Day 103 (Iran): rest day in Tehran (whatever that may mean)

It was visa renewal time. Or at least an attempt to do that. So, after a good night’s sleep, Ali and I set out, he drops me off very close to the place that I need to go to (Argentine Square for those in the know) and I am trying to figure out where the office of Andreas’ company is. Frau Lotfi is not there yet, but in the elevator I meet Salumeh, her co-worker who is extremely kind and set me up with tea and Iranian newspapers (in English). These are - despite the sometimes rather serious things reported on - not without humor, though it is certainly not meant to be. The spin that is being put on the news is simply amazing and at the very least it is comical to read.

Frau Lotfi arrives and all I can say is that just after meeting her I have the feeling that she is one of the kindest human beings that I have ever met in my life. She is confident that the problem will be solved and says that it will not take longer than two days. Wow. Maybe even tomorrow. The passport goes into an envelope which is driven by the company’s driver to the office where it needs to go. Wherever that may be. After a while of explaining how I have met Andreas and Isabelle and what I am doing to start with I leave and set out to explore Tehran. It is Saturday, the German embassy from which I need a letter is closed and so there is nothing that I must do today.

I wander around, slightly amazed at what the stores offer despite the economic sanctions. You can pretty much get anything you want - as long as you’re willing to pay for it. And I mean anything. Here is a selection:

After a long internet session (during which I again meet up with the Iranian [fire]wall, but am helped greatly by the internet cafe’s owner in order to get my pictures online; the conversation is conspiratorial and things are clear without much being spoken), I meet up with Ali and we head home to have a late lunch. This is 5pm, which can still be considered lunchtime here. I am trying to put some more weight on my body here, let’s see whether it works.

We have dinner some time later at the relatives of Ghazal. Mohsen is the representative of a German software company and the conversations are again extremely interesting. His perspective as an Iranian who has lived in Germany for 20 years and has now moved back some years ago is eye-opening in a lot of respects.

The food we are enjoying is superb to say the least. And again I wonder why the Iranian restaurants don’t cook the same meals instead of the usual kebabs … I will never know.