THE CLIMATE OF PERSIA
Resht, Teheran, Isphahan--Dryness of atmosphere--Cellars--Roof
life--Children attacked by jackals--Chequered history of work
in Kerman.
"The climate's delicate, the air most sweet."
Shakespeare.
When speaking of the climate of Persia, Cyrus is supposed to have said,
"People perish with cold at one point, while they are suffocated
with heat at another," and this may be applied equally well to the
climate of Persia to-day, for every town has a different climate
according to its height above sea-level. When we land on Persian
soil from the Caspian we find ourselves some feet below sea-level,
consequently the climate is very damp, and vegetation is profuse. The
rainfall in Resht is so great that the wells are often overflowing,
rain falling during quite two-thirds of the year. Always having
thought of Persia as a very dry, parched land, our surprise was
very great on reaching Resht, the port on the Caspian, to see such
lovely forests of trees, and flowers in abundance, both wild and
cultivated. Primroses, anemones, periwinkles, cyclamen, and many
other kinds of flowers, all were in bloom as we drove through Resht
on our way to Isphahan. The ferns, too, were splendid, maiden-hair and
ox-tongue being especially beautiful. With all these homelike flowers
and ferns around us, we could hardly realise that we were not driving
through some dear Devonshire lane in Old England. But as we mounted,
higher and ever higher over the Elburz Mountains, we soon lost this
English type of scenery. The climate became dry and warm, till by the
time we reached Teheran we were thankful indeed for the shelter of the
comfortable quarters of our American friends, who extended to us the
most hospitable kindness during our stay in that city. The climate of
Teheran is very good; its winters are pleasantly cold, and the summer
heat is not so overpoweringly great as in other places. Then, too,
there are lovely summer gardens near at hand, whither the residents can
retire during the warm months of the year. And for those who love the
mountain heights there is the beautiful and picturesque Mount Demavend,
rising some 19,400 feet above sea-level. This mountain adds greatly
to the beauty of Teheran, both as regards its scenery and climate. It
stands as a sentinel guarding the valley in which Teheran lies, and
has an ever-changing beauty of its own, with its eternal snows catching
and reflecting all the radiant hues of the rising and setting sun. It
also forms a most valuable health resort and summer retreat for all the
heat-wearied ones of the neighbourhood. This is the highest mountain
in Persia, but there are many others from 10,000 to 13,000 feet high,
so, if necessary, a cool climate is to be found at all times of the
year. Once over the Elburz, the whole of Persia is a high plateau land,
till we descend once more to the shores of the Persian Gulf.
Isphahan has a very pleasant climate; the winters are cold and bright,
and it is possible to enjoy sitting out in the sunshine most of the
winter months. The mornings and evenings are cold, but the days are
delightful during the sunshine. The atmosphere here, as elsewhere in
Persia, is very dry, and one's skin gets very cracked and "chapped,"
not from the cold, but from the dryness of the air. This is the
cause, too, of much "nerve" trouble amongst the Europeans, especially,
perhaps, with the ladies. In the winter the natives warm themselves and
their rooms by means of a "korsi" (literally, a chair). This "korsi"
is a contrivance for giving warmth at a minimum cost. A hole is dug in
the floor of the room in which the whole family live. Into this hole
is put a clay or iron firepan full of lighted charcoal: above this,
the "korsi," a wooden frame varying in size according to the number
of the family, is placed, and over all is spread a large "lahaf" or
padded quilt. All round the "korsi" are placed soft mattresses and
cushions, and here the family pass the time eating, sleeping, talking;
the "korsi" acting as a dining-table and the "lahaf" as a covering
by day and night. This arrangement is very unhealthy, but the natives
love it, and the more friends and relations they can gather round the
"korsi" the happier they are.
The summers at Isphahan are rather warm, but there are many places near
by, which are cool, pleasant, and within easy distance for those whose
business keeps them in the vicinity of the town during the hot season.
There is always plenty of ice to be had during the summer here--perhaps
not always of the cleanest, but still good enough for the purpose
of cooling fruits and drinks. The native method of making ice is
rather clever. A "yakh khaneh" or ice-house is generally situated
outside the town or near some running water: a trench is dug some two
or three feet deep, and a wall from twenty to forty feet is built
facing north and south, thus shielding the trench from all rays of
the sun. As soon as frost sets in, an inch or two of water is let
into the trench: this freezes during the night, and the next day
more water is diverted into the hole, on top of the ice. This is
repeated several days in succession, till about a foot or more of
ice is formed. This is then broken up and stored in deep caverns or
wells for use during the summer. The process is continued as long
as the frost lasts, and thus there is generally enough to keep the
town supplied with ice during the great heat. Well-to-do Persians
have their own "yakh khanehs," and others use them for a means of
livelihood. If the supply runs short before the hot season is over,
frozen snow is brought from the mountains; but this is very expensive,
as it has to be brought such a long distance.
Yezd has a much warmer "hot season" than Isphahan, and the heat is
much more trying and of longer duration. The houses are essentially
summer houses. The winters being shorter and much less severe, little
attention is paid to the comforts necessary for cold weather, but
everything is considered which will add to the coolness and airiness
of the houses.
