Life in a densely populated Iranian city, Ardabil
The roads in Iran, compared to the previous countries, are first class and the hills are also milder. On the other hand the heatstroke in the afternoon is unbearable. I was forced to stop daily for 3-4 hours. But I could not spend these hours with sorting my things out, or writing my diary, as the Iranian noticed me just after a couple of minutes and leave me no rest.
That was the reason I was searching for a nice and quite stay in Ardabil for two nights. On the shore of the Shourabil lake I found a small, quite hotel surrounded by a garden of roses. At the reception I was recognised from the News, so at the time I wanted to pay for my stay I was given a discount twice already. At the first night I met the young student Reza, who offered me his help for the next day.
I met Reza in front of the library, and the first place we went to was an internetcafe to upload my pictures. But due to the limited bandwidth it was not an option. Then we went to a laundry shop; I gave them all my clothes for cleaning. This was the first time in my life that I done something like this, but as I was given a discount here as well, it was no question. We just ate our lunch, when Reza’s father arrived and they offered me a ride through the city. I couldn’t say no. During the ride we just quickly picked up Reza’s mother and dropped her off at aerobic. Yes, there is something like that also in Iran. Later Reza took over the wheel from his father, as he went to play handball.By the way, the traffic rules are just crazy within the town. In the roundabouts you have priority if you are faster. I was often feared for my life and pushed the virtual pedal on my backseat. The cars parking on the side of the road never check the mirror or signalize when they change into your line. The motorbikes have no mirrors and no one is using helmets. I regularly saw 3-4 people on a motorbike. Ones I even saw an entirely family riding one bike. This kind of traffic code in not limited to Ardabil only, you can see it in every city in Iran. So, in these kind of conditions did the young, 18 year old, Reza get the wheel of the car from his father who went to play handball. I asked him since when does he own a driving licence. He responded that he doesn’t have a licence, but his father trusts him and lending him the car when he needs it. They own a Peugeot 405, which you can find in almost every second household here. In our country you cannot by this model for like 20 years now, but here, in Iran, you can still get it for 7000 USD. Another popular car is the Kia Pride, which is a tin can sedan for 5000 USD. And if someone owns a car he has to fill it up as well. In this raw-oil-rich country it works the following way: everyone who owns a car gets a voucher to buy monthly 60l of gasoline for 4000 Rial. So they get 11l of petrol for 1 EUR. The prise of the petrol is doubled without the voucher, so it is 6,5l for 1 EUR. But the locals find this prise so high that they rather use CNG or LPG, which you can find on every corner. So naturally, they did complain about the expensive fuel prices. When I mentioned, that in Europe petrol costs 1,5EUR/l, they just looked at me and I don’t think they could even understand what I was saying. This was probably similarly hard to comprehend like that my father is also called Zoltán Bujna. In lot of countries they find this hard to believe. So, this is strange. They have strange customs regarding their cars as well. On almost every newer car, which is not older than 2-3-4 years, they leave the protective cover on the seats, also the A4 format paper on the front windshield with the codes about manufacturing, and also the protective duct tapes on the doors, which were placed there for protection during transport. They told me, that this is to show that they have got a new car. For us, Europeans, this behaviour is mind-blowing.
In the evening we went to a swimming pool. Ardabil is build up with incredible speed. Everywhere I look new housing districts and new roads are built. With new homes they also build new sport centres. We went to one of these new swimming pools.
Later that night, as a thank you for the whole day of care, I invited Reza for a dinner. Another evening I was a guest at Reza's family for dinner. We had good chat and it was a special experience to play memory game with Reza's sister, Maryam. Thanks for the hospitality!