June 25, 2003
The Iranian
Part 18
30 December 2002
Going back home...
Yes, I made the phone call. It was official now. I couldn't
back down anymore. WHAT HAD I DONE? I gave up my freedom to move
back with my folks! For what? Oh yeah, to GET A LIFE!
My mom had never been more happy, the poor darling. She really
is the most caring and wonderful person I know, with a heart of
gold. But like most parents and children, we had our differences.
I was proud to be a rebelious young woman (at the age of 17).
My mom and dad tried to slow me down, but NOOO! As stubborn
and determined as she is, Awi couldn't possible listen to her
parents. She had to go her own way, she had to have her own experiences.
Well I DID and I fell flat on my face....
To tell the truth I was a real horror in my teenage years. I
had done everything that was a big NO NO in the Iranian Parents
Book of Culture. When I was a little girl I thought my parents
were weird. I remember the first time I was invited to a birthday
party
by
a Dutch classmate. I was 7 years old and had been in Holland
for almost a year. I was trying to fit in with the rest and
I remember
feeling really out of place.
When I walked inside the room, dressed
up by my mom in my yellow girly skirt and yellow girly blouse,
with a big yellow flower in my hair and my black shiny tapshoes
with yellow bows on it and seeing all of my Dutch friends
in their regular jeans and shirt. In response to my complaint
my mom said that this was our culture. I remember I didn't
give a damn about culture. I just wanted to make friends. In
the years after, my parents became more and more used to the
Dutch
way of living.
The first time I understood why my parents acted the way they
did, was the time I returned to Iran after 12 years. We went
to a birthday
part and it was as if every one was suddenly walking on a red
carpet. Everybody was acting as if they had been nominated
for an Oscar or something. The
trip cleared another issue as well: why we always pack so much
food.
I think
it's DNA-related.
I have to say honestly that I was really scared of going back
to Iran after all these years. I remember feeling out
of place again.
But that changed the minute I stepped out of the airport. It
was summer and the air was warm and dry. I remembered the scents,
strange yet familiar. The tap water was fresh and thirst-quenching.
The only thing that scared the hell out of me were the monsterly
huge bugs and roaches. The weirdest thing was that I couldn't
walk outside without being talked to by every single stranger
that passed by (matalak mindaakhtan!). I felt at home.
So one day before New Year's eve, I moved out and in again
with my parents. Just before I was moving back in, my dad
took me aside and said, "Awisa, just remember that even though
you are an adult and you've been living on your own for the
past 2 years, it doesn't mean you can do anything you want.
Remember this is still my house and
I have my rules."
I felt a rush of rebelious electricity screaming thru my
brain (bargh az saram parid!) but I held back. I needed
these
rules to get back and in touch with reality. So I just noded
and left
the room.
That evening I sat on my parents' balcony on the 13th floor,
with a cup of coffee, overlooking Amsterdam. It was amazing,
you could
almost see the whole city. It was quite and relaxed. Nothing
like my appartment downtown. Where every night was full and
crowded.
I had taken the first step and I was feeling proud of this
major decision. But the question was, what's happening next?
What
should I do with Omid? And Negin? Should I stop cold turkey
or should I decrease the time of which I'm spending behind
my computer?
I knew where to start but I didn't know how to keep on going.
Suddenly I heard my mom's voice, "Azizam, khaabet nemiyaad?"
"Na maamaan, daaram fekr mikonam."
"Beh chi?"
"Maamaan, engaari residam be yek koocheye bombast."
"Hattaa toh yek koocheye bombast, there's always a way out. Of
course it takes more time and effort. But you will come out of
it more experienced and POKHTEH TAR."
She was telling the truth. I had to spend some time thinking
about my next move and the most important thing on my to
do list was
to re-arrange my priorities.... and hey tomorrow night it
would be New Year's eve... year 2003...a new year a new
chance ... maybe...
TO BE CONTINUED
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