Let me get right to the meat of the issue: I am a product of an Iranian father who immigrated to the U.S. back in 1959 at 29 (with the intent of going back, but never did) and a Mid-Western American mother. I was born and raised in the United States, although I always retained my citizenship in both Iran and the U.S. And frankly, I will say that I feel more American than Iranian in most things, except one issue.
That issue happened to be that I always believed in, yes, a so-called “double standard” that after being a self-designated playboy I would certainly have the right to have a decent, virtuous, virgin-bride. PERIOD.
I am now 28. And, after 21-years of being out of Iran, I took it upon myself to renew my passport; get an exit-visa; buy a ticket; and fly to Iran. In fact, no one knew I was planning this, not even my father, whom I worked with, until a week before doing so. None of my relatives or family in Iran even knew this, except a good friend who used to live in the States, whom I corresponded with for 10 years.
A month or so before I left, I quietly started asking people’s opinions about girls in Iran. The responses were All NEGATIVE and hostile! Particularly from the, let’s say, Iranian Women’s Criticism Council.
Most of these women were shocked that 1) I– an Iranian-American — would want to go to Iran in the first-place, 2) that I was not satisfied with their ghaatipaati Iranian daughters who were worse, in my opinion, than any self-respecting American girl, and 3) that I had the guts to say what I thought, do as I pleased, and give such good counter-arguments.
Most male-relatives were just scared of the idea of going there and predicted all kinds of horrible things (I rationalized: these guys haven’t even been to Iran in 20 years themselves, so what do they know, nothing!?)
The trip to Iran was interesting to say the least. A day before, my father in a frantic attempt to catch-up on the fact that I was determined to get on the plane and go was calling all our relatives and trying to contact them. They were shocked too. On the flight, I met several Iranians who talked in amazement at how I just got on a plane, with only rudimentary Farsi and the determination to JUST DO IT.
Once the plane landed, as many of you know, you go through customs and all that. When the customs agent said something to me, looking at my U.S. and Iranian passports, he looked at me again, and again, and then in broken English said, “Welcome again to Iran”, smiling in half-cheerfulness.
Then I didn’t know who was picking me up, or what they looked like. I only had a very faint memory of an uncle and I had images of some cousins in my mind. Then, suddenly, I was swarmed by so many people who supposed I was who they thought I was, and the rest is kinda history; parties, seeing people, and seeing this magnificent country, which was like a dream for the first week!
Then came the khaastegaari girls.
This is what I had come for: In five weeks, I met about 13 girls whom I would all consider real candidates and about 10 or more girls I met on my own in parks, restaurants, businesses, and so on. Beautiful girls, chaste, nice, and dignified (yes a little too much make-up, but that’s OK); girls who tried to talk to me in English and really wanted to get to know me, and so on. In summation: I had the best time of my life. Awesome!
To my amazement though, after a few weeks, during one of these family parties, one of the khaastegaari girl’s brothers asked me if I considered myself Iranian or American. The party went silent, every one was listening intently: I said in broken-Farsi, “more American, but yet certainly Iranian too, what can I say?” Then, almost like a sigh of relief, his mother asked, “Do you feel a culture shock?” I said, honestly,”No. I feel totally at home, and would prefer to live here if I could make dollars.” They were even happier with me, after that.
After returning from Iran, I faced the Iranian Women’s Criticism Council once again. I showed them pictures of the girls I met and all that, and undoubtedly, their hostility seemed to have escalated to such an extent that I finally said to one of these liberal Iranian guys, “would you let somebody sleep with your bride the night before you get married, since virginity is not an issue for you??”
Well, since then about four friends of mine have also decided to head to Iran after 20 plus years, in search of a decent doushizeh! And they will succeed.
Let me just say that one bone of contention I have with Iranian girls here in America, is that they don’t have any idea what they are or what they want in a relationship! They are weirdos to say the least — neither moral, nor virtuous; neither chaste, nor hard working!
The youth of Iran impressed me the most with their sophistication, and their deep sense of sanity. The girls there are raised differently, but also, they are raised totally in a way that encourages self-respect, dignity, and intellectual content.
So, having said that, I pose a question to all the Iranian girls writing her — and those Western-living liberal-Iranian guys who don’t care about a girls hymen — WHAT MAKES ANY IRANIAN GIRL IN THE WEST BETTER AS A WIFE THAN A REAL WESTERNER OR A REAL IRANIAN GIRL IN IRAN?
But, I know deep down inside every guy wants an untouched piece of cake, right?