Iran Day 3

Day 3 - 12th November 2018

“This is going to be a very long day,” warned Adrian the night before. “We will need to have breakfast at 7:30am and gather to set off at 8am to travel to an ancient village Abyaneh in the mountain, and then we will need to rush to one place which does not allow tripod, and after that rush to another place that allows tripod, and only after dinner will you see your hotel. So rest well, guys.”

He was right.

The VIDEO




Mad rush. But we guai guai kept to the timing. Almost.



The village of Abyaneh at 1400m altitude.

The weather turned cooler as the coach ascended to 1200m and then to 1400m. Abyaneh dates back to 500BC, which was during the Achaemenid empire ruled by Cyrus the Great when the religion was still Zoroastrianism. Here they still preserve their Abyaneh dialect and customs.

Here is the brochure of all the information of Abyaneh that we gotten from the guide.

“Ok we shall climb up to that hill across the stream to take a shot of the whole village from that vantage point and then we will explore the village,” instructed Adrian. “But we have very little time, only one and a half hour. So you all got to follow tight.”

The climb up to the hill was of quite a significant gradient, but that was good training, I felt. It was misty and the encroaching mist have the village a sleepy dreamy feel, from where we stood overlooking it.

Coming back to the village we were once again transformed into a period during the Ilkanate. Abyaneh is still an actively lived-in village, although it has been listed into Iran’s National Monument. The villagers who are still living here are mainly the older folks who make their living through agriculture and by selling local products like scarves, ethnically clothes, local dry food.

“Most of the young people have moved to the city,” explained Benjamin to me. “You look at all these houses... many of them have been locked up. No one lives in them any more. But yes, they are still owned by the individual villagers but they have moved away.”

We came to a shrine in the Payineh neighbourhood of eastern Abyaneh, a small little shrine that houses the body of the son of a famous Imam. A group of young Iranian (including one Afghanistan man) called me (me? I pointed to myself. Yes, you!) in to take a group shot with them. I wondered why.


It was later that Benjamin told me that they though I was Jackie Chan, the famous actor from Hong Kong!

Jackie Chan and the Iranians and Afghanistani

“Wow, that really makes your day!” Laughed Serene.

Adrian quickly herded us to grab several shots of the old streets and buildings of the village and we were rushing back to our coach when from the corner of our eyes someone spotted a very beautiful young Iranian lady.

She had such a typical defined features of an Iranian beauty and I didn’t know what transpired but she started posing for the whole group of us with a piece of maple leaf in her hand. So good she was with her poses, we wondered and was later proven correct, if she was a model. She was indeed a part time model and was here with her family for a short holiday, hailing from Tehran. The commotion immediately deteriorated into a war zone of machine guns firing portraiture session with a lovely and willing subject. To top it off, Adrian himself joined in the fun.

“She has the typical Iranian beauty look,” said Mohammad.

Her name was Goli and she so sportingly placed herself at suitable background for us to keep shooting. We promised to email her all the photos of her.



So we spent plenty of time on this impromptu model shoot and the ladies spent plenty of time supporting the local economy by buying the headscarves which, actually were of very good quality and of such beautiful designs, patterns of which were only available specially here in Abyaneh. For 700,000 rials (S$8.50) the ladies had a swell time having their heads dressed the Abyaneh way.

“Oh my, this is a vest-dress that I will so want to wear to work,” Fann’s eyes were set on an exquisitely hand-made Abyaneh sleeveless dress and for 1,300,000 rials (S$15) it was a grab and go affair. Emily found one she liked and the old lady was happy to have a sudden surge of business for her scarves and vests.

Further down the road another stall of dried food- dried pears, dried raisins - had the whole group gathered to buy one pack each.

I heard behind me Mohammad calling out to his son Benjamin “Mosh kelinist! (No problem)” although we were already late. He knew where he could cut time later in the day to allow us a little more free play here in Abyaneh.

You see, sometimes photography trips are like this. Yes, we need to try to adhere to timing. But then again, on a photography-themed trip, especially when led by Adrian, oftentimes small little surprises will spring up here and there. And Adrian is very astute in the way he weighs the priorities. To capture the scene and get that shot, of course that’s number one to all the photographers, even if it means having to sacrifice some other destinations later in the day. If suddenly something interesting pops up, and it piques the interest of the group and it aligns with the operating principles of SgTrekker- namely, to take photos of the locals, and to support the local economy - he will allow time for that... the flexibility of a tour leader who knows exactly what his customers want. And the cooperation of the local operator in accommodating this special characteristic of a photography group as compared to a typical hurried-tour group, requires the patience of an old experienced guide who needs to know how to play with the time and perhaps play by ear with some others not so important (at least to us) parts of supporting the local economy.

