A Day at Aunt Minoo’s

Waking up at Aunt Minoo’s house, Samira had made breakfast for us. We had some eggs and the traditional bread and cheese. Elmira and Arsalan were studying for their final examinations, and I had a chance to catch up with each of them. Samira and I went to the local coffee net where I had a chance to catch up on email and help Samira set up her new email account. My parents were at my Aunt Farzaneh’s house and called us to say that one of my Mom’s distant relatives was there and wanted to meet Samira. This poor girl constantly gets marriage proposals and other such offers but really has no interest in such things right now. Out of respect for family, Samira and I took a cab to Aunt Farzaneh’s house to drop me off and also meet this man that was looking for someone for his son. She stayed for a short while, and then went home to get ready to take me and my Dad out.

Samira came and picked us up in a taxi, and we went to meet Nadir, her friend, at his university. This campus was interesting because it was on the back end of the former Shah’s old palace. Shah Mohammad Reza was the former ruler of Iran until the revolution in 1978. This, his main palace, was turned into a museum and is now used as a tourist attraction. Some of the buildings of Nadir’s university were Prince Reza’s old playground and private school grounds and laboratory. The swing set he used to play on as a kid was still right there in the middle of the school grounds.

The university was hosting a cultural festival on its campus that had gone on for the last few days, and this was the last day. They had booths all over the courtyard representing different ethnicities that live in Iran. Iran is a very multi-cultural country. Having enveloped many countries during the reigns of some of its foreign kings and having been invaded by many foreign leaders has led to a very colorful cultural landscape. Besides the Fars (what are considered true Persians hailing from the province of Fars in Southern Iran), Turks, Kurds, Afghanis, Lors, Baluchis, Pakistanis, Arabs, and ethnicities from many of the former Soviet states bordering Iran call this country home. Each has its own unique language or dialect, tradition, clothing, culture, music, and, most importantly, dances.

After taking in the festival for a couple of hours, we all headed to Darband, an area at the foot of the mountains known for its restaurants and tea houses. On the way there, we stopped at a small shop called Ab-Anar-e Mohammad (Mohammad’s Pomegranate Juice). This place satisfies the Persian taste for all things sour. Sour trumps sweet as the official flavor of Iran. You can get a variety of sour tasting juices like pomegranate or barberry. They also have Pomegranate ice cream, slushies, concentrate, and fruit roll ups. Nadir told us the story of this guy Mohammad who started this business, which is now a franchise all over the city with units selling for $200,000 (no typo, franchises are expensive here). He started out selling water in the city of Abadan and raised enough money to buy a truck. He moved to Tehran and started selling pomegranates out of the back of this truck. After a while, he got enough money together to start one of these stands. Now, this guy that has a fifth grade education is a multimillionaire.

We made our way to Darband after the sour treats. Darband parking at the foot of the mountain, we walked up the road amidst the tea houses and shops that lined the path. The newer restaurants they have built here are absolutely breathtaking. Each one has multilevel outdoor and indoor seating and is carved into the surrounding mountain. The older tea houses and restaurants are still intact and have some of the same appeal. The tea houses are called ghahveh khooneh in Persian, which is actually a misnomer. Ghahveh khooneh actually means coffee house. It turns out that for centuries, Iranians enjoyed coffee over tea. It has only been about a century that the culture has turned to tea. Now, tea is so engrained in the Persian culture that anyone who drinks coffee is accused of being “Westernized”.

We finally stopped at one of the tea houses and picked a deck next to the flowing water. The sound of this river was overpowering. We ordered a hookah and some tea and enjoyed the weather, which was rather chilly that night, the ambiance, and the company. We then made our way down the mountain and went to get some dinner at a burger joint called Bobby Sands. Persians eat dinner rather late, and it was about 11 pm by the time we got to this stand. We got four burgers and ate them in the car since this place had no seating. It was like one of those pizza joints that just serve out the window onto the street. The name of the place, Bobby Sands, sounds familiar, but I just can’t place it. Since the day was winding down rather quickly, we decided to head home.