As a traveller approaches Yezd he cannot fail to be struck by the
number of tall "chimneys" rising from the city, and he almost fancies
he is approaching some large manufacturing town, and speculates perhaps
as to the nature of the manufactures possible in such a sandy city of
the desert. But as he draws nearer he sees there is no smoke rising
from these "chimneys," and so concludes that, after all, they are
not for manufacturing purposes. What, then, is the purpose of all
those tall, square, chimney-like buildings, appearing from the roofs
of nearly all the dwelling-places of Yezd? They are air shafts, built
with the hope of bringing a little cool air into the houses during the
hot season, when the atmosphere below is so stifling that it seems
impossible to breathe. These structures are called "bad geers," or
"wind-catchers." There was a very large one connected with the house
in which we lived in Yezd, and even on the hottest days, some air
was always to be felt coming from the "bad geer." It was so arranged
in our house that after the air had been caught and brought down by
means of the chimney, it passed over a "hoze" (tank of water), and
in this way was cooled before circulating through the house. Another
aid to bearing the heat in Yezd is the custom of spending the middle
part of the day underground in cellars.
Some of these cellars are quite palatial, the walls and floors
being made from the famous Yezd marble, which closely resembles
alabaster. One such I remember very well: it was a room about 40 feet
by 30 feet, very lofty, and lit from the top by windows on a level with
the ground above. In the centre of this room was a "hoze" (water tank),
of which the Persians are so fond, and rising from the water was a
fountain capable of playing to the height of 30 feet; a large bowl
turned upside down had been fixed on the ceiling to catch the spray
and prevent it from becoming damp. Here the inmates of the house took
their mid-day siesta, and very charmingly cool it was compared to the
upstairs world. Some cellars are not at all healthy, and, if slept in
during the day, the sleepers are very liable to contract malaria or
some other fever. When dry and well ventilated no harm seems to come
from this custom of retiring underground during the great heat of
the day, and certainly a good cellar is a great boon to a European,
and a great blessing when the thermometer registers 110 in the shade
upstairs, while in the cellar it rarely goes above 86 or 90 degrees.
Scorpions, centipedes, tarantulas, and suchlike creatures have a good
time in Yezd. The climate agrees with them, and they thrive and enjoy
life to an alarming extent. One day my husband killed three scorpions
within the hour, two of which were the poisonous black kind. Tarantulas
abounded inside the house and out. They always seemed to make a point
of running across my path during prayer times; to say the least it is
very disconcerting to see one of these creatures glide softly past you
with the evident intention of seeking shelter under your skirt! Our
cat always used to make a dart directly he saw any of these tarantulas,
just to draw our attention to them, but he would never kill one.
From life in the cellar we pass to life on the roof. This was often
the most enjoyable part of the day. It is lovely, when the heat of
the day is over, to lie and watch the stars, knowing that the same
stars were watching over our loved ones in the Homeland.
Sleeping on the roof had its disadvantages as well as its attractions
and advantages. One great disadvantage is the fact that the sun
wakes you up so early; another, the talking and singing which goes on
all round you from the adjoining roofs, often make it difficult to
sleep. In addition there is this very serious drawback, that often
the jackals visit the roofs of the houses at night, seeking for
something wherewith to appease their hunger, and if they cannot find
anything else to satisfy them will attack sleeping children. On several
occasions poor little mites have been brought to the hospital terribly
mutilated and torn by the jackals, some just slightly bitten on the
face, others so mauled and eaten as to be quite unrecognisable. One
especially sad case I remember; the poor mother was wild with grief,
for her child, a baby of only a few weeks old, had been almost eaten
up by these abominable creatures.
Life on the roof begins soon after sunset. It is very interesting to
watch, from a height, roof-life springing into existence. First one
and then another will bring out the family bedding, spread it on the
floor of the roof or on low wooden benches, and then sit and chat
till dinner-time. Very often the evening meal is eaten on the roof,
and shortly after the family retires to rest. A Moslem takes great
pains to have his roof well shielded from the gaze of onlookers, and
if he is at all suspicious that he is overlooked he will immediately
raise his wall. This being the case, the roofs in a Moslem quarter
are generally very much shut in by high walls, which keep out the
air and make the nights much less bearable.
The climate of Kerman is almost perfect for those who can stand
it. Situated about 6500 feet above the sea, surrounded on all sides
by mountains and deserts, the result is a delightful bracing air
and invigorating climate. In Kerman there is no need of resting in
cellars by day or sleeping on roofs by night. Indeed the climate would
be hard to beat anywhere. The winters are charming, bright and cold,
with snow-covered mountains always in view. For a month or two in the
summer it becomes fairly hot, when flies and mosquitoes nearly drive
one wild, but it is generally possible to get away for a little time,
and during the remainder of the year the climate is all that could be
desired. And yet it seems strange that in spite of all this Europeans
have found it difficult to live there.
Our mission in its infancy had a very chequered career, owing to the
breaking down in health of its missionaries. The first to open the
work there was a Mr. Carless, a clergyman of the Church of England. He
went there a young man in the vigour of youth, and at the end of three
years, having gained the love and admiration of Moslem and Parsee
alike, he was laid in a solitary grave away in the desert, in a valley
surrounded by hills. After a short time his work was taken up by a
Mr. and Mrs. Blackett, but the latter was able to remain only a few
short months, at the end of which time she returned to England, broken
down and shattered in health. Then my husband was appointed to open
Medical Mission work there. Unfortunately, before the year was out,
we too had to leave, this time on account of my health. During our
stay there an English engineer came to seek for artesian wells. After
two or three months he contracted fever and died at our house, and he
too is resting in that quiet spot amongst the mountains by the side of
Mr. Carless. On our leaving, another doctor was appointed to take my
husband's post, but his stay in Kerman was not even as long as ours had
been. And so it seemed as if the work there could not be carried on,
but fortunately this chapter of accidents has now come to an end,
for our missionaries have been living and working there for some
three or four years. All agree, too, in saying that the climate is
a very healthy one, provided the people living there have sound hearts!