Friday October 21, 2011
The Iranian currency is a peculiar beast that all the tourists struggled with for the entire fortnight. At the time of my visit the rate ranged from about 11000 to 12000 Iranian rials to one dollar. A lot of zeroes to deal with! For ease of calculation my travelling companions and I simply called ten thousand rials "one dollar".
Upon my arrival the porter at the hotel fulfilled his duty and without knowing much about hotel tipping levels I asked what him would be an appropriate amount. In broken English he managed to say "1000 rials". After a physically taxing nineteen hour journey and only being in the country for an hour my mental arithmetic was letting me down - how much is 1000 rials? Is that one dollar? Is that ten dollars? Is that ten cents? I started to panic.
Looking in my wallet the choice was made for me. The smallest note I had was 10000 rials. I gave him the note 70% sure that it was one dollar. The porter seemed VERY happy.
As great as I felt that I made the porter's day, I started to stress about how much it was that I actually gave him. Is 10000 rials actually more than I thought it was? Is that why he could barely contain his excitement?
After ten minutes of clumsy calculations my brain satisfied me that I actually did just give him one dollar. Phew!
I was tired from the long flights into Iran but adrenaline dictated that as soon as I put my bags down in the room I head straight out to explore Tehran. The group tour did not begin until the next day - so I picked out Golestan Palace as my target, as it is a major tourist attraction in the capital but not listed in the group tour itinerary.
Friday is a day of rest in the Iranian working week, equivalent to Sunday in western countries. Hence many shops were closed. However there was still plenty of traffic and people out and about and my afternoon walk to Golestan Palace and downtown was a startling preview into the experience we were to embark in the next two weeks. Being quite obviously a foreigner I was stopped or spoken to no less than seven times on the street (all friendly encounters) including:
1. One bloke who stopped on his motorbike to discuss politics with me while I was attempting to cross the road (a feat that requires enough mental energy without the distraction of discussing the merits of President Ahmadinejad's crazy speeches).
2. One female university student who noticed I was lost at Golestan Palace and kindly offered me her assistance in English.
3. Two young (again university age) men who mustered all the English they had to welcome me to Iran and wish me the best on my trip.
4. An electrician working on renovations at Golestan Palace also practising his English and his workmate who offered me a cigarette.
Being a reasonably experienced traveller I was at first suspicious about the motives of the locals who engaged me in dialogue. But it soon became clear Iran does not receive many foreign visitors so the locals were exhibiting genuine curiosity, and that Iranian people by nature are a hospitable bunch. There is also a keen sense of the locals being embarrassed about the image problems their country has and taking their chance to personally rectify misrepresentations. I had never felt so welcome on the first day in a foreign land where I did not speak the local language nor knew any acquaintances.
Not one of the people who spoke to me were trying to sell me anything nor scam me. The warmth of the Iranian people would be a touching motif that would continue for the entire trip.
Golestan Palace was terrific, by the way. The description of it on Wikipedia is far better than what I could provide you and to be honest I'd rather describe the people of Iran...
I arrived back at the hotel at dinner time, thoroughly exhausted. I was determined to have a nice sleep-in before meeting the people who I'd spend the next fortnight with. The mind boggled as to who they are and what they'd be like.
The Iranian currency is a peculiar beast that all the tourists struggled with for the entire fortnight. At the time of my visit the rate ranged from about 11000 to 12000 Iranian rials to one dollar. A lot of zeroes to deal with! For ease of calculation my travelling companions and I simply called ten thousand rials "one dollar".
Upon my arrival the porter at the hotel fulfilled his duty and without knowing much about hotel tipping levels I asked what him would be an appropriate amount. In broken English he managed to say "1000 rials". After a physically taxing nineteen hour journey and only being in the country for an hour my mental arithmetic was letting me down - how much is 1000 rials? Is that one dollar? Is that ten dollars? Is that ten cents? I started to panic.
Looking in my wallet the choice was made for me. The smallest note I had was 10000 rials. I gave him the note 70% sure that it was one dollar. The porter seemed VERY happy.
As great as I felt that I made the porter's day, I started to stress about how much it was that I actually gave him. Is 10000 rials actually more than I thought it was? Is that why he could barely contain his excitement?
After ten minutes of clumsy calculations my brain satisfied me that I actually did just give him one dollar. Phew!
I was tired from the long flights into Iran but adrenaline dictated that as soon as I put my bags down in the room I head straight out to explore Tehran. The group tour did not begin until the next day - so I picked out Golestan Palace as my target, as it is a major tourist attraction in the capital but not listed in the group tour itinerary.
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| Golestan Palace, Tehran |
1. One bloke who stopped on his motorbike to discuss politics with me while I was attempting to cross the road (a feat that requires enough mental energy without the distraction of discussing the merits of President Ahmadinejad's crazy speeches).
2. One female university student who noticed I was lost at Golestan Palace and kindly offered me her assistance in English.
3. Two young (again university age) men who mustered all the English they had to welcome me to Iran and wish me the best on my trip.
4. An electrician working on renovations at Golestan Palace also practising his English and his workmate who offered me a cigarette.
Being a reasonably experienced traveller I was at first suspicious about the motives of the locals who engaged me in dialogue. But it soon became clear Iran does not receive many foreign visitors so the locals were exhibiting genuine curiosity, and that Iranian people by nature are a hospitable bunch. There is also a keen sense of the locals being embarrassed about the image problems their country has and taking their chance to personally rectify misrepresentations. I had never felt so welcome on the first day in a foreign land where I did not speak the local language nor knew any acquaintances.
Not one of the people who spoke to me were trying to sell me anything nor scam me. The warmth of the Iranian people would be a touching motif that would continue for the entire trip.
Golestan Palace was terrific, by the way. The description of it on Wikipedia is far better than what I could provide you and to be honest I'd rather describe the people of Iran...
I arrived back at the hotel at dinner time, thoroughly exhausted. I was determined to have a nice sleep-in before meeting the people who I'd spend the next fortnight with. The mind boggled as to who they are and what they'd be like.
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