TABRIZ 11.07.2010

TABRIZ 11.07.2010

I woke up early in the Jahan Nama Hotel because it was no longer possible to sleep. The hotel was on the street and the sunlight entered the room directly.  There was no air conditioner and also lots of noise from the traffic. I looked for a tea house.  Iran is one country where finding one will need little effort. I found a tea house that close from my hotel that you can smoke hookah at the same place..

The people of Tabriz call it “galeyan”; we call it “Nargile” in Turkish.  It could be called “ebullition” in English.  As I sat on the wooden couch of the tea house, a few local customers came to my table to get to know me.  They were addressing each other as "Ağa Can".  I will not be able to find a suitable English equivalent for the word as the word “Mr” does not suffice.  "Ağa"  also includes the idea of  “elder”.  “Can” refers to many more words such as: life, darling, soul, heart and more.

As seen everywhere in Iran, the symbolic depiction of “Ali” who Prophet Muhammad’s groom, hangs on the wall in the remarkable point.  It is really a common symbol for Iran which has the largest Shia population in the Islamic world.

But the tea house owner proudly pointed out a picture to me that hung on the  wall.  He said, “Setterhan”.  “Setterhan” was  an Azerbaijani Turk and launcher of the constitutionalism move between 1904 -1910 in Iran.  According to some he was killed in an ambush by Iranian authorities. His name still lives on among Azeri Turks as a legend.

I went to the Tabriz bazaar to wander and afterwards I bought a train ticket to Tehran which cost 17 dollars.

Tabriz Grand Bazaar is a typical Middle Eastern indoor shopping market in the city.  You can see many items there ranging from food, clothing to supply devices.  The Crystal sugar was different as you can buy them in a mould in either white or yellow.

I entered a carpet shop.  The shop owner and I spoke about my journey and served me a cup of tea and I noted that Turkish singers and other aspects of Turkish culture are well known. 

I drank a few cups of tea at one of the tea houses in the Grand Bazaar.  The man who sat next to me signalled the owner with his eyes without taking a break from smoking “Galeyan”.  I didn’t pay for the tea; in fact he paid with his eyes, quickly.  That presentation was just a traditional service for them.

Carriers were waiting to get work on the streets …

I entered a bank to exchange some money.  The bank consultant recommended that I should change the money in the street – which I did.

It was very hot on the street when I went out into the sun without protection, and moisture loss happened fast. I drank plenty of juices when I found juice shops. One interesting juice was “Talibi” a drink made of melon juice and common in summer in Iran.

After so much walking in Tabriz street and at the bazaar, I felt hungry. I looked around in search of a restaurant on the main street. I found one that had a staircase which led one to below ground level.  A restaurant at that level was interesting since I have not come across such places in Turkey.  When there was no natural lighting, it turned into a night club with its electrical light.

I ordered soup which I will drink.  The waiter told me to “wait” using an Azeri pronunciation "eyleşin".

The waiter brought "lavaş" pitta bread, salad made of yoghurt spread over lettuce, carrots and green herbs.  The barley soup tasted good.  The main meal consisted of a pat of butter over cooked rice, a kind of beef shish kebab, “chelow kebab” and cooked tomatoes, peppers and chopped onion. .. even Coca cola…wow… I hadn’t hoped to the product of an American company in Iran – surprise.  After the meal I drank a cup of tea. The meal cost 7500 toman which is about 7.5 dollars.

I often went into the juice houses in the July heat.  Melon water “talibi” helped me to feel better for the remainder of the last day in Tabriz.

 I was at the train station to go to Tehran. 

I could not go to Kendovan . For that , it was required one day more that i should stay in Tabriz

A conductor was waiting to usher passengers to their booked seats.  I took a photo of him with his frilly and coloured uniform because I might not easily encounter such a service person everytime.

The conductor  gave us the cake,  tea,  water   included  the train ticket price. 

This guy is Azerbaijani Turk.. He name is Ferhat. We spoke about Shahriar's  "Khan Nana" poem.. Ferhat sent "Khan Nana"  poem to my phone via wireless. Shahriar's poem had been recorded  and  I listened to his poem from his own voice. Shahriar's poem is very emotional... His poem  is   about his chıldhood memories  of his grandmother and his own. 
 The soul of poem was not foreign to me at all...