Last week I watched a documentary on the work of Anna Williams. In her Wellington studio Anna repairs Persian rugs. As you can imagine it is a specialist occupation. But the program was doubly interesting because I know Anna. We were at university together. I knew many of Anna’s high school friends. There was Jenny whose family owned a farm outside Raetihi. Her Dad was best known for shipping wool bales down the Wanganui River on a jet boat. I’ve been on the jet boat; sparse and powerful would be its best description. Then there was Jude. She was the daughter of a Gisborne farming family. Alison and I went to her wedding in Gisborne and enjoyed every minute. And there was Rosemary whose father was a local Gisborne doctor. I saw him three times; once for help with some bad sunburn, once to sew up my knee after a crash off my bike and once to check my health before the Hawke’s Bay Poverty Bay Open Water Championships. I ended up second in the race behind Allan Christie the New Zealand open water champion. Anna was also the daughter of an East Coast farming family. In fact the William’s family was East Coast aristocracy with a kind and caring sense of community. But more of that later.
Besides knowing the subject of the documentary the feature I enjoyed most was Anna’s trip to Iran to renew her contact with Persian rug weavers, distributors and repairers. This is how Anna described her trip.
As I neared the end of a 15-year stretch as a rug repairer, I was desperate to go back to Iran. I badly needed to stock up on yarns and tools and I wanted to find some colleagues.When I arrived in Tehran last November I stayed with Ali, who is part of a second-generation family rug export business. He has a large complex on the outskirts of Tehran, where old and new rugs are washed, then stretched and repaired.He employs about 15 repairers, all of whom sit on a concrete floor in a large shed, surrounded by dishevelled piles of rugs. At this factory there are only men, who welcomed this middle aged woman with smiles and handshakes, and gave me the first cups of tea in the best cups they could find.
I visited the Carpet Museum in Tehran and I admit I got teary-eyed as I looked at these dazzling rugs and wondered about the people who made them. I was unsure of how to get around Iran on my own, so I employed a travel agency in Shiraz. I travelled on local transport with male guides. It was a brilliant time to be in Iran because there were few tourists. I always deviated from any prescribed tour itinerary to spend time in the bazaars on my own, searching for tools, wools and cottons. Then I would bully the guide into finding the rug dealers, who had repairers on site or restorers who were working away in attic rooms in the bazaars. In Yazd my guide found another guide to take me to a desert village to see rugs being woven. There I spent time with a woman who had an enormous vertical carpet loom in her dirt-floored home. I wove two knots into her carpet of many millions of hand knots. As I was saying goodbye to two of my guides, they admitted they had learnt much about rugs from me because they had never travelled before with such a rug obsessive. Their flexibility and responsiveness to my needs meant I learnt even more about rug restoration, which has eased my professional isolation. |
For a political junkie like me I am forever hearing Donald Trump, Mike Pompeo and John Bolton describe Iran in derogatory terms. It is all about Isis, espionage, sanctions and nuclear missiles. What a relief then to watch Anna’s journey meeting good people doing wonderful work, providing the world with unique and beautifully designed rugs. Good people doing good things is not a side of Iran often heard in the west. Without saying as much Anna’s program provided much needed political balance – and I suspect she knew exactly that was the message being sent.
But there is a swimming side to this story. You see in the very early 1970s our club trained in Gisborne’s McCrae Baths. It was open-air, unheated, and old. So old that water from the estuary outside flowed into the pool through a crack in the bottom during high-tide. I know that’s true because for a summer university holiday I had the job of Pool Manager.
Our coach, Mrs Beth Meade, had accepted the task of raising money to build a new pool close to Midway Beach. It was not an easy task. Raffles brought in a few hundred dollars. Cake stands at swimming competitions earned a little bit more. Sausage sizzles on the beach every Saturday were good but were not going to see a new 50 meter pool any time soon.
Then one evening Beth got a call from Mr. Williams’ lawyer. Would Beth come to his office? Mr Williams, Beth was told, would like to make a donation to the pool building fund. I went with Beth to the lawyer’s office. We were excited at the prospect of a healthy donation. Possibly as much as a thousand dollars was our best guess.
We arrived and Mr. Williams said, “I’ve heard about your fundraising and would like to help. We were wondering if a hundred would be of assistance.”
I could tell Beth was disappointed. She covered it up well and thanked Williams for his donation. Clearly the lawyer detected her reservation and said, “I don’t think you understand what Mr Williams meant was one hundred thousand dollars.”
And that’s how the current Olympic Pool in Gisborne was built. It is a lovely facility; possibly the best indoor /outdoor pool in the country. Beside the beach it looks out across Poverty Bay towards Cape Kidnappers. I love going to swim meets in the pool Anna’s family built. I don’t know whether the Mr Williams involved was her father, grandfather, uncle or a distant relative, but whatever the connection the generosity of the family was outstanding. A quality that it seems, from the Iran documentary, Anna has carried on to today.
I know that if you have a Persian rug that needs some care and attention, Anna will give it the same care and attention her family showed to the Gisborne/Poverty Bay community. She is in Wellington: www.rugrepairs.co.nz or anna@rugrepairs.co.nz