dear life 69

dear life,
i am sending you a piece i wrote after a great night after a friend's house; the gathering was so strange, reminding me of the cultures from all around the world mixing into new forms, presenting new challenges yet new horizons of life in the 21st century.

"They say Iran is the land of paradoxes, the land of people with two lives, inside and outside the house, with family and friends and with strangers, but feeling those paradoxes up close and personal is a different experience.

Many outside the country know the country as one of the extreme Islamist ones around the world, where even foreign women are not allowed to move around without a veil, foreigners are not allowed to have alchoholic drinks, and where there exists no bars, discos, or casinos, where many tourists rethink their decision to choose it as a holiday destination despite all the cultural natural heritage scattered around.

The country is also notorious for political reasons, from being included on the US list of axis of devil to its nuclear activities to the comments by the new president about Israel.

Iran is also known by some specially in scholarly grounds as the land of the talented young who when get their foot in univiesities of the developed countries discover new horizons, blooming and help the booming of the new world. Iranian immigrants are known as one of the most respectful beneficial groups to the societies they are living in no matter where on the planet.

Many (specially some Iranian immigrants living abroad) categorize the situation of the country as black black, and the government inside describes it as white, the ground of a growing democracy based on religious godly ideologies. The situation however is not as black or white, and paradoxes are felt in each and every corner of the people’s lives.

A gathering last night in one middle-class Iranian family in Tehran, of course a not-so-typical one- reminded me of these paradoxes, not always so negative, but maybe if looked from a new perspective, representing new grounds where cultural differences are forgotten or at least overseen.

At four pm, a class of reciting poetry by Hafiz and Rumi, starts, taught by the head of the family, a zoroastrian single-mom; the students of different ages, sexes. At one corner of the hall, a christmas tree decorated beautifully is shining; the tree is set for the new Christian year, for the son is a Christian. They read Rumi, the sufi poet, and find in his teachings elements shared by all beliefs of zoroastrians, christians, Jews, and Muslims, and yet the teacher tells of an interview with the world’s religious leaders, in which all revealed that only their own followers and none other have a place in heavens and I thought of the wars and hostilities that one simple sentence can ignite.

After the class, friends gather, for one is leaving for the States; young and old from different backgrounds, from a foreign ambassador to the one serving drinks gather around as five young men sit around to play traditional Iranian music. Tar, Setar, flute, and Daf sounds mix with poems of Hafiz and Rumi being recited with the Christmas tree lights blinking in the background, creating a mystic strange mood that makes you soar the ground and feel empty, free from all. The Dafs start talking to each other, whispering first, then talking, raising their voices as if they are taking critical desicions, reaching a climax, and then calming down, as two lovers finding peace in each other’s arms.
A young friend of the host’s son, a twenty-something boy joins in to help sing one of Hafiz’s poems along with Tar and flute. His looks are those of a typical American-European boy of his age: jeans, snickers, a sweetshirt, hair styled with the latest fashion, and as I looked at him I never could have imagined him being able to recite Hafiz or play Daf. And then I remembered an article I once red in Guardian on the anniversary day of Hafiz. Noting the Iranian youmg paying tribute to the tomb of their famous poet, Hafiz, after so many centuries, the author had wondered how many English girls and boys have the same sentiments toward their world-renown author of all times, Shakespeare?

A gay combination of Kurdish folklore dance and Brazilian steps to the Daf music brings the gathering to an end, just to remind us of how beautifully cultures can mix in joy and happiness, putting behind differences. If only it was that simple in the outside world of politics, governments, ideologies, and economy.

In Iran people watch the latest hollywood movies, write blogs to become one of the largest population of blogwriters througout the world, surf the net despite all the official limitations, listen to the latest music, and wear to the latest fashion to be even more fashionable than the young abroad; and then in Iran the same people go to mosques to pray, to listen to preachings, wear black on the occasion of their religious feagure’s death anniversaries, hold ceremonies and cook special food to mark religious occasions, stop drinking on those occasions, and fast.

In Iran government believes and rules one thing, people live another. In Iran people live one thing inside their houses, live another outside in the society. In Iran people think one thing and live another. In Iran paradoxes rule, a ruling that sometimes makes people pay heavy prices and sometimes teaches them to find new voices, greater patience, and new meanings and perspectives toward life."