I’m a happy man in an Iranian traditional home because everything – eating, sleeping, receiving of guests – happens not on furniture but on floors covered with nothing but Persian rugs. Empty rooms are peaceful.
The morning after our rat-or-snake-infested stay in the village of Naiband, Saeideh wanted to just drive away and not pay for the room. I said we owe ourselves the experience of complaining and seeing where it takes us.
We arrived at the home of the village chief Gholamreza Hassankhani and his wife Zahra in the new Naiband, a modern village down the mountain from the ancient Naiband village we stayed the night before.
The Hassankhanis had rented to us a room in a vacant home in the 1,000-year-old village. The rustling in the wooden ceiling kept Saeideh up all night who suspected rats or snakes.
Her anger rose again when we pulled up in front of the Hassankhani home.
The tourist wants authenticity, but not the discomforts of authenticity. So the tourist gets angry …
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