Day 119 (Iran): Tehran (the fashion police at work)

I pottered to the Turkmenistan embassy trying to see whether I was maybe a bit lucky this time and get the visa a day before I was told to come back. No such luck really. The embassy was closed. No reason given. Just come back tomorrow. I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like it … but what can you do. Banging on the door or something like this … and the chances of my visa being approved would have dropped to zero.

I had contacted another couchsurfer from Tehran and the two of us met up and had another one of those conversations that make this trip so special. Just before meeting her however, I was reminded that I was not in a free society. As I was walking along Tajrish Square in the heart of Northern Tehran, I saw the fashion police in action. This sort of funny term has a different sound here. This is serious. The setup is always the same. Two police cars, one Benz and one van (and I should point out that sometimes things are not what they seem).

Two men and two women - all of which are police. The women are of course wearing the full gear and are - at least not to me - identifiable as police personnel. They are however. And they stop every woman that they consider to be dressed inappropriately. I meant to take pictures of this, but was too chicken to do so. I should have really. It is an intimidating sight and no fun for those concerned. The first woman that I saw had to defend herself heavily in order not to be taken into the van. What happens is not quite clear. There are different warning levels, but ultimately you can be imprisoned. It was clear that the woman was wearing heavy makeup and the scarf didn’t really cover her hair much and hence she was in a difficult situation. The second time the police women were approaching a mother with her child who had no idea what was going on. I also saw no real reason for the woman to be approached, she was dressed like everyone else up here. Quite liberally, but like everyone else. She was ordered to do this and that and in the end one of the police women was tugging here and there. The little kid looked bewildered. I moved towards them and couldn’t help but sing a song in my head when I passed - along the lines of: “Keep on fighting.” It wasn’t long ago when these things didn’t happen in this part of the city. Today, the police was out in full force to enforce these rules. I saw no less than 6 such convoys around two adjacent squares.

Shortly thereafter a young man playing an instrument was picked up by the police and I wished I had taped his music before the police came. It would have been an interesting sight to see whether they would have picked him up with a foreigner being there. Doesn’t seem like it is standard procedure. Not that it would have helped the poor guy any in the long run …

The couchsurfing friend: her name is Hamraz and is quite fitting I would say given the openness with which we talked. It means person with whom you share a secret. We toured a bit around Northern Tehran and had a great time visiting, but by far the best part were the topics we covered throughout the day. Covering politics, society and everything else imaginable, I learned a great deal yet again. And had a great companion, so thank you very much. A word about the usage of Northern Tehran. To me the place is an island in a sea called Iran. I don’t claim to have any real idea about the country (and a cab driver pointed out that it would take years at any rate), but Northern Tehran is a different place. It is the upscale part of Iran, you can see the money in a great many ways. It is also an influential part, yet at the same time people here are most liberal. None of this makes a great deal of sense maybe and at some point I will try to put these thoughts together in a more coherent fashion.

We had lunch at some fancy pizza place and I couldn’t help but notice some of the descriptions on the menu. Check it out by clicking on the picture and choosing a larger size.