an eminent historian now working for the equivalent of UK’s National Trust was quite overwhelming and it brought home to me what the Ashrafi name still stands for in Sede and in many ways why I have been made so welcome in the town.

When Feri and Dr Amini finished talking, Dr Amini left for an interview with a local TV station about Sarteep House, and we completed our tour of the house somewhat subdued and stunned by the morning’s events. Before we left, the guide explained that the Trustees of Sarteep House want to add a model of Feri’s father to their collection along with his Biography and would we be able to help with putting something together.

I’m sure that we can, but I have said that we will commission the “Madame Tussaud’s” model…….

 

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Sede, like many Iranian towns, has grown up and expanded around what is known as “old town” and I love the cracked mud and straw walls and buildings that still stand and evoke such a sense of history. Old town to me means dusty narrow streets, high walls and perhaps a tethered donkey or two watching the world go by. Nothing like “new town” with modern shops, 24-hour lighting and numerous cars “peeping” you out of their way.

When Feri’s sister suggested that we visit the Sarteep’s House in old town on our final Saturday I assumed that the site would be somewhat like an archaeological dig and there would not be much to see. In my ignorance not knowing what a Sarteep is I was not entirely convinced that this was how I wanted to spend my precious morning but gladly trusting her judgement I was more than pleasantly surprised when we arrived.

Surprised indeed I was, but it began to make sense when Feri explained that we were here to see “Sarteep’s” House, and not, as I thought, MR Sarteepi’s House. Big Difference as I soon discovered.

 “Sarteep” is a rank higher than Colonel in the Iranian Army, and 200 or so years ago a Sedehi was Sarteep during the reign of Naser-Odin Shah (King Naser) a good friend and ally of Britain. Whilst serving as Sarteep/Chief of Staff this Sedehi became very good friends with Zelle Sultan the Governor General of Esfahan and son of King Naser who often came to stay with the Sarteep in Sede. The Royal family stayed with the Sarteep’s family for long periods to the extent that the once modest house in Sede was upgraded substantially to Royal standards and much of the redesigned splendour remains today as we were privileged to see.

 

The house and substantial gardens are divided into private and official apartments and we started our tour with the private rooms and living quarters. Most of the rooms have glass cabinets filled with exhibits relating to the house and it took us some time to visit all the rooms whilst my husband translated the information cards.  

One of the most fascinating buildings for me was the baths and considering that these were designed and used more than 200 years ago, the facilities are impressive and I’m sure that the bathing and personal habits of the Persians at this point in history were far in advance of us in the West. I could be mistaken but I haven’t seen anything like these communal family facilities anywhere else but I’m happy to be proven wrong.

The resident guide was extremely kind and very helpful and fetching his big bunch of keys, unlocked the baths especially for us. I had to bend down to enter through the low-hung door and was surprised to see how large the bathing area is. Apparently, the families and their attendants were a large group who often bathed together and this explains why the bathing area is much bigger than I expected.

In addition to the hot bath which has a reinforced area under which a fire was lit to heat the water continuously, there is a smaller cold bath adjacent where bathers could cool down if necessary. (An early version of a plunge pool springs to mind.) The guide also told us that bathers were soaped down and rinsed off by their attendants in the central bath area then, unless they had further personal hygiene matters to see to, would sit and relax in the warm surroundings probably drinking tea and reciting poetry.

 

Most of the larger recesses and platforms carved out of the wall around the central rest area were for relaxing and socialising but I found out that one of the compartments was reserved for hair removal. Apparently, both men and women would be covered with a hair removal linament (17thC Veet) which would remove the body hair. I find it fascinating to think that they were so organised to have a designated area to carry out this procedure at home although I understand that this procedure was also carried out in public baths and maybe still is! I’m not about to find out either.

When we had finished our tour of the baths, the guide asked me what I thought of them. I explained that I was really impressed by the facilities and functionality of the baths but not surprised due to my previous knowledge and experience of Persian culture and he laughed. Why did he laugh?

He laughed because a tourist from a North European country, which shall remain nameless, had been surprised, nay, amazed that the Persians had baths 200 years ago. He didn’t realise that these Middle Eastern “savages” even washed!

How sad.

To be continued.

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The Armenian Christian sector of Esfahan is still a thriving community albeit much depleted from the mid-1960’s when the population reached approximately 100,000. Not many people realise that a Christian area exists in the predominantly Muslim city and it is in the section known as Julfa south of the Zayande Rud river that you will find the 13 remaining churches out of the original 30 or so. Cathedrals and Mosques do go together despite what many people believe.

Only yesterday I was talking about my Iranian adventures when someone asked if Westerners are still allowed into Iran and he was surprised when I explained that although I didn’t see many Westerners where I went, I have no problems whatsoever in entering the country and in fact, am welcomed wherever I go. Such is the lack of understanding and power of adverse media coverage that many people have completely the wrong idea of the situation in Iran which I find very sad.

The All Saviour’s (Vank) Cathedral is spectacular and an amazing visual feast of religious murals, gold decor and superb architecture together with a selection of ancient artefacts and historical information in the Cathedral museum.

In the midst of all the family celebrations and visiting relatives it was lovely to find a haven of peace and serenity in the almost deserted church and its grounds and I could have spent hours sitting on a bench looking at the frescos and murals trying to take in the exquisite detail.

The museum is fascinating but sadly no photos are allowed and postcards and guidebooks of the cathedral and exhibits are almost non-existent. I did however manage to take some pictures of the external features and I found a photo DVD (Studio Par) with some beautiful images of the popular scenes.

Enjoy.

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