Friends and Family

Hello again!

Some of you have asked if I am going to be able to post any pictures while I’m here. We’re using a dial-up internet connection here in Tehran (there’s wireless and high-speed in plenty of places, including internet cafes, but I’m really only able to write and post late at night when we’re back at Nima’s aunt’s place where we’re staying and she doesn’t have internet, so dial-up it is) and our super old and slow laptop, so uploading pictures would take more time and computer power than we have right now! But we’ll see what happens!

As I think I have made clear from my earlier posts, the family here is absolutely wonderful. I’ve been trying to figure out what I can write that will be of interest, but won’t be 20 pages (or more!) long. So much has happened already that I have been having a really difficult time deciding what to share!

When we first arrived at the airport, and I met so people for the first time, I already felt welcomed and loved. That first night, when many more family members came over, those feelings continued to grow.

Just as a note, Nima’s aunt and uncle have six children (whose names all start with “M”), four girls and two boys, all of whom are now grown adults – the youngest just turned 40 years old. Most of them have spouses and multiple children of their own. Some of those children even have spouses and children too. This is not even counting Ahmad’s other siblings’ children who we’re not staying with and therefore don’t see as often. So, only counting Nima’s aunt’s extended family, the core family group is over 35 people and we’ve been seeing about 15 to 20 of them every night, sometimes as many as 30!

During all the time I have spent time with these people, even when I cannot communicate very well, I have felt like a part of the group. However, even with all of that, I wasn’t sure how to make stronger connections with specific people. It is hard to do that in any situation - and in any family - but with the added difficulty of the language barrier, I was afraid I’d never get beyond saying “hello,” “good-bye,” “thank you,” and smiling sheepishly whenever anyone said something that sounded like it could be a compliment or when I heard someone say my name (which is pronounced “Jenn-ee-fair” with the “r” sound rolled off the tongue a little). I was hoping to find a way to cross some lines and develop closer bonds with some of young women and girls who were anxious to get to know me, but weren’t sure how to approach it.

One cousin, Marzieh, is about 20 years old. She went to and graduated college in three years and now works at a youth organization. She still lives with her parents, who are very religious. She loves to sing and dance, listen to pop music, wear chic designer clothes, and has been eager to meet me for years. She was amongst the group at the airport that first night, but we didn’t really make much progress communicating at that point. The first afternoon we were here, we went to do some shopping to prepare for a huge party/dinner being planned and put on by Nima’s father and some of his nieces (sort of in my honor) so that everyone in the family – who live all over the place in the surrounding Tehran area - could be together for one special night. We went to two different bakeries and it was my first experience out and about in Tehran.

(There will be more on Tehran in future posts, but a quick note is that it is an amazing, busy city that I can’t wait to explore more!)

While in Nima’s cousin’s car, driving around to the bakeries, I was sitting next to Marzieh. I know that she loves music so, while we were sitting together in the backseat, I took out my iPod (Nima suggested that I play her some music, but I wanted to make sure she was interested first!), and just started fiddling with it and scrolling through the Artists menu. Marzieh was immediately interested. I held it out for her to look, and she took it and started to look through. She picked something randomly to listen to at first, but then I chose a song for her to hear (the new Muse album). I don’t even know if she liked the music (though I’m pretty sure she did), but what I do know is that she appreciated the gesture, and it seemed to open her up a bit. I also commented on her jeans and shoes, and how much I liked them, which I think really made her happy. After those two small overtures, she wanted to sit next to me during meals and tea and made some attempts to talk to me, even though I had such a hard time understanding her with my incredibly limited Farsi. (Incidentally, she knows some English since most Iranians study it in school, but I think she’s been too shy to try it out on me.) Over the next few days these short conversations in Farsi continued. Hand gestures, facial expressions, and a lot of pointing also go a long way.

On Saturday night, (the night after we arrived), a group of about ten of us took an evening walk in a huge park, called Park-e-Jamshid, that goes up the side of a mountain. The park itself was beautiful with incredible views of the whole city (more on this at another time as well, I hope!), but what I most enjoyed was the bonding experience I had with Marzieh and some of the other women who were also there. As we were walking, Marzieh and Maryam started singing and clapping along with music playing from their cellphones. Maliheh joined in and they sang and clapped their way to the top of one of the park’s seven tiers (each level of the park as you walk up the mountain represents a different province of Iran and has a dedicated tea house that serves food from that region). When we took a break from our little hike, we were all sort of standing around and they started to dance a little to the music they had been singing and clapping to.

(As an aside, the cell phone technology here is so beyond ours in the US that it is unbelievable! Music, videos, pictures…all on phones that aren’t iPhones or anything, just regular looking Nokia or Sony Ericsson phones…with quality far superior to anything I’ve seen back home.)

The women – all Nima’s cousins of varying generations - were trying to get me to join in but I just wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t until Nima and some of the other men walked away that they really got into it. The reason for this is that, in Islam, a woman dancing in front of a man isn’t really permitted if the man is anything but a husband, father (or grandfather, etc), brother, or uncle. Cousins, for instance, are not allowed. But the woman tends to be the one that makes the decision about who they feel comfortable dancing in front of which is why they chose to wait for Nima to walk away before dancing with me.

The three women were singing and dancing around me in a circle and trying to show me what to do. Eventually we made our way over to a sort of gazebo overlooking the lit-up, nighttime Tehran where Nima was and, even though they stopped dancing, they insisted that we dance together as if we were bride and groom and were clapping, singing, and taking pictures and video the whole time. (This was something that has been reoccurring throughout the trip so far- I’m being received very much as a new bride being welcomed to the family which, as you’ll see, has influenced some of our experiences). Everyone seemed to be letting loose a bit, they were all so happy, and I felt connected to them in a totally new way. They had let me see a side to them that does not come out when Nima’s aunt, the matriarch of the family, is around. Even though she is so sweet, generous, and warm with me, she is extremely religious and has little patience for her children or grandchildren acting in ways that she deems disrespectful. But through this Park-e-Jamshid experience, I really felt as if I’d been let in on a little secret of some sort. Marzieh’s love of dancing and music also made this experience especially important and personal to her, and it added to our growing connection.