That was what we were all gleefully executing, happily laughing away. The atmosphere was hearty and jovial and at that moment, in the middle of an ancient Iranian village, everyone was soaking in the unmistakably joyous mood. Based solely on these, I personally would consider this Abyaneh a successful excursion.

;

Photo: Adrian Loh

Photo: Adrian Loh

The red clay of the walls of the houses was thus coloured because of a large amount of iron in the mud with which construct their walls, embedding straws within the mud.

“Won’t this mud wall melt away when it rains?” asked David of Benjamin, as he ran his finger along the mud wall, pointing out to me where the straw pieces were sticking out.

“Well, I guess it may. But it hardly rains here. We are in the middle of the desert,” replied the young guide.

“So if it ever rains, it will melt a little but then it will dry up quickly, is that right?” assumed David.

The weather turned even colder as the mist drew right above us at the end of the village and the sky turned a shade darker.

“In Esfahan, we are in the middle of the desert,” said Mohammad the day before. “The rainfall is very low. The rainfall in Kashan is only about 120mm a year. So you can see how dry this part of Iran is.”

However, as it is oft mentioned in the Islamic world, ‘Insha’Allah’, God-willing, the weather would turn. And on this day, timed to perfection, just as we were approaching our coach at Abyaneh, it started to pour. Everyone started running towards the bus. Serene, Fann and Kong Wan came hurrying with steaming cups of tea in their hands.

“This is strange. It’s not the usual weather,” remarked Benjamin. “It hardly ever rains like this here in Abyaneh. We ARE in the desert!” a slight tone of astonishment in his voice.

The rain and wind chill made it so much colder. A warm welcome for those among us who, only the day before, was finding the weather not cold enough.


Saffron farm in the village of Natanz, in Esfahan.

I asked Adalyn: “What temperature would you estimate this to be?”

“I think it’s about 10 degrees,” replied her. I concurred.

“It says here it is 13 degrees,” announced Benjamin after he checked on his phone. Well, I was pretty sure the ‘Real-Feel’ was more like a 10 degrees.

The outdoor picnic lunch affair at the saffron farm in Natanz was a chilly one, our only source of heat was from the fireplace where they were barbecueing the chicken kabab for us. With saffron sprinkled rice we devour the meal and some of the kind ones obligated the local economy.

“Isn’t this a unique experience?!” Cried out Mohammad. I definitely could not deny that. On a Monday afternoon, in the middle of a desert somewhere in the middle of Persia, a group of us from Singapore, having an outdoor picnic of saffron rice and chicken, trembling in the cold. Yupe. Unique enough it was.

Our good driver managed to let some of us grab some more clothing from our luggage as we would be approaching colder terrain later.



On the road again...



Once again we were in the middle of the desert, passing through small villages after small villages with the internet connection occasionally dropping. It must be proudly announced that for a vast country like Iran, its mobile data service is very good. In additional to our original 3Gb data, which by Day 3, I used up almost 1.5Gb, for an additional 200,000 rial (S$2.40) I could get another 5Gb. That was great because I would have another 6.5Gb of data for the next 9 days. I believed it should be just nice.


The only thing that wasn’t working as planned was my pair of shoes. Despite the super glue last night, the right sole decided to open up completely yet again. But that was mosh kelinist (no problem). I just Simon-ed it up with the laces and it would be good to go. I was quite determine to make this pair last till the end of the trip and leave it in Iran as a farewell gift.

Esfahan



A desert city at 1600m altitude. The population is about 2 million period and the average rainfall here is 200mm per year, though slightly more than Kashan, but still considered very dry.



In Esfahan the most monumental monuments are those about 400years ago. Esfahan is originally a city with handicraft as its major industry. But now, automobile and tyre industries are still active. In additional to that, the artistic and cultural industries are very big. It’s the second biggest city in Iran, ahead of Shiraz, which is the third largest city.



It was 4pm. We were heading for the city square to visit two mosques and a palace.



Naqsh e Jahan Square


The Naqsh-e-Jahan square was built 1636, and it consisted of two mosques and a palace, and had a huge bazaar. It was replicated after Azerbaijan.



The Palace was of Six storey high and spawned an area 18,000 square metres.

