Persian Empire 1845

Chapter 440 Working (Part 1)

The wars in Afghanistan and Patagonia have once again put Iran in a difficult position with Britain. It remains to be seen whether these two countries, which have significant interests in West Asia and South America, will face another Malayan crisis.

For the people, these are the concerns of the government and Shah. They need to worry about their own lives, how to get three meals a day, whether they can add furniture to their homes, and whether they can have more children.

Jamal Abdul Faruz lives in the village of Amiyah in Mazandran. His family makes a living by acquiring ten acres of land through a land redemption policy and by working in the city. Although it's tiring, it's much better than when he and his father struggled to make ends meet while farming the land.

Previously, they not only had to pay taxes to the state, but also land rent to landlords. Now, with the adjustment of land policies, their family has acquired land, and without the exploitation of landlords, the farmers' lives have naturally improved considerably.

"Faruz, Faruz!"

Faruz, who was inquiring about this year's grain prices, heard someone call his name. Turning around, he saw it was Hafiz, the village's gossipmonger. Hafiz had traveled to many places and had connections. When places were hiring temporary workers, he would return to the village to spread the word, using his persuasive skills to convince the villagers to work in city factories. At least they could earn some money, right?
"What's wrong, Hafiz? Shouting isn't like you."

"Hehe! Isn't this good news?" Hafiz moved closer and said to him.

"There's a chance to make a lot of money, do you want it?"

"what?"

The other person said, "Tehran is desperately short-staffed lately, and the daily wage has already risen to 6 rials. Do you want to go?"

Six rials—that was pretty good for Faruz. Nearby towns only offered 1 to 2.5 rials a day. And with the off-season for farming underway, this was an opportunity he couldn't miss.

"Am I the only one?"

The other person shook their head, "Several people have already agreed, and they need to catch the train tomorrow. Do you want to..."

"Yes, of course I want to." He would never miss such an opportunity. "Can I take Ali with me?"

"Your 16-year-old son? That's good." Hafiz, the intermediary, always wanted as many people as possible, and at 16, he could already do quite a bit of work.

They agreed to meet at the village entrance and then take the train from the nearest town of Sari to Tehran. Hafiz would cover the train fare, and they could repay him once they made their money.

Back home, his wife was cleaning the house. The newly repaired roof was still a reminder of recent high expenses; most of their savings had gone to renovations and furniture. They needed to increase their income.

Faruz told everyone about it. It's normal for him to go out to work, so his family didn't have any objections. His wife, however, was worried that something might happen if they took their son with them.

"I'm fine, Mom. I can do it."

Ali showed off his physique, proving he could do anything. He'd long wanted to visit the capital, and now that the opportunity was here, he couldn't miss it.

"No problem, don't worry. When we earn money, we'll renovate the house again."

Nowadays, farmers are generally expanding and renovating their homes to improve their lives. Of course, this requires more income, and besides growing cash crops, going out to work is the choice for all farming families.

It was just past dawn when Faruz and Ali arrived at the village entrance with large bags and bundles; seven or eight other people had already arrived.

"Faruz, you're the only ones left." "Sorry, sorry, let's go then."

All their luggage was loaded onto a donkey cart. Time was of the essence; they had to reach the train station before it departed. Hafiz led the way, carrying an oil lamp to light the way for everyone. Once the sun rose, he extinguished the lamp and proceeded by the sunlight.

After two hours of travel, they finally arrived in Sari. There is a direct train to Tehran from here, and food supplies for Mazandran are transported through this railway. In addition, daily necessities and people travel along this railway.

"Here you go, this is your ticket, don't lose it."

Hafez was handing them train tickets, and Ali looked at the paper, which read "Sari-Tehran." He felt a sense of novelty.

"Stop looking, hurry up and finish installing!"

Faruz patted his son, telling him not to be too showy. He looked like he'd never seen anything like it before; it was embarrassing.

“Let him see it; after all, it’s a rare opportunity.” Hafiz patted Ali on the shoulder. “This young man is quite strong; he’s got the work to do.”

The train station was filled with people heading to Tehran to work or sell their goods. At the adjacent freight station, large quantities of grains, fruits, vegetables, cotton, and other agricultural products awaited sale. Some merchants were also checking their shipment manifests, preparing to tally the goods once the train arrived.

Woohoo! Woohoo!
The train pulled into the station. Passengers disembarked from the train carriages, while those on the platform boarded. Faruz and his companions had bought cheap third-class tickets, and after putting away their luggage, they sat down to wait for the train to depart. The other passengers, however, brought a more varied array of items. They brought live animals like chickens, ducks, and geese, filling the carriage with an indescribable odor.

But they couldn't depart yet because the goods were still being loaded. It wasn't until half an hour later that the truck was fully loaded.

The whistle sounded again, and the train slowly pulled out of the station. All the scenery rushed past – that's how passengers felt on the train.

"By the way, Hafez, why are the salaries in Tehran so high?" some people asked about the workplace.

"Hey, there's been a sudden surge in construction needs in Tehran lately. I heard they're building two six-story apartment buildings, as well as hospitals and schools, all of which require staff."

Moreover, this salary is only the local Iranian rate; keep in mind that Ottomans could be worked for just three, or even one, rials.

At this time, income inequality in the Ottoman Empire was extreme, with the upper class earning 10000 times more than the lower class. A laborer could earn a maximum of 0.5 Ottoman lira a day, a stark contrast to the wages in Iran.

"Are the Ottomans going to starve? With such meager salaries, how miserable must their lives be?"

They also felt sympathy for the Ottomans, who, compared to themselves, lived like slaves.

"After a while, I'll inquire about where else I can make money. I've heard there are ways to make money in Sumatra, but it's a long journey and it would take several years to get back."

“That’s too far, I’m not going. I’d rather go to Baku, I heard that people working there earn at least 10 riyals a day.”

The other person chuckled, "Such good fortune is never going to happen to you. I think you should just go back to working a regular job and buy some things for your family. Things are better now, we have to keep going."

This resonated with others, who were just farmers and still needed to save money to renovate their homes.

(End of this chapter)