Iran's Caspian Sea

Heron and egret in Anzali's lagoon

Tea is a staple of the Iranian economy and diet.  Since alcohol is not permitted in Iran, tea is the customary beverage to share with friends, family and guests.  We are offered tea wherever we go. 

mountain of tea waiting to be bagged

Our driver stops periodically to offer us tea or, his preference, very strong Turkish coffee, which he brews in a tiny pot over an equally tiny gas burner inside the car as we pause on the side of the road.

We visited a tea factory this morning on our way to Anzali, Iran’s largest Caspian Sea port.  The harvest is over right how, but mountains of tea remain to be shipped to Iranian and world, mostly Indian, markets.  The manager enthusiastically guided us around the plant, explaining the tea-making process. 

having tea at the tea factory

He was so excited to have 2 Americans visiting that he called the owner, who lived in Florida for many years and is now living in Iran again.  The owner offered to come meet us, but we had to be on our way.  So, the manager invited us to have tea with him.  He ran over to his battered pickup, opened the tailgate, ordered tea through a window in one of the buildings, and served us tea from the back of the pickup.

When the tea first comes to the factory, farmers unload it on a large platform, weigh it, and receive payment.  The fresh leaves move to ovens that heat them to remove some of the moisture (20 minutes) and then to a machine that crushes them lightly before dumping them into wheelbarrows to be taken to a second room where they are spread out over the floor, 10 centimeters deep, to oxygenate for 2 hours and 45 minutes.  From there, they go to a series of rotating racks in drying ovens for another 20 minutes before being moved to a huge room upstairs where they are spread, via conveyor belt, over burlap  placed across large mesh-covered bins.  For the next 12 to 16 hours, hot air blows underneath the burlap in the 4 foot deep bins while workers constantly rake the tea leaves in order to dry them evenly.

tea fields and Agorz Mountains

Next the leaves go to sorters which both remove any remaining stems and debris and, through sieves, sort the leaves by size.  Finally, the tea is dumped in huge mounds onto the floor (not excessively clean) and shoveled into large bags for shipment.  Big piles of tea dust and debris remain beneath the sorting machines.  This is eventually returned to the fields as fertilizer.  About 25% of the volume of the fresh leaves eventually becomes tea.

The machinery is very old.  I’m sure the sanctions have made it difficult to replace the equipment.  But it also seems to be adequate to the job, though it could use a thorough scrubbing. 

The city of Rascht, with 1.2 million people, is the capital of Guilan Province and has a busy central bazaar.  We strolled through the produce, fish and meat stalls.  Once again, the merchants were so kind.  They offered us tea, bites of cheese, tastes of radishes and questions about the US and Trump.  They liken Trump to their former president, Ahmadinejad, who they think was crazy and a terrible president.

making pastries in  Rascht bazaar

posing with beautiful women in Rascht

The city of Bandar Anzali spreads along the Caspian Sea.  It’s primary economic driver is its port.  Along the water, not far from the cranes, are some large villas, but there are many more small bungalows and dingy apartment buildings.  The town looks like it has had boom and bust cycles to match Iran’s economic roller coaster.  Over the years, salt water from the Sea has inundated the coastal farmlands.  Now, there is a large swamp that is brackish, where once fields and farmhouses stood.  Cattails and muck like quicksand have replaced the farms, but the marsh is nirvana for birds and, I’m sure, many small animals. 

swamp just before sunset

Shortly before sunset, we took a speedboat through some of the channels, lined by tall marsh grasses, to a lagoon.  Herons and egrets flew off as we approached, and the sky filled with seagulls looking for a free lunch. 

There is a Christian cemetery in Anzali.  It has a section for Armenian Orthodox graves (there is still a very small community of Armenians in Anzali) and another for the sad remnants of a small and desperate Polish migration to Iran in 1941.  Some of the Poles were fleeing the Nazis, some had escaped from Nazi POW camps, others had fled Soviet gulags.  They ended up in Anzali starving and sick, so most of them died.  There are 639 graves from 1942.  We visited at dusk and, at the behest of the caretaker, carried a candle to leave at the monument to the dead Poles.

Armenian Orthodox church at Polish and Armenian cemetery, Anzali

Tomorrow, we will move inland again, driving along the border with Azerbaijan before we reach Ardabil, an Azerbaijani town not far from the border.