The public mosque that took 27 years to complete, has a 54 metre high dome and four minarets and it is called Abbasi Great Mosque.



The other mosque, that took 17 years to complete, is a private one belonging to the royal family was built in the 17th century.

Tripod shoot

I finally had the chance to fully deploy my tripod and use it to its fullest intended purpose, after lugging it along for so many days. The obsessiveness in me surfaced with repeated adjustment and fine-tuning and re-fine-tuning of the angle, the perspective and wondering where on earth was my starburst until Kong Wan pointed out that I wasn’t even including the strong light source in my frame, how could I possibly have the starburst?


From then my juices flew and Kong Wan and I roamed the Naqsh Square shooting at horse-carriages with movement blurs, together with Woo Chung Toh, also famously known as Huawei Woo as the ambassador for his Huawei Mate 20 on a selfie stick capturing very respectable end products not much dissimilar from the bigger full frame DSLRs and Rangefinders.

“Wee How, your angle is wrong. You got to go between Lily and David Wu to set up your tripod,” instructed Adrian when I complained that my shots framed funnily. Sifu is really sifu one lah.

“Hey, let’s go shoot the fountain and the dome,” suggested Kong Wan and we both grabbed our tripod Drs cameras and walked through the square and had a swell long time letting go of our shutter cable releases at the fountain and the dome. I was quietly glad to have my inspirations and my Lingams all coming back again.

“Wah I haven’t shot like this for the longest time, man.” I laughed out loud to Kong Wan.

“Yeah, man. I have never shot like this before too, man,” was his reply.

Doing photography together with Kong Wan and David was sheer enjoyment in another dimension. It’s like good friends enjoying a different aspect of life. We spinned up the slopes cycling together, we suffered the agony doing triathlon together, we enjoyed the exhilaration of ascending in the thin airs of Mount Kinabalu and the Nepali Himalayans together, we cracked our brains over the candlesticks on the charts together... and here once again, we were standing side by side adjusting the framing of our shots on the tripods shouting out settings to each other.. it felt surreal in the middle of this square surrounded by mosques and palace, in the rapidly darkening dusk of this ancient land of Persia.

“I am so OCD,” I laughed out to Kong Wan, as I surprised myself by the number of repeated shots of the same frame just because of a slighted tilted line or an inclusion of a distracting element.

Photo: Fann

My grey beret that I wore this day must have afforded me some attraction because pretty Iranian ladies and dashing men, young and old would come up to me, and asked me where I was from and asked if I were a professional photographer. Many were surprised to hear that we were from Singapore. And some even took wefies with us. After several such similar encounters, I finally understood that this was how the Iranians are. They are genuinely friendly and curious and some of the young ladies would come up to me with halting English to try and communicate. Once that barrier was down, I let down my initial guard and became friendly with them.


Never had I encountered people with such sincere interest and with such initiative to come up and say hello, even if it was just a handshake or a verbal greeting.



Fann was shooting with Adrian’s tripod and her end products dropped my jaws and I had to pick them up from the floor.

“Fann, you have to be serious and learn from Adrian how to shoot proper conventional photos, you are on a photography trip you try your best to learn. Adrian is very good, he is very patient and will teach you one,” encouraged Serene.

Carpet Shop

6:30pm we gathered and proceeded to a carpet shop where they explained to us in details about Persian carpets.

There are two types of carpet: city carpets with designs and nomadic carpets with no designs but simply just based on imagination. The quality of the carpet depends on the number of knots per square centimeters. Natural dyes are good because they will never come out, chemical colors will be lost.

The types of knots are also important- if it’s a double knot it’s a Turkish knot, a single knot is called a Persian knot. A single knot takes double the time and is more expensive. If your finger can be poked easily into the carpet, it’s a double knot. A single knot carpet lass longer.

City carpets usually have the signature of the designer.

The carpet sellers’ professionalism shone as they went into the minutes of details on how to tell a good carpet apart from one of a inferior quality. Sadly, not many in our group were carpet connoisseurs, not even ones for the world famous Persian carpets. And the hardest working salesperson tried and tried so hard at the only one who seemed almost succumbing to a transaction, Fann, but “I’m a student. I can’t even afford the US$70 carpet that you are offering me. Do you have hankerchief instead?”

So the carpet shop went empty-stomached for the evening while we adjourn to a roof top alfresco dining - dinner of egg plants, super spicy chilli, and chicken and beef and vegetable.

Click here to go back to main content page: Discovering the Spirit of Iran