Iran Tourist Yarns

I met a bus ticket seller who sits in a small booth in Tehran. I first met him in 2001 and he is still there. He helped me find the right bus and always had a smile. I would stop for a chat. He would share an apple with me and a few nuts. In an effort to respond I gave him a postcard from home and offered him a banana I had bought for our farewell. He would not accept the banana saying "my house is near, but yours is far". I guess that says a lot.
John Whittaker, Australia (Dec 02)

In Tehran, even the pickpockets may be generous to tourists. Some men pushed and shoved behind as I queued at a bus station kiosk. A moment later I found my wallet - and the men - gone. I raised the alarm, but in apparent futility, not having seen the faces of the pickpockets. As I made a final search, a gruff looking man approached, talking curtly, before indicating I should follow him to a quiet corner. There he gave me another, battered wallet, holding the contents of mine and not a coin missing. He indicated I should get lost. I did, confused. Was he a thief with a conscience or a samaritan who had given the hard word to the real culprit? Either way it was a crime undone, a bizarre extension of Iranian hospitality.
Wayne Erb, New Zealand (Dec 02)

Although I intended to wait to purchase a carpet until I reached Tehran, my final city in Iran, I somehow did not resist and ended up buying one in Esfahan. From there the seller helped me send it to a hotel in Tehran where I intended to stay. After doing this, the worries began. In fact, I had not reserved the hotel and they did not expect me there at all. Moreover, it was a cheap hotel although the carpet dealer claimed all would be fine. I was really surprised and relieved when I arrived at the hotel, to find that they had received the parcel and were able to hand it over to me the next day. What was interesting was that whenever I shared my worries about getting the parcel with Iranians they felt offended, as if I suggested someone would steal my parcel. It seems that hotels are very honest.
Ivana Bezecna, Slovakia (Nov 02)

On at least three occasions we were invited home by people we met accidentally in the street or in the bazaar. They did not care that there were 16 of us. We accepted the invitation of a family in Esfahan, and spent a nice evening drinking tea, chatting about our families and dancing. We were also able to see the elegant Iranian women, otherwise covered by standard clothing when they are outside their home walls.
Davide Chiapasco, Italy (Oct 02)