There is a sometimes confronting culture in Iran that is expressed as taarof, which literally means as my guest. It covers everything from stepping back to allow somebody else to enter before you, to the repeated refutation of payment - even when you are buying mundane things in a shop. It means that often the simple act of purchasing something involves a cup of tea, and then three or four refusals by the vendor to accept your money, before they finally relent and begrudgingly take payment.
I was, as usual, dining alone in a fantastic self serve falafel restaurant run by some Iraqi emigres in Yazd, (One of the Arabian inventions that modern Iranians have embraced) when two young guys in their teens came and sat next to me - one a few years older than the other. The usual conversation started about where I was from, whether I liked Iran and so on. The younger looking one spoke fairly good English and explained that they were friends and were visiting from out of town. Suddenly the older one jumped and dashed off up to the counter and started to rather frantically put together another falafel. He then wrapped it in paper and brought it over and placed it on the tray in front of me. My attempts to refuse it (I had already demolished one falafel, and had ordered a samosa) were repeatedly rebuffed, and when I finally accepted, he stood up and dashed off to get a drink. We continued conversing and when they finished they requested a few photos, said thanks, paid and disappeared in to the night. When I finally finished all the food in front of me and rustled up the energy to walk home, I went to pay. The cashier explained in his broken English that the young guys had paid no only for the falafel they made me, plus everything else I had ordered.
As I walked slowly back to my hotel I got to wondering about whether any teenager had ever shouted a foreigner in Australia, and I just couldn't imagine it happening. The two young guys didn't look very well off, and the food didn't cost that much, but the simple gesture encapsulates the way so many Iranians relate to foreigners.
I was, as usual, dining alone in a fantastic self serve falafel restaurant run by some Iraqi emigres in Yazd, (One of the Arabian inventions that modern Iranians have embraced) when two young guys in their teens came and sat next to me - one a few years older than the other. The usual conversation started about where I was from, whether I liked Iran and so on. The younger looking one spoke fairly good English and explained that they were friends and were visiting from out of town. Suddenly the older one jumped and dashed off up to the counter and started to rather frantically put together another falafel. He then wrapped it in paper and brought it over and placed it on the tray in front of me. My attempts to refuse it (I had already demolished one falafel, and had ordered a samosa) were repeatedly rebuffed, and when I finally accepted, he stood up and dashed off to get a drink. We continued conversing and when they finished they requested a few photos, said thanks, paid and disappeared in to the night. When I finally finished all the food in front of me and rustled up the energy to walk home, I went to pay. The cashier explained in his broken English that the young guys had paid no only for the falafel they made me, plus everything else I had ordered.
As I walked slowly back to my hotel I got to wondering about whether any teenager had ever shouted a foreigner in Australia, and I just couldn't imagine it happening. The two young guys didn't look very well off, and the food didn't cost that much, but the simple gesture encapsulates the way so many Iranians relate to foreigners.
No comments:
Post a Comment