SOCIETY-IRAN: Tehran’s ‘Taxicyclists’ Ride on the Edge

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Ramin Mostaghim

TEHRAN, Aug 11 2003 (IPS) - To harried public bus drivers and dusty traffic policemen here in Iranian capital’s chaotic roads, the motorcycle riders are a pesky menace, darting into the flow of vehicles and cheekily out again in clouds of blue exhaust.

To harried public bus drivers and dusty traffic policemen here in Iranian capital’s chaotic roads, the motorcycle riders are a pesky menace, darting into the flow of vehicles and cheekily out again in clouds of blue exhaust.

Many of the daredevils on two-wheelers are not however in the business of cheating death but are earning a living, albeit a risky one. Einullah Hasni is one of them, having been one half of a partnership that went bankrupt 18 months ago.

To pay off the debts the 42-year-old Hasni tried everything, including hawking second-hand goods at a stall in a Tehran flea market. Sitting astride his scooter, he said, ”Despite the lack of social welfare, no job security and the high risk of traffic accidents, running errands on this Vespa is the best job opportunity I can think of in Iran these days.”

In an attempt to clear his creditors, Hasni struck out in several directions all at once. ”I even tried to seek asylum in Germany,” he said, and explained how he came to be what in the streets of Tehran are known as ‘taxicyclists’.

”It is the last resort, not only for me but for anyone who has been sacked and is looking for another job, whether he is young or old,” said Hasni. ”Sometimes it’s carrying a passenger, or being a courier, sometimes of illicit drugs, or even bootlegging alcohol.”

The used and battered Vespa cost him 2.5 million rials (about 300 U.S. dollars) and he has a ways to go before he can clear his 300 million rial (36,300 dollar) debt, for which he pays out monthly installments.

Hasni cannot repay as much as he would like to in part because of the 30 percent cut of his takings demanded by the motorcycle agency he belongs to, and because of the 20 million rial (2,420 dollar) deposit that is locked up with the agency as security to cover the value of goods that he couriers to the neighbourhoods of north Tehran.

Heshmat Abdulli, a money changer who is part of Tehran’s thriving currencies black market, put the investment in perspective. ”You can buy a second-hand motorbike for less than 400 U.S. dollars and you can recover the amount in a month,” he said. The 40-year-old doubles as a ‘taxicyclist’ on his daily morning commute into the city centre.

Like Hasni, it was economic need that drove Ardeshshir Antiqehchi into the trade. Jobless for two years and with a family to support, he explained the option. ”It was either sell ration coupons on the black market or buy an old motorbike.” He chose the latter, which is a 10-year-old 125-cc Honda.

Now Antiqehchi waits, like the other riders, at the entrance to streets that run into Tehran’s traditional bazaar zone and other downtown zones. These are off-limits to private cars unless they carry special entry permission stickers which, at a million rials, do not come cheap.

A ride as a passenger however, is. For about a thousand rials (12 cents) one can quickly reach the centre of Tehran as a pillion rider, entrusting one’s survival to the skills of the motorcyclist as he weaves his way between vehicles.

Tehran’s nerve-wracking traffic jams have in fact forced the largest and oldest medical emergency service in Tehran to turn to motorbike-borne paramedics to save lives. ”Ambulances are too late and in case of heart attacks, they often arrive only in time to collect the body, not save a life,” said Arash Hussani, a young paramedic was has recently joined the more than 100-strong fleet.

These life-saving motorbikes add to the estimated 800,000 on the roads of the capital, and Dr Qolamreza Shiran, head of the Tehran Air Quality Control Co, which works with the city municipality, pointed out that they account for a significant chunk of the city’s three million-odd vehicles.

Naturally, vehicle workshops are thriving. ”We call it manufacture, but it’s better to say that we assemble motorcycles,” and Hamid Gharib, one of the marketing staff for a Tehran motorcycle agent. ”Most of the engines mounted on the bikes are imported from mainland China, and recently we began importing some engines from India too.”

All other accessories and parts are domestically manufactured and unofficial industry estimates put the number of workers in the country engaged in such production lines at more than 5,000 all over Iran. Last year, they are said to have turned out around 700,000 motorbikes that were sold under more than 36 brand names.

When it comes to the bootlegging of alcohol though, brand names are not what one hears mentioned by the ‘taxicyclists’ of Tehran. ”Vodka, whisky, Turkish beer, German beer,” is their whispered chant as they slowly ride by along the streets close to the U.S. embassy.

Every so often, one of them will whip out a mobile phone, say a few words and then speed off. ”That’s how clients can place an order with us and in less than an hour we can deliver what they want,” said one motorbike rider, who called himself Ebrahim.

He personally draws the line at drugs, specifically opium, which is said to be the drug of choice amongst the more well-to-do residents of north Tehran. ”Opium delivery is a different issue,” said Ebrahim. ”It’s very risky and I have three children. If caught by the police, I would be locked up for years.”

Others, like Davoud Moallemi, do not make such distinctions. Also a father of three, he said, ”The best job I can get right now is that of a courier.” Moallemi said he does not care about what he’s delivering. ”If it is illegal I charge more,” he explained, before revving his bike and dashing off.