Webike 2018: Fighting Iranian bureaucracy with Siavash in Esfehan

30 April - 4 May

There are apart from sightseeing and recovering from a light traveler’s diarrhea two other activities on the program: Extension of our visa and registration of my iPhone.

With respect to the latter I have already given up any hope, but Siavash, our host in Esfehan, has repeatedly told me that I should relax and not worry. He will fix it for me.

Siavash, our superhero in Esfehan visiting a botanical garden

We are accommodated in an empty (but furnitured) apartment, one stock lower than where Siavash lives with his parents. It is huge and there is plenty of room for a big family. The first full day in Esfehan Siavash and I give the iPhone registration a try. Martin remains in the apartment, that has two toilets, which is just enough. We head for the customs office near the foreigner police office and find it closed. It has moved. 5 phone calls later Siavash has figured out that the new office is right at the other side of town (and Esfehan is a 1 million plus city). After a lot of traffic chaos and parking problems we arrive in a very small office that is cramped with people that have the latest version of the Samsung and other smartphones with them. The temperature has raised to the boiling point and I do not look forward to lining there (imagine the people that have to work there). However, with the life long experience of an Iranian, Siavash manages to speak directly with one of the officers and after a long discussion he figures out that it is better to go to the custom’s office at the airport, which is again in a totally different part of town. We drive to the airport and I am not allowed into the custom’s area, so I wait in the hall for an hour or so. Shiavash comes back and tells me that registration is not possible because it should have been done two weeks ago. He is convinced that the custom’s officers are lying and comes up with two solutions: He will give me an old smart phone which I can use, or he tries to register the phone via internet, which we already tried in vain 4 weeks ago. He clearly feels challenged to give the internet registration a try, so we return to the apartment. When we visit him and his parents a few hours later, he figures out that he needs to know the ID data of the owner of the SIM card. So, we call Ali, our first host in Shiraz, who bought the SIM card for me using his wife’s name. Once we have the data it is simple and Siavash answers all the questions, transfers the money (100 dollar!) and then we have a registered iphone. UNBELIEVABLE!!! What is also unbelievable is that the iphone is registered in combination with the SIM card. When I would decide to change the SIM card, the entire procedure, inclusive 100$ payment needs to be repeated. Note that a new SIM card costs only 2 Euro. It feels like an Iranian customs’ revenge action, to compensate for all the lost VAT of smuggled smartphones in the past.

Then we undertake our next mission, visa extension. The timing is critical. The day before (Wednesday) is a religious holiday and the day after is a Friday (all offices closed). On Saturday the visa is already expired. We therefore have to make sure that we prepare the visa extension already on Tuesday. So we go out to take a picture of Karin-wearing-an-official-hijab (and we really had to look long before we identified a portrait photographer who also had the equipment to print the photos) and to make copies of the passport pages where the customs have stamped.

WANTED...

On after-holiday-days people in government offices are obliged to participate in after-holidays-prayers, so the start on these days is very slow. We enter the office (myself wrapped in full chador, I could without problems perform in ‘Phantom of the Opera’) at around 7:30 to ensure that we arrive before the majority of Afghan refugees arrive under guard of armed police. However, at 7:30 the first police officer doesn’t look as if he is willing to do anything, but friendly insistence makes him move his bud so we can make the first step in the process. We are sent to an office for copies (they didn’t want to have ours) and after filling out the same form twice we end up at a bank card machine where we pay for our visa. Does this mean we get our visa extension? Already that quickly? We are not yet in the police office an hour, this can’t be true. For unknown reasons, however, we have to go to a couple of other offices and in the last one there is complete apathy. Everyone has just returned from a super tiring prayer session, the prayers being loudly broadcasted throughout the entire office, so it is time to hang around, drink tea and make jokes. If we could please come back three days later to get the stamped visa extensions. This however is, as we already know from other travelers’ experiences the usual procedure and polite insisting is the way to accelerate the procedure. Siavash is extremely good at this and we are sent away with the message that we should return at 11 am and maybe, inshallah, the passports are stamped by that time.

We use this time very well by visiting a super beautiful botanic garden and have breakfast and when we return to the police office we have to wait another 45 min and then we have our extensions and yes indeed, for 1 month. Hip hip hurrah!!!

We stay 6 days in Esfehan, recover from our diarrhea, accept invitations from Siavash’s parents for a diner and get-togethers with their huge family (they both have around 10 brothers and sisters, imagine how many cousins Siavash must have) and visit the town. We even drunk some illegal, home made Shiraz wine 😊

Pleasant evenings with Shiavash's family. Shiavash playing the guitar and his niece singing

On the last evening we untangle a misunderstanding about a taxi service that Siavash has ordered and appears to be 10x more expensive than we thought (Toman-Rial confusion). The taxi driver on his side has misunderstood the destination (5x as far as we requested), so the final solution is brought by Siavash’s father, who offers to bring us outside of Esfehan. In an attempt to pay him for the taxi service (of course any payment is refused because we are their guests) we exchange some Euro’s for an under-the market-rate. They are collecting Euro’s for Siavash’s plan to move to Europe and continue studying there. Shiavash’s father brings us outside of Esfehan the next morning. Fortunately, he is, like his son, a moderate driver and we are safely delivered at the boarder of the desert to continue our bike ride.

Below some impressions from our stay in Esfehan, which according to Iranians, is ‘Half the World’.

Esfehan's central square (Imam Square or Naqsh-e Jahan Square) is enormous and harbors apart from a pond with fountains two Mosques and a royal palace. The complete bazar is hidden in the buildings surrounding the square. This includes numerous handy craft and nougat shops, restaurants and cafes and ice cream shops. Especially in the evening the square is crowded and lively.

Traditional coffee shop/restaurant in the bazar. Mind the ceiling from which innumerous tea pots are hanging down

Asht being prepared in the bazar the day before an important religious holiday

A small square in the bazar

Hidden in a park behind the Imam Square we find the beautiful Hasht Behesht Palace

Armenian Quarter and Vank Cathedral: One day we bike to the Armenian Quarter, known as Jolfa. This quarter was established back in the beginning of the 17th century when a Safavid Shah ordered the settlement of Armenian families from the Kaukasus in Esfehan to ensure their skills in silk trading remained in Safavid hands. Nowadays, despite the Islamic government, there is still an Armenian community in Esfehan and with a very well preserved Cathedral. We first strolled around in the garden and the museum where a lot of attention is paid to the genocide committed in Armenia by the Turkish government between 1915 and 1917. Then we enter the (very small) cathedral and we are completely flabbergasted by the rich and colorful paintings. Some of them remind us of Hieronymus Bosch paintings. It may be though that indeed a Dutch artist, van Sichem, has contributed to the paintings.

In the neighborhood we also visit a so-called pigeon tower. We wonder what these towers are for. In Amsterdam everyone is trying his best to limit the amount of pigeons whereas in Esfehan they used to give them a home, deliberately? The reason is that these towers and there doves were used as fertilizer producer. Yes, indeed, they were interested in the shit that we want to get rid of in Amsterdam. As always I am most impressed by the geometric patterns of the building.

Esfehan's bridges: Esfehan used to be famous for its multi-storey bridges over the Zayandeh river. Nowadays the view on the bridges has lost its magic because there is no water in the river anymore. When walking through the parks along the Zayandeh river one can easily see how beautiful the scenery must have been. The parks extend into the river bed with small peninsula's covered in roses. Young couples used to rent water bikes and boats and people came to sing under the bridges where the acoustics are particularly good. This is what a small group of men is doing when we pass by. But not for long. The police comes to stop them. Iranian police don't like gatherings of people....