When it was time to get ready for the big party on Sunday night, I had absolutely no idea how to wear my fancy headscarf. I had confirmation from Maryam that it was a great color, and looked wonderful with my red dress, but just didn’t know what to do with it or how to wear it so it wouldn’t look stupid and keep slipping down. Through Ahmad, it was decided that Marzieh would show me what to do. She was amazing! She showed me about six different ways I could wear it and asked me to pick which one I liked best. Honestly, as a person who does not wear hijab, I could hardly tell the difference between the options, but I picked one I liked and she put it on me. It looked beautiful and all night she was fixing it and making sure everything was in place. A lot of people at the party even complimented me on how good I looked in the scarf. Again, this little connection made a huge difference and helped me to feel as if I had broken through in some way.

At the party, I also grew a bit closer to two of Maliheh’s grandchildren, Nikki - who is 11 - and Fatimeh - who is about 13. (They’re Nima’s first cousins twice removed, are you keeping track?!) When I had first met them at dinner on the first night here, they were both very shy and didn’t really speak to me at all, even though they kept staring at me. It had been the same at the party, until I happened to run into them in the bathroom. As I was trying to pump the soap to wash my hands, the dispenser broke and Nikki held it for me and pumped more soap into my hands. Meanwhile, Fatimeh was trying to adjust my scarf and futzing with my dress. These interactions with both girls seem so minimal, but from then on they were interested in taking pictures with me and just wanted to be close.

(The party itself was unbelievable. There were over 100 people there, all members of the family. It felt like a gigantic meet-and-greet, a family reunion, and a wedding reception all rolled into one. The range of different fashion styles, based mainly on the level of religious piety, was unbelievable. Every type of Iranian seemed to be represented in some way – from the most covered up, Islamic women (like Nima’s aunt Tal’at who is basically the exact social/religious opposite from Nima’s father, which is in itself incredible) to the most sophisticated looking women wearing beautiful manteaus, high heels, and gorgeous scarves that barely covered any of their hair. The funny thing is, even the most religious women were wearing fancy clothes and flashy jewelry under their chadors, which shows that the level of coverage is a totally personal choice and that it’s not based on being “against” looking good or being “modern,” but has everything to do with personal religious beliefs and how to present yourself in public. Obviously, I’m most impressed when the boundaries are pushed to their limits, which they are, constantly, by both young and old.

Some men wore short-sleeve shirts and jeans, some wore suits with ties (which is very un-Iranian, since neckties are generally seen as indicative of a negative Western influence) and shook my hand when we met. Others were very formal and traditional. Some of the young women had the fashion sense of a classy Upper East Side society girl, while others had more of a Long Island thing going on. Some of the women shook Nima’s hand when we greeted them, while others did not. A totally mixed bag of Iranian society. Again, an entire post could be (and hopefully will be) devoted to this party, but right now I’ll continue focusing on certain connections with people so I’m not going to get into the details of the party in this post.

When the party ended, a group of people headed back to Nahid and Mehdi’s house. They are Nikki’s (and her adorable, 2 ½ year old, younger sister Noorah’s) parents and they are wonderful, warm, amazing people. They live a fabulous apartment that I kind of wish I lived in. Fatimeh and Marzieh really wanted to dance (I think some others did as well, but weren’t quite as vocal about it) so Marzieh put on some music. We tried to dance a bit, but again, because of the incredibly frustrating “rules” about dancing, and the even more frustrating super religious relatives who tagged along to make sure there were no shenanigans, we couldn’t do it because Nima and a few of other men could not be around if certain women were dancing. Nima was nice enough to corral the guys into another room so that all of the women could really get into it. As soon as they left, the whole feel of the room changed. All of the women (except one) threw off their chadors and headscarves and danced like crazy to loud, “groove” music with techno dance beats.

It was such a bonding experience that I got to participate in and which that Nima sadly will never be a part of (though we videotaped some of it to show him when we get home). It is so frustrating and infuriating that those are the “laws,” but somehow it creates an incredibly strong bond and community of women. I was, all of a sudden, part of a smaller group of women and felt like I was really an accepted part of the group and, more importantly, the family. Fatimeh was trying to teach me to dance the way Iranian women dance (I was terrible!) and Marzieh couldn’t get enough dancing time with me. Nikki danced too, but mostly just wanted to talk to me and show me things in her room. It was so incredible to see these women - whom I had seen almost exclusively in Tal’at’s home up until that point – break out a bit and show a different side of themselves and their culture. I was trying to take in every moment, but really what I took away from it all (to which my frustrations with Islamic law are second) were the bonds that I formed specifically with Fatimeh and Nikki.

When I just saw Nikki again this evening, she was so excited to see me and was eager to give me a nice big hug and kisses on each cheek as soon as I walked in the door. It really is so amazing to be able to connect and communicate with people with whom I can barely speak and I can only hope that these relationships will continue to grow over the time that I am here.

This post barely scratches the surface of everything I have experienced while I’ve been here but hopefully you get an idea about some of what has been going on. I’ll do my best to write about it all, but a lot of it will have to wait until we get back because there simply aren’t enough hours in the day!

Thanks again for reading! I loved all of the comments and emails from you all about my previous posts so please keep them